Even though I am still working on recovering from my parasite issues, I had a little confidence boost after I finished NAR. I haven't run a race all year because of those issues, so on a whim, I signed up for the Table Rock 50 miler two weeks before the race. I decided that since I was pretty busy with work and coaching, I would just wing this run. In other words, I set aside my obsessive compulsive behavior and limited my preparation to throwing a bunch of stuff in my pack and quickly reading through the website. I gathered that it was a brand new out and back course with a lot of technical single track and climb, which was fine by me. I paid no attention to cutoffs, aid station distances, course descriptions and figured it would all work out in the end.
Tony and I drove up the night before and stayed in Morganton. At 4:45 am, I remembered why I don't really like organized races. They start so darned early! Hellgate and Grindstone have start times much more to my liking. Anyway, I wrote down the address of the start, plugged it into the GPS, which then guided us three miles past the start. There was supposed to a sign at the entrance, but a small sign on the opposite side of the road in the dark was easily missed. In fact, we missed it again when we turned around and I got to the start 5 minutes before the race began. (If I had been in my OCD mode, I would have had a meltdown.) Now to be fair, there was a gigantic billboard pointing the way to the campground, but since I did a quick read through of the directions, I wasn't really sure if that was the right place or not.
I got my bib on, dropped my drop bag and went to the start, where a small group of people were gathered. After a few words about the pink and black flagging we were supposed to see every 3-5 minutes, the RDs sent us off in the dark. Wayne and I decided to start off together and see how it went.
The course leaves the campground, runs through an open field and then heads onto single track in the woods. (Let me insert a pet peeve here. Please do not wear a flashing red light on the back of your headlamp or hat. While that is an excellent idea if you are by yourself, it just annoys all the people running behind you in an ultra.) Everyone was in a tight pack, moving along, when all of a sudden people began shouting and turning around. Was there a bear? Was someone hurt? No, we had right off the bat missed a turn. We all backtracked, found the right trail and restarted.
The first half mile or so was muddy, eroded uphill single track which emptied out into a field. After crossing the field, you followed rolling double track, with some tall grass for three or so miles to the first road crossing. After that crossing, you ran on technical rocky single track to the first stream crossing, which was blocked by two gigantic logs. We clambered over the slippery logs into the creek (a foot deep or so), back onto single track to the first aid station.
The aid station workers weren't quite sure how far it was to the next one, but no matter. I got two bottles of water and had plenty of calories in my pack, so I would just get to be aid station when I got there. The route was on gravel road, first sharply downhill, then gradually up to the next road crossing. Somewhere in the middle of this section, we took a slight detour down the wrong path, but figured it out pretty quickly.
The gravel road ends at a busy paved road, which you follow for a quarter mile or so before getting on another gravel road. This road went sharply downhill before crossing a bridge, turning right and becoming level and then up again to the next aid attain. Wayne and I were alternating walking and running and were making good progress but then saw a group quickly catching up with us. I told Wayne they must have gotten off course, because they were moving much much faster than the people in my part of the pack normally move. Sure enough, they had missed the turn off the road and got three or so bonus miles in.
At the next aid station, I was the third female to come through which would have made me feel good, except I knew that people had missed turn and would be coming up behind us. Anyway, Wayne and I continued our walk/run up the mountain, feeling good. The road section eventually ends and you are back on rocky, technical single track and we moved well through that, until we got to the river crossing. They call it a creek, but it was wide and fast moving and I don't have much confidence in my balance since the knee surgery. I carefully picked my way across, which gave Wayne plenty of time to cool off in the water while he waited. Back onto single track again, which started a relentlessly steep uphill climb, finally coming to a gravel road and the next aid station. It was high up and pretty chilly, but the aid station worker assured us we would be dropping down into the woods where it would be warmer. These were words we did not want to hear. We knew we had to get to the top of Table Rock to the turnaround, so downhill meant even more uphill. Not having paid too much attention to the course description, we assumed that the next aid station would be near the top of Table Rock.
We dropped down on double track, crossed a creek three times and then started down switchbacks to a gorge. The trail became really technical and slow, but the waterfalls in the gorge were beautiful. Finally we started back up. Really, really steeply up. After we hit the top, we came upon an aid station, where we became really confused since we were not at the top of Table Rock. Here we learned that the course was actually 54 miles and we still had a ways to go to the halfway point. Four miles doesn't normally seem like a big deal, but when you are slowly crawling uphill, that's another hour added on. We grabbed some food and ran off feeling pretty down, thinking we were almost there when in fact we weren't. We started seeing retuning runners, mainly 50k runners. Eventually we came out on a gravel road briefly and then started another long extremely steep climb which thankfully ended on Table Rock. The views there were outstanding, but the fact that we were at 7 1/2 hours on a course with a 15 hour cutoff made for a quick look. And we still had to make a side trip to the aid station to get to our drop bags.
