The Promise Land 50K+ - Part 2 (Where I actually do some running)

My alarm went off at 4.  The night before I had decided that I’d rather wake to my own alarm than Hortie’s ear piercing bull horn alarm at 4:30.  I still had lots to do before the race, with coffee consumption being at the top of the list.  Lubed up, hydration pack filled, hand held filled with an 800 calorie Perpetuem/Hammer Gel slurry, arm warmers, gloves, windbreaker, compression socks, gaiters, Garmin, etc, etc.  I was good to go. As I was going through my preparations, I heard a shout go up from the folks outside and a round of applause.  It must have been for the runner who started the Promise Land the night before.  It sounded like he’d made it in with a little bit of time to rest before starting it all over again. 

At 5 I heard a tap on the side of the RV and opened the door to a shivering Angela.  She greeted me with a plea for a warm place to change clothes.  She’d had a long, long night trying to stay warm.  I’d offered her some bunk space in the RV the night before, but she had been confident that she’d be fine under her bundles of blankets.  Unfortunately, it had turned out to be much colder than she’d anticipated.

Runners huddle in the pavilion and await the start.

 As we headed for the pavilion, I grabbed a ratty old wool blanket out of the RV to wrap around myself for the last few minutes before the start.  Hundreds of runners were gathered in the dark around the pavilion with headlamps and flashlights.  There was lots of foot stomping and arm rubbing going on as folks tried to stay warm.  I just huddled up under my blanket and took it all in.  I believe temps were in the low 40’s.

Trying to stay warm for a 5:30 a.m. start

Angela working on her peanut butter breakfast

Hortie was obviously a morning person.  He was out in full form giving last minute pep talks and exhorting runners to do their best.  Bull horn in hand he seemed to spark and bounce with excitement as the final minutes ticked off.  He very much prided himself on starting every race exactly on time.

David Horton (RD) with beloved megaphone in hand.

 At 5:30 on the dot, a simple shouted “GO!” sent us all off and we flowed out of the meadow and hit the gravel road as a mass of pounding feet and bobbing headlamps.

The first 2.6 miles of the course are up Overstreet Rd.  A gravel forest service road that climbs at a steeper and steeper pitch from around 1300’ to 2600’.  Along this stretch I fell into step with an older runner who seemed quite comfortable and relaxed.  I said hello and opened the conversation with some questions about the course ahead.  He looked like he’d been here before.  As we chit chatted back and forth in the dark, I discovered that this was Doug Dawkins, one of the founding member of the Mangum Track Club.  I had just completed the famous Mangum Shirt Run some 3 weeks earlier to earn my lifelong membership in the club.  What a blast to get to meet and run with Doug!  It was gonna be a good day. 

Aid Station 1 was positioned at the very top of our path up Overstreet.  There they offered a box for runners to drop headlamps and gear into.  I chose to deposit my flashlight, my gloves and my arm warmers.  (This decision would come back later to haunt me.) I lost Doug at this point as his stop at the aid station had been for just a second or two.  He glanced over at me as he entered the single track and wished me well.  I downed a cup of water, took off my jacket and strapped it on the back of my pack as I headed up onto the single track.

There was a line of runners streaming up the trail.  No running here.  We were all in power hike mode as we hit this steeper section of the climb.  The next 1.5 miles would gain us another 900’ of elevation to top us out at 3500’.  As we continued to climb, the first glimpses of the sun could be seen coming over the ridge line to the east.  It was breathtaking.  There were scattered clouds and fog in the valleys.  The mountains seemed to circle around us, with the valley that we’d just climbed out of stretched out below.  I had been using my iPhone to track my run and for picture taking.  At this point, as I hit about 3000’ I guess I finally got cell phone reception as my phone beeped at me.  A quick glance down revealed a missed call from my little brother up in CT placed at about 6 a.m.  On a whim, I tried to call him back.  I was walking at this point and although I was huffing a bit, we were able to have a quick conversation.  He just wanted to wish me luck on my run.  He got a good chuckle at my uncontained excitement as I described the view around me and the terrain ahead.  He was headed out for his own Mud Run event with some friends, but figured he’d be done in about another two hours.  I, on the other hand, had a long day ahead.

Views of the valley below from Onion Mtn.

All systems were a go for me and I was feeling great.  Hortie had exhorted us to try and make it to the Sunset Fields Aid Station (mile 13.7) by 9:15.  At my current pace, even with the huge wakeup climb those first 4 miles up Onion Mountain where I averaged about a 16+ min/mile pace, I was right on track and doing fine.  After that initial climb, we entered a very runnable section of trail.  A wide grassy path called the Glenwood Horse Trail with a gradual decent until about mile 8.  Here I was able to make some time and dropped my pace down to under 12 min/mile.  Beautiful views surrounded me as we ran along the shoulders of Onion Mtn. I couldn’t help but constantly look off to my right at the ring of mountains and the valley below.  The sound of birdsong filled our ears and at one point I was buzzed by a beautiful scarlet tanager.  Temps now had perhaps reached almost 50F.

Glenwood Horse Trail

Coming up to Reed Creek Aid Station 2 I was feeling good.  I clocked the aid station at 10 miles and hit it right around 8 a.m.  I grabbed a mini PB&J and cup of water, thanked the volunteers and headed back out. I didn’t feel the need for much more and opted to bypass all the bowls of M&Ms, cookies, oranges, bananas and potato chips that covered the table. I had filled my hydration pack with about 50 oz of water and I knew I was doing fine on that and didn’t need to top off yet.  I was also taking periodic hits off my fuel bottle and an electrolyte capsule about every hour. 

From Reed Creek, it’s just 3 miles to the top of Apple Orchard Mtn but about 1000’ ft of climbing.  Once again, I ended up doing a good bit of power hiking here, but if I could make it to Sunset Field aid station atop Apple Orchard Mtn by 9:15, I should be in a good position to beat the 10 hour race cutoff.  I managed a 16 min/mile pace on this climb section.  I fell into step with an older gentleman by the name of Gene Potter.  He was the guy who was keeping his streak at Promise Land going by running this 12^th race.  We talked about the AT, we talked about family, we talked about lots of things.  It was a pleasure.  Ends up his daughter lives down by Fayetteville, NC (she’s in the military) and she’s a really, really talented runner.  Like she qualified for the Olympic Marathon Trials type talent. 

Crossing the Blue Ridge Parkway

Coming up to Sunset Fields you cross the Blue Ridge