Vermont 50 recap

I almost can't believe it myself, but I finished the 50K!  There were certainly times that it seemed doubtful, but I met some really amazing fellow runners along the way that pulled me through the tough stretches and I was actually able to cross the finish line.

Total mileage:  32 and some change

Total elevation gain:  6500 feet

Total time:  Just shy of 8 hours

Other participants:  650 mountain bikers, 100 50K runners, and 150 50-mile runners

And now, for those of you that care for a more detailed recap, here it goes:

I arrived on Saturday night to a torrential downpour.  The race was to be held at Ascutney Mountain Ski area, and the parking lot of the ski resort was nothing but mud.  Registration went fine, and I headed back out in the the darkness of Vermont to find my bed and breakfast (which itself was a challenge in dark and rainy conditions--it really is amazing how dark Vermont is).

The race started at 8, and it was a completely different race start than I had ever encountered.  At most race starts, the runners are edgy and competitive.  At this start, everybody was laid back, and when they said "On your marks, get set, go!" (as opposed to a starting gun), everybody ambled past the start banner.  Clearly, there was no hurry if we were running over 30 miles through mountain trails.  Here is am at the start (note the lack of mud on me at this point):

 

Everybody was incredibly friendly and laid-back, and I hooked up pretty quickly with two women who had done the race many times before.  I told them this was my first ultra, and I was pretty much going to follow their lead.  They were both great--one was a kindergarten teacher and the other a 5th grade teacher (both in Vermont).  We ran along for 3 miles on dirt roads and then came to a massive hill.  I started to run up the hill but realized they (and everybody else around us) had stopped running and started to power walk up the hills.

Hence, the first rule of ultramarathons:  When you get to a big hill, walk.  Save your legs for later.

And I was more than happy to oblige this rule.  It also gave us the opportunity to chat and get to know each other a big better.  Not too much beyond the big hill, we came to our first aid station, and I was amazed to see the spread they had.  You name it, they had it:  M&Ms, cookies, Gatorade, water, Coke, Mountain Dew.  It was like a little buffet (more on aid stations later).

Not long after the aid station (which was at 4 miles), we headed into the trails, and I was delighted.  The trails were gorgeous:  wide, muddy trails with pine needles everywhere.  They were very unlike Connecticut's rocky granite trails, which can be impossible to run on at times.  The forests were beautiful with all their changing fall colors, and it was absolutely peaceful.  I really couldn't have been any happier--this was exactly the kind of experience I wanted.

Given that we were no longer on dirt roads but on single-track trails, I split off from the women and ran on my own for the next 20 miles.  This was both good and bad.  It was great because I really had the day to myself, but it got tough later when I didn't have anybody to pull me through some of the difficult stretches.

Shortly before the 2nd aid station I was stung by a bee, and it was ridiculous how much it hurt.  I don't think I've been stung by a bee in years, and it was pretty bad.  When I got to the aid station they said that several people had been stung (a swarm?), and that one woman had to be transported to the hospital.  At this aid station I had more M&Ms and gatorade, and headed out again (not sure what the mileage was here, but it was likely around 7 miles).  Shortly after this aid station I came upon some beautiful Vermont scenes:

   

 

I should say that for the first 10 miles of the race, the 50K runners were by ourselves, as the 50 mile runners and the 50 mile mountain bikers had started before us and were on a separate loop earlier in the race.  At the 10 mile aid station is the first time we saw the bikers.  I knew that for the rest of the race we'd be sharing the same trail, and I was a bit worried about how this would go (small, muddy trail:  650 bikers, tired runners).  But, it was great.  The bikers were exceedingly polite and kept telling us runners how much they admired what we were doing.  I kept telling them that they were the real heroes, as I can't imagine biking up some of those small muddy trails.  I did try to get off the trail whenever I head a biker coming, and it all seemed to go fairly well.  It did get very tiresome at times, especially later in the race, to be constantly moving off the trail, but it wasn't enough to turn me off the race.

Anyway, the picture below is from the 10 mile aid station.  I just wanted to show the spread of the food they had.  I worried that there wouldn't be enough food at the aid stations, but it really wasn't a problem.  The volunteers at the aid stations were all wonderful people, and they had fun music playing. I have never seen such an amazing race spread before (I should also mention that all aid stations had cut-up peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and turkey/cheese sanwiches, too!):

 

The next aid station at mile 14 came and went, and I felt great.  However, it turns out that the stretch between mile 14-19 was probably one of the most difficult parts of the race.  We climbed a huge mountain on single-track trails, and on the way down we probably ran at least 2 miles of constant switchbacks.  It was completely exhausting and very technical.  The hills/mountain were so steep that the bikers couldn't ride up it either (especially in the thick mud) and we ended up forming long lines of bikers pushing bikes up hills and runners interspersed between bikers.  In addition to this, it seemed like the aid station (which was supposed to be 5.7 miles from the previous aid station) didn't come when it was supposed to, and I was just beat.  When I finally pulled into the 20 mile station, I felt pretty fried.