On the way back, we were moving strong and passed some people. However, when we came back to the aid station where it was so cold, we had missed the aid station cutoff. Our options were to wait there until we got picked up or wait until the sweep caught us. We kept going, but I have never been caught by a sweep and I while I might get pulled at the next aid station, I was NOT going to be caught by a sweep. (I envisioned a deep woods version of tag or hide and seek.) Again, we moved really well, passed a couple more people and hammered the downhill on the gravel road. They didn't pull us at that aid station, nor at the next one. We finished in 15:30 and the RDs did count us as finishers.I got a great hoodie and 1st place award in my age group (because the top three women overall had been in my age group).
My overall impression of the race was good. The RDs and volunteers were very helpful, the swag was the best I've had in a long time and I loved the course. It was hard, technical and the creek crossings guaranteed wet feet the whole time. But it was very pretty and had some gravel road thrown in for a bit of a break. The aid station food was good and I wasn't left wanting anything.
The last half of the race was not as enjoyable because I was frustrated with the cutoffs and running from sweeps. The only cutoff I have missed in 11 years has been at mile 42 at Hellgate
(twice, due to snow and ice). But at Hellgate, I knew I was moving
slow. Here I was moving well and felt really good. I hope they will adjust the cutoffs a little or this will be a race for fast runners. I didn't have trouble with the course markings, except at one place, but others did, so I am sure those tricky spots will be addressed. One other thing I really needed was crew directions to the one place crew access was allowed. Maybe they were somewhere on the website and I am sure that if I had asked, someone would have given me them, but it would have been nice to have a printout stuck in my packet.
Speaking of packets, thank-you RDs for sticking my shirt (which is now my favorite running shirt) inside the packet. I cannot tell you how many times I have showed up to a race for which I had preregistered and they have run out of my size or out of shirts totally. And thank-you for the women's cut. I like shirts I can actually wear!
Final thoughts. I will be back next year, even if they do not adjust the cutoffs. I would come back next month if they wanted to put it on again.
Photos are from the Table Rock Ultras Facebook page.
I was going to start out this post with a long dissertation about how 2014 has sucked for me, running-wise, between injuries and parasites, but I since I finally get to write a post about running, rather than NOT running, that's where I am headed with this.
In the middle of all of my parasite/running drama this summer, several WNC runners came to run the loop that Alan, Brian and I had set out to run at midnight one December. (I had concocted a "challenging" 100K in my backyard, consisting of what would become known as the Nantahala Adventure Run, plus an additional 6 miles to make sure it was 100K. In this version, had we finished, we would have finished with the long, steep climb from the Nantahala Outdoor Center up to Tellico. We instead stopped at the base of Cheoah in a cold drizzle, not having much fun at all.) Anyway, here in the summer of 2014, I was not yet able to join in on the run, but crewed instead up at Tellico. Some of the runners opted out midway through in the July heat and humidity and two of those runners, Mohammad and Wayne agreed to come run a do-over with me when I was ready.
We set a date in September and as it grew closer I continued to have the same doubts I have had for the last year or so. I am not ready. I have only been training for six weeks. I am not completely well. This is over double my longest long run. I haven't run this far since November 2013. My knee hurts a lot. I have DNS'ed three races. There's no way I can do this. I don't think I can do ultras anymore. And on and on.
While I was busy tearing myself down, I was trying to find an elevation profile of the loop online to figure out the easiest direction and starting point. I clicked on a link and it was the article about the Bartram Trail in Blue Ridge Outdoors, which mentioned me as the first person to through-run the Bartram. I thought, you know, I shouldn't have been able to accomplish that, either. I had been sick for a couple of weeks, was still sick when I started and ended up hobbling the last 18 miles injured. But I did it. After thinking on that for a bit, I decided that my goal really had nothing to do with running around this 58 mile loop. I wanted to be the same runner I used to be, who didn't overthink things and just went out and ran. Who didn't have a training plan or count miles. Who liked to do the hard things, simply because they were hard, rather than being afraid I couldn't do them.
And so at 5:12 a.m., Wayne and I (and the yodeling pickle) set out from Appletree Campground, with Mohammed following about an hour later. The trail was overgrown and my legs soon looked like I had run the Barkley from all the blackberry cuts on them. The yodeling pickle provided comic relief whenever I ducked under a blowdown and my packed brushed up against the tree, setting him off. It was foggy and humid and by the time we started up Cheoah my energy was draining. Mohammed caught us near the top and we we shared a mile or so before parting ways, providing a nice distraction. On the way down, I was still dragging but Wayne kept waiting for me and then Sarah showed up, keeping us company and mentally occupied. Once at the NOC, she helped us get a hamburger and although I spent more time there than I intended, it turned everything around. Thank-you, Sarah!
I felt great heading up Tellico, where Tony was waiting, which of course cheered me up even more. Wayne was having some overheating issues, but a little time at a creek turned him around too. The climb out of Tellico felt okay and was not much slower than I usually climb it, even though it was about 30 miles into the run. The only downside was the song Drunk on a Plane continued to play in my head. I wasn't feeling bad, but is wasn't exactly Mardi Gras in the clouds at that point either.
We hit Burningtown Gap right before dark and at the overlook just beyond it, stood for a bit watching a huge bank of clouds with bolts of lightening flashing through it . It was one of the prettiest storms I have seen. Of course, I had dropped my rainjacket with Tony, because the Weather Channel assured us there was zero percent chance of rain.
It was pitch black when we hit Wayah, where we were treated to a beautiful view of the lights of Franklin below and the stars and the Milky Way above. We started painfully downhill to the lake ( I fell three or four times because it was so steep and I was no longer moving my feet as fast as I should have been). We finally hit the lake and shuffled on towards Appletree, alternating walking and running. 20 hours 59 minutes and 15 seconds after we started, we arrived back at our cars. Mohammed had finished under 18 hours and the three of us joined the short list of runners to through run the NAR.
My knee didn't hurt. I was still running at the end. I was slow, but I did it. And other than the trip up and over Cheoah, I actually felt okay. I wasn't trained and it doubled my longest run all year, but I did it. And I am already thinking about going back and doing it better.
This post is a bit of a deviation from normal running posts, but today Louie Zamperini, Olympic distance runner turned WWII POW passed away at the age of 97. A few years ago, I read Laura Hillenbrand's book, Unbroken, which traces Louie's inspiring story, a true testament to the human ability to endure most anything. Louis survives a plane crash, sharks and strafings and 47 days in a raft, only to end up being captured by the Japanese. Things only keep getting worse for Louie, but somehow he perseveres and survives.
Shortly after I read the book, generous local veterans donated a class set of the book for my Military History students. We spend twenty minutes or so a day reading the book and his story never gets old. My students love the book and as a teacher, I love to hear them ask if they can read more. For some of them, this is the first book they have actually wanted to read and during the semester, Louie becomes part of our class.
After a test this year, I gave my students an impromptu extra credit assignment, to write a letter to Louie. I happened to have kept the letters, so I wanted to share a few excerpts today in memory of Mr. Zamperini. Excuse the grammar and organization as they were written spur of the moment with no opportunity to make corrections. (And if you are reading this blog, you are probably a runner. If you haven't read Unbroken, it's a great book and the author spends the first part talking about how running saved Louie, which many of us can relate to. It also puts all our self-inflicted suffering in perspective and makes giving up a bit harder, too.) Here are the excerpts:
Dear Louie Zamperini,
I was wanting to
write you and let you know how incredibly stunning your story is...You
are really an amazing person and I will always remember this story and
keep to myself that the human mind is almost impossible to break and the
resilience that you have shown will forever signify the true meaning of
perseverance. Your strengths will inﬂuence a nation. As we stand
united, you have shown us that that no matter who you are are where
you're from, you can remain Unbroken.
Dear Louis Zamperini,
After reading the book about your life, I've realized the strength and endurance the human body can withstand. I have so much respect for you and your family. You have taught me a lot about what it means to keep faith and never give up. I am currently enlisted in the US Marine Corps and I plan on serving my country in whatever way I am needed. I know I will probably never have to go through the experiences that you did, but if anything ever goes bad, I will remember you and your story. You
were stronger than I could ever be and you are a great role model.
Your heroism and leadership has been a great inﬂuence on me and I hope I could have been half as brave as you were in that situation. You put others before yourself, risking your life in the process. You deﬁed the Japanese rules and guards, proving to everyone that it could be done. You endured beatings that were so severe that I really can't even begin to understand. Through it all, you kept your dignity and faith. You never stopped believing that you could make it through the war, which is more than many others could say. There are plenty of other stories of delinquent children overcoming the odds and doing great things, but your story has had the greatest impact on my life. I think everyone needs to hear your story.
You are a great hero, Mr. Zamperini. I will carry what you have taught me throughout my life and be the best that I can be. I hope your story has inﬂuenced others in the same way it has me. Thank you for your service to our country and for sharing your story.
I've read your book with one of my classes at school and I can honestly say it's the most inspiring story of perseverance and hope I've honestly ever read. You were pushed well beyond the breaking
point but somehow your inner resilience was unleashed and your hatred for The Bird pushed you to survive and provide hope for all of the POWs around you. I never knew how terrible the conditions were in foreign POW camps until I read this story. I knew things would be unpleasant but this was far worse than unpleasant, it was some of the most unimaginable things to put a human through yet you rose above all the challenges. Your story has inspired so many and shows us how far mental strength can get you in bad situations...
We just ﬁnished reading your biography "Unbroken" in my history class and it has got to be one of the most eye-opening books I have ever read. From start to ﬁnish there was not a second I wanted to
stop reading it... Reading this book made our class feel like we sort of know you in a way. I could not come close to imagining how hard it was to go through what you did...
After everything you had been through and dealt with, you turned to God and found a way to forgive them and I believe not many people would be able to do a thing like that. Your story has made me realize that there is always someone who has it worse than you so don't take what you have for granted and cherish every moment you have with friends and family, you never know when you will see them again. I just want to thank you for having the courage to share your story with the world, thank you Louie.
Dear Louis Zamperini,
Your story is incredible. The determination, ﬁght, and calmness that you showed during your diﬃcult times in World War Two is truly inspiring. I always knew that POW camps were rough, but is never realized how horriﬁc it actually was. Hearing about the atrocities that you and your comrades had to endure has given me a new level of respect and gratiﬁcation for veterans and current members of the armed services. It even hits home even more because most soldiers were not much older than I currently am. I connected more with your story because I am also a runner... (At) the Berlin Olympic race where you were falling behind, but still had a huge kick really showed how giving up is not in your personality and that you had perseverance. Just from seeing a few of your personality traits that were portrayed in the book, make me believe that you were built to make it through the war alive and that you weren't going to let the enemy "beat" you, just like you didn't let competitors beat you in competitions. Once again, I am truly grateful for what you and your comrades went through and I can only hope that no one will have to see what you saw or go through what you went through again. Also, they way that God spoke to you and caused you to change your life is very inspiring. Thank you for your service to our Country. If it wasn't for you and other members of the armed services, I would not be where I am today. To me, all members of the armed services are heroes.
As Wayne and I were headed towards Tellico Gap during the Nantahala Adventure Run, he told me a story about almost passing out while running one day. It turned out that he had not eaten for 24 hours and opted to go for a run before he did so. In retrospect, of course, that was a bad decision, but at the time he didn't think too much about it.
I had a couple of those moments in April and as Willy Natureboy says, bad decisions make for good stories. I'm not sure how good of a story this is, but it is a cautionary tale....
There's a forest road near my house that I run fairly often. I've only seen four people on this road in years, two hunters and a couple out for a walk. One day after school, I headed there to run, but was surprised by a man coming down the hill as I was getting out of my car. Not only was this person number five, but he was a runner, too. So, we talked for a couple of minutes (he is a deputy that lives nearby) and then I headed up the hill. I was distracted by the conversation and didn't realize until a few hundred yards up the hill that I had forgotten to take my earrings out. Not just any earrings, but ones with blue diamonds in them that Tony had given me.
In retrospect, I should have turned around and headed back to the car and put them in a safe place. But I was wearing a little waist belt that I stick my phone and keys in, so I stuck them in there. It zips up securely and I didn't think about them again until the next morning, when I took my phone out of the belt and an earring fell out. An, as in one, earring.
I searched the house, car, driveway, gym bag, every place I thought it could be. Then I remembered that I had taken pictures at three places during my run, which meant I had opened that waist belt three times. After school, I went back to the road and searched there. Nothing. I dragged Tony there with a metal detector the next evening. Nothing. I ran there a couple more times and again, nothing. This is a fairly big earring that would be hard to miss, especially in the sunlight and I finally assumed that someone saw it and took it home. I spent a long time kicking myself for being stupid.
Tony, being Tony, went and got me a similar pair and we planned to make necklace out of the lone earring. Then two or three weeks later, I was running on the road again and my shoelace came untied. I crouched down to tie it, and there was my earring, in the gravel and intact.