It was at this aid station that I first had Mountain Dew.  I had heard it was a great pick-up, and I do think it helped, a little.  However, the next aid station wasn't for another 4 miles, and this stretch between mile 20 and 24, though not technically difficult, was probably the worst for my mental health.  I was exhausted and my legs were starting to get fried.  I really began to think seriously about dropping out.  I was running by myself and there weren't many people around on this stretch.  A few bikers zipped past every once in awhile as this stretch had a lot of dirt roads, but I was pretty much alone in terms of other runners.  It was beautiful, though:

 

 

I finally hauled myself into the aid station at around 24 miles and figured that's all I had.  There was a nice bench there and I sat my butt down and started to look around and figure out who to ask to give me a ride back to the ski area.  Just about this time, a guy who looked as tired as me plopped next to me on the bench and asked how I was doing.  I told him not well, and he said it wasn't his day, either.  It turns out he was a 50-mile runner, and after about 20, he knew he wasn't going to bet setting any world records.  I told him I was thinking about dropping out, and he looked at me with shock and told me there was no way he was going to let me drop out, even if we had to walk the last 10 miles together.  He went and got me a bowl of steaming hot noodles (yes, at this aid station, in addition to M&Ms, drinks, cookies, etc they had grilled cheese and hot noodle soup!).  He also brought me a couple cups of Mountain Dew.  I did feel better after this, and off we went.

I have to say that having somebody to run with did me a world of good.  I probably had some of the best four miles of running I had in the whole race, and we zipped up and down some pretty technical trails (he, too, was a believer in walking up hills, so we did a fair share of that).  It turns out his name was Tim, and he done done many ultramarathons, and had just done the Vermont 100 this summer.  He told me that he had guided a man who did not speak English for over 30 miles in the middle of the night at the Vermont 100, so I knew Tim was the right person for me.  We ran through some beautiful patches together.  I thought this was beautiful:

My run with Tim did go very well for 4 miles, but unfortunatley the next aid station didn't come until 5.5 miles, so the last mile and a half were tough.  I think the Mountain Dew and the hot noodles had worn off and I was just feeling exhausted again.  Tim didn't let me stop, though, and dragged my butt to that last aid station.  The picture below is him in front of me.  The mountain in front of him is Ascutney, which is the mountain that you have to run up (and down) in the last 4 miles of the race.  He told me that as he pointed to it, and I just knew I would never make it to the finish.

Finally, we got to the last aid station, at mile 28.9.  It was just another 4 miles to the finish, but I told Tim that I just couldn't make it.  I decided there would be no shame in having come this far and not finishing.  He wished me luck, and took off to finish the race.  I even contacted one of the race directors and told them I was shot and needed a ride to the finish and they were more than happy to do so. 

However, I don't think I was completely convinced that I should stop so close to the finish, so I kept hanging around that last aid station trying to make up my mind.  Right at the moment I was really having second thoughts, one of the women (Ashley) that I had run with in the first 5 miles of the race rambled into the aid station.  She knows the course forwards and backwards, and Iasked her if I could run the final four miles with her.  She was more than happy to have company, and I have to admit the last four miles went amazingly quick.  We talked a lot about kindergarten, as she is a kindergarten teacher, and her knowledge of the last few miles of the course (just up this hill, and then we're in the final mile), made the remaining miles fly by.

The last 1/2 mile was straight downhill down the ski slope into Ascutney lodge, and of course I was bawling like a baby.  It really did feel like a huge accomplishment.  And no sooner did I stop running that, for the first time all day, it started to rain torrentially.  I managed to haul my sorry self into the lodge and sit there for 10 minutes until it stopped raining.

I would have loved to have had a post-race beer (supplied by Harpoon, I think) but the beer station was up a small hill, and there was just no reasonable way I could make it up one last hill (even to a beer!).  I showered, got in my car, stopped at Dunkin Donuts (drive through, as the legs weren't working anymore), and headed home.

All in all, I have to say it was an amazing experience.  Painful, yes.  Incredibly so.  But it was exactly what I hoped it would be:  a day to spend all day running in the woods, in a beautiful place, meeting great people, and testing my limits.  I could have done a lot of things, better, I'm sure.  More training would have certainly helped, but given southern Connecticut doesn't have near the mountains as Vermont, I'm not sure how much more mountain training I could have done here in my area.

I'll say one thing:  the sign-up for next year's race is in May, and I'll be the first in line to do it again (much to my mother's dismay, I'm sure, as she was hoping I would 'get it out of my system').  Quite the opposite has happened, I fear:  I think I've got it into my system.

Comments

[Kris]

Let me be the first to congratulate you (via your blog, anyway)! It sounds tremendous! You should feel very proud, my friend. You've got me thinking about maybe next year...?

[JWN]

Great job!

I remember some fun fall runs out in WA with you but none quite like this.

Love the treats, seems like a nice add.

[Nancy Bakos]

I had no doubt in my mind that you would finish! Vermont is so wonderful, I think that's why I love my son's school. Everyone is so nice and accomodating! His ARMY P/T training sessions go into the mountains and he feels it would be harder in CT for the fact that there is no beautiful scenery! I wonder if Kim would do the next one with you?!?!

[Lisa]

Congratulations Krisen! I also had no doubt that you would finish. You are an inspiration!

[Ashley Morse]

Beautiful pictures Kristen! I was so glad to read that you had the bug and would be back for more! I had no doubt in the last four miles that you would finish. It was an honor to run with you and I will look for you next year. Its my 40th so I will be running the 50! I had better train for that one.

Best,
Ashley

[Runnerguy]

Nice job! Good to see that you hung in there. I ran the 50K too. It's a beautiful course and a good race. Good luck.