Now I have two pairs of nice blue diamond earrings and a secure case to put them in when I take them off to go run. Lesson learned. Unfortunately, the weekend before, I had unknowingly made another bad, bad decision.
April is thru-hiker season here on the Appalachain Trail. I go all winter, rarely seeing anyone, to suddenly seeing dozens of people on a short run. The hikers hit the 100 mile mark here and many are still unversed in wilderness etiquette and procedures. Which brings me to my bad decision.
I decided to run a 20 mile loop, a majority of which was on the AT. On a long run, where there are several water sources, I carry a handheld bottle instead of a bladder, scoop water as I go and treat it with a Steripen, which uses UV light to zap any bad critters that might be in it.
Several months prior, I had dropped my Steripen, but it appeared to be working fine. The flashing light that indicates the steripen is making proper contact with the water was working, along with the green indicator light that tells me the water has been zapped for the appropriate 45 seconds. I use gray bottles and never thought to look down inside the bottle to see if the most important light,the UV light was actually working.
All winter went by without incident. Then the weekend of the 20 mile loop, I scooped water from couple of places right next to the trail. In retrospect, of course they were not the best options. Somewhere along the way, I, for some reason, thought to look to see if the UV light was working. It was not. I was not too concerned because I know a lot of people do not treat their water and I realized I has been drinking untreated water for several months. But it was now thru-hiker season, when you smell all sorts of bad smells along the trail and find toilet paper in all sorts of places.
Warning: TMI coming, but I wanted to write this down, because my symptoms were a little different than most of the internet info. You'll be safe if you skip the next paragraph.
So, a couple weekends later, I had stomach/bathroom issues. A couple nights later, I was awakened by an urgent need to, umm, use the restroom. That never happens. Then I was nauseous. I lost my appetitie and could not eat anything but crackers and toast. I alternated between not going at all for days to explosive incidents. I sat in the recliner and stared into space. I could not focus enough to read or watch T.V. I felt fuzzy-headed and dizzy. I did not throw up. The doctor and I assumed it was the stomach flu, but I have never had the stomach flu. A couple weeks went by. I missed a lot of work. I would feel a bit better and head back to work, only to have to leave early. One morning, I was on my way out the door when I had to make a run for the bathroom. I was shaky and weak and as a teacher, I had to find a sub and come up with a lesson plan in a half hour. I cried for awhile, then our secretary helped me find a sub and I came up with a lesson plan. They ran tests, blood tests and a regular stool test. Low blood sugar, nothing in the stool. By this point, over three weeks had gone by. I lost eight pounds sitting in the recliner. I was apparently very pale because people kept remarking on that. I spent a lot of time being angry that I could not do the things I wanted to do and not understanding what was wrong. The fourth week, the doctor and I discussed the possibility of giardia. First she gave me a round of antibiotics in case it was animal e coli. That didn't work. The stool test for giardia came back negative, but apparently they only pass every so often, so you usually have to do multiple tests. Instead of that, she just went ahead and gave me the antibiotic from hell, flagyll.
I could not tell if the flagyll was working, because it gives you the exact same side-effects as the symptoms of giardia. Only I felt worse. Finally, when I was finished with it, after five weeks of hanging with Little G and eight days of antibiotics, I began to feel better. I had some energy and was hungry. Then I had a bad couple days. Then several good ones. Then a bad one. According to Dr. Google, it can take a few months for the intestines to heal, especially since I went so long before we figured it out. Also, that doc says a lot of people become lactose intolerant for a while, and I think that has given me a couple bad days before I realized it.
So, eight weeks later, I feel more normal; I just get tired quicker. I still have some nausea and days when I just feel "off." I am running, but not very far yet. Today a group was running the Nantahala Adventure Run, which I was supposed to do, but instead I provided some aid and hiked/ran out four miles to see people as they came through. My plan was to head all the way to the NOC and back, but my body thought differently. I enjoyed hanging out on a rock in a quiet place in the sunshine and although I wished I could run the loop, was okay with doing what I did.
Another very hard lesson learned. If you do not treat your water, consider it. And according to some sources, options such as bleach may not kill giardia unless it is used in fairly high concentration. If you use bleach, you may want to do some research. This person did a lot of research on the different ways of purifying water. Apparently the Steripen is very effective....but only if you are sure it is working. And I may trade in my gray bottles for some clear ones.
1. Start at the Bartram Parking area at the end of Wayah Road, near the Raft Put-in Area. Head north on the Bartram on a paved walkway to single track on the other side of Highway 19. This is the first tough climb, to Cheoah Bald. The first part of the trail is pretty overgrown in the summer and the climbs are pretty deep in leaves in the fall and winter. Plenty of water and lots of creek crossings, including one you can't rock hop. You will connect with the AT south, shortly before you reach Cheoah Bald. Once at Cheoah Bald, take the AT south down to the Nantahala Outdoor Center. (I don't remember where water is, but there is a shelter below Cheoh, so I imagine there is water there.) Crew access (and restaurant, store at NOC)) 13.2 total miles.
2. Continue south on the AT, climbing back up to Tellico Gap. This is another long, tough climb. 8 miles. Little to no water until after the shelter that is 2.2 miles from Tellico Gap. Great views from the Jumpoff and the Wesser fire tower. Crew access.
3. Head south on Appalachian Trail 9.3 miles to Wayah Bald. There is a long climb (about 30 minutes for me) and then it becomes more rolling to Icewater Springs shelter. The spring runs right in front of the shelter, and for that reason, I do not use it. You will have a long descent (a little over a mile) to Burningtown Gap. You could have crew access you at Burningtown Gap. About a half mile past the gap is a good water source. The trail is nice from here to Wayah, runnable until the climb up Wayah which is not that bad. There is a shelter and a sign that points to a water source, but the water is quite a ways off the trail. The Bartram and AT will run together here for a while. As you climb up to Wayah, there is a spring where I usually get water. At Wayah, be prepared for lots of people at the tower (which is always jarring after so long in the quiet woods). There are pit toilets here. Crew Access
4. Continue south until the Bartram Trail leaves the AT. Right before it does, there is a spring at Wine Springs. It unfortunately does not dispense wine. Take the Bartram toward Nantahala Lake. 3.9 miles downhill to crew access at Sawmill Gap on Dirty John Road. You will hear firing from the firing range below, but it is quite a ways down in the valley. Be careful at this isolated road crossing.
5. Continue steeply (very steeply/butt slide in points) downhill to Nantahala Lake. There is water right before you reach the lake and also a creek running into the lake shortly thereafter. Take the paved road and go right. Be careful during the summer for traffic. You will pass a restaurant and small store. 4.1 miles downhill. Crew access.
6. Follow Bartram to Appletree Group Campground. 4.9 miles. Watch for the turn to the left off the road after the store. It goes down a driveway and then makes a sharp right uphill. It then heads to the left of a cabin at the top of the hill. It is usually overgrown here. Follow the trail and cross a couple of gravel roads. Be alert to trail markings because you will take one of the gravel roads a short distance before leaving it to head back onto single track. You will have some nice single track to run before getting dumped out on road past the dam. You will follow roads with some turns, so again watch for markings. There is a spring coming out of the rock wall as you get closer to Appletree. Crew access.
6. Continue on Bartram to where you started. 12.4 miles. The trail runs along the river very briefly, takes a gravel road through the campground and then heads back to the river. There are bathrooms in the campground and I assume they are open in the summer, but I have never tried them. Be alert to where the trail leaves this road and heads down to the river. Most of this section is rolling until you hit the climb up Rattlesnake Knob. It tends to get overgrown and can be a little confusing because it will follow an old forest road for awhile then abruptly leave it for singe track. There is abundant poison ivy in places and a couple of small streams. You're at a lower elevation, so it is also hotter and buggier. Before you get to Rattlesnake Knob, you will cross a creek that usually gets my feet wet Shortly after that, there is an intersection with Piercy Creek Trail. (If you had some sort of issue, you could take this trail, which is rocky and wet but downhill, to the Nantahala River, cross it, and then head left a mile or two back to your car.) The climb up Rattlesnake is not overly steep, but at this point, it just seems to go forever. There are a couple spots you could get water, but it would be better to
fill up at the creek rather than take a chance that they are dry. You'll finally top out, hit some narrow singletrack with hairpin curves and steep dropoffs and pop out at a water tower. Take the nice gravel road for a long downhill, where you will end up back where you started. .
This second description is a 100K course with a little out and back to bump up the mileage. It starts/ends in a different place on the loop and ends with a killer climb.
Goal: sub 18 hour
Course description with mileage and goal times.
1. Start/finish on Otter Creek Road, 3.2 miles from Tellico Gap. (Just past last old house on left. Parking place past there on right at forest road gate). Run 3.2 miles to Tellico Gap. 1:00 am
2. Head south on Appalachian Trail 9.3 miles to Wayah Bald. Crew access there. 3:45 am
3. Continue south until the Bartram Trail intersects. Take the Bartram toward Nantahala Lake. 3.9 miles downhill. Crew access at Sawmill Gap on Dirty John Road. 4:454. Continue downhill to Nantahala Lake and the Lakeside Store. 4.1 miles downhill. Crew access. 5:45 am
5. Follow Bartram to Appletree Group Campground. 4.9 miles. Crew access. 7:15 am
6. Continue on Bartram to Winding Stairs, where the raft put-in is. 12.4 miles. Crew access. 10:15 am
7. Climb 3000 in 5.1 miles with 7 stream crossings up to Cheoah Bald. Then take the AT south down to the Nantahala Outdoor Center. Crew access (and restaurant). 13.2 total miles. 2:30 pm.
8. Continue south on the AT, climbing back up to Tellico Gap. I did part of this on Saturday and there were a lot of steep, narrow areas on the trail, along with a lot of slick leaves. This might take some time. 8 miles. Crew access. 5 pm
9. Arrive at Tellico Gap, and head back down Otter Creek to the finish. 3.25 miles. 5:45 pm.
If you read my previous blog post, you know I had some mental issues going on with trying to hit my mileage goals. I ditched the record keeping and, voila, I started having fun running. What's more, I was actually motivated to start really training again and even started going to the gym on a more regular basis. All this was going well for two or three weeks, until I ran a very technical trail covered with several inches of snow. I hit the side of a snow-camouflaged rock and did some impressive acrobatics to stay upright. Everything was fine until I got home and took a nap. When I tried to get up, I couldn't. Those acrobatics twisted my back out of place and I was pinching a nerve. It took over three weeks, after some deep-tissue massage by Tony and some manipulation by the chiropractor, until I was finally pain-free.
But that was a month of no running. I was angry at first because one, I was in pain and that just made me grumpy, and two, because things had just started going well running-wise and I was back to square one. It turned out that that time off was a good thing, though. I explored non-technical forest roads that wouldn't aggravate my back and found some new places to run. Once I started back running, I eased into it, walking when I felt like it, limiting how long I ran and taking days off. As a result, I feel much better than I have in awhile.
A Shoe Review (kind of)
First of all, a disclaimer. I have been sponsored by Brooks for nine years and am not at all impartial. However, I don't think I have ever written a shoe review and it is not something Brooks expects me to do. Secondly, I wear road shoes on technical trail. So I am reviewing a road shoe as a trail shoe.
There was a lot of anticipation leading up to the release of the Brooks Transcend as it would be the cushiest shoe in their lineup. I pre-ordered mine, hoping to find a solution to joints that ached on downhills and on really long runs. When they finally came, I admired the bright pink color and then sent them back because they apparently run large. My second pair came and again I admired the bright pink color, but couldn't wear them for another month because of my injury.
When I finally got to run in them, I hated them. They didn't fit like any other Brooks shoe. They were a little wider, especially in the heel box and didn't have that glove-like feel that all of my other Brooks shoes did. But I wore them any way. I spent a lot of time adjusting the laces to try to get them to fit like my other shoes did. Finally, I just accepted the fact that they would fit differently.
I started using them on my easy forest road runs. I worked up to two hours in them. Then I took them on trails, through creeks and mud, over rocks and roots. I built up to a 20 mile somewhat technical run in them. And I liked them. Actually my body liked them. A lot. They are not super-cushy like Hokas, but I do feel a noticeable difference in them. I run over gravel and I can feel that there is gravel under me, but I do not really feel the hardness or sharpeness of the gravel. Unlike stiff trail shoes, they allow me to still feel the trail while protecting my feet. I run downhill and although I am not floating on a fluffy cloud, my joints feel a lot better. When I get to the car after a long run, I do not have the usual urge to quickly take my shoes off. They grip just fine on wet rocks and in the mud. They do not have an aggressive sole and I was worried I would be slipping around, but I didn't. They passed the "kick a rock hard with your toes" test, twice. (Not a planned test, either time.) They don't have any sort of toe protector, but in comparison to the Ravennas, Glycerins and Ghosts (my usual running shoes), it didn't hurt quite as bad. They drained just fine after running through creeks. And the fluorescent pink color got a lot of compliments from color-starved Appalachian Trail through-hikers. No blisters, no hotspots despite the difference in the fit. So the downside. They are heavier than what I usually wear (10.1 ounces) but not by much. They are expensive, but if they last as long or longer than other shoes, happy joints will be worth it. And then there is super-technical trail. The last long run I did in them was on a 20 mile run that was very rocky: lots of big rocks on the trail and a long section of essentially running upstream through a rocky creek bed. The last seven miles were pretty painful. I think that the "guide rails" in the shoes that are intended to keep your feet doing what they are supposed to be doing (on the road) worked against all that twisting and turning my feet were doing on those rocks. Plus, I couldn't get one shoe laced right and it hurt my foot. That day I was very glad to get them off my feet.
However, all the other experiences I had with the Transcends were positive and they will be my go-to shoe on everything non-technical. In fact, I wore my Ghosts for a long run the weekend after that technical run and really missed the Transcends. I could tell a big difference by the time I got back to the car.
A Spartan Race Giveaway
A lot of my friends like obstacle racing. Alan Buckner does a 24 hour obstacle race every year. Other friends really like the short, fast ones and yet others have not run one, but have put it on the to-do list. I personally haven't had the urge to do one, simply because I think I would just hurt a lot.
I did, however, have a lot of fun with Tony training Alan for his 24 hour race last year on a very cold day that ended with a bit of snow. We went out into the woods and tortured Alan by making him do situps in the frigid creek, retrieve rocks from the bottom of deep pools, do burpees and pushups in the mud, climb vertical slopes, throw logs, climb trees and up bridges, all with a heavy pack on. I did kind of feel an urge to do that sort of free-style obstacle but got over it as his wet-suit started icing over. This is my favorite picture from that day. It kind of sums it up.
Anyway, for those of you who would like to try one of these races (no creek training required), the Reebok Spartan Race folks have kindly donated a race-entry as a giveaway AND a link to a 15% discount on a race. It looks like there is supposed to be a Spartan Super this year in Asheville, so I might even be interested in doing that since it's in the backyard. Email me at email@example.com and tell me why you want to run a Spartan Race in five words or less. The first email with a cool response wins.
I never really kept track of my mileage until after my ACL surgery. Before, my record keeping consisted of this blog and a couple scraps of paper on which I wrote down my times for routes I ran frequently. I usually ran six days a week, simply because I felt better and fitter when I did. I tried to focus on quality workouts: a long run every week and a hill or speed work day thrown in here and there. I ran what I liked to run or what was convenient at the time, not just what I thought I ought to run. I think this worked out pretty well for me. I wasn't speedy or very competitive, but I could usually eek out a finish that I was happy with.
But then, the torn ACL changed everything. Not so much the injury itself, but how I began to look at running and training. After six months of rehabbing when I was finally allowed to start running again, I downloaded an app that would let me track my mileage. This was a great tool to make sure that I slowly eased back into running. Over the next six months, I worked on increasing my mileage
until finally I ran a 24 hour race and a 100 mile trail race.
Somewhere along the line though, numbers got stuck in my head. This was my thought process: If you are going to run a 100, you need to be running at least X number of miles a week. You also need to run X number of days a week. If you don't do that, you won't be able to finish X race without pushing too hard and reinjuring yourself.
I never thought like that before. I knew that the more I could run, the better I would do, but I didn't really add things up. Now I was making myself go out and run two more miles, so I could get at least X number that week. I was measuring routes to make sure the numbers were correct. And there it all was, laid out on the tablet. I wasn't measuring up. Look at that calendar. Look at all those days you missed. Look at what your average weekly mileage is. Heck, you shouldn't even be running 5Ks on those numbers. I even DNS'ed a race because I didn't think I had enough miles in.
It's only been in this last week that I did some realistic adding in my head. If I run six miles after school every day and a 25 mile long run on the weekend, the best I could do would be 55 miles, not even close to the numbers running around in my head. Which also means that for all those years I didn't track miles, I was rarely doing more than 55 miles a week.
The other morning, I spent a really long time deciding where to run on a beautiful winter day. I felt like I needed to get another longer run in since I was three weeks out from a race. So, I could either run somewhere to get those miles in or I could go somewhere just because I wanted to. I finally decided on the latter and ran half the miles I could have. I ran up to Black Rock (running being a very general term), which is a little less than eight miles, but climbs (and descends) about 1000 feet per mile.
You know, that eight miles is a whole different animal than eight miles around town. And I enjoyed that eight miles a lot more. After thinking on that fact for a little bit, I decided that this whole tracking my mileage thing is not working out for me. The app has got to go.
I'm going to head out for a run in the snow now. I don't know what direction I am heading nor how far I am running. All I know is it sounds like a lot of fun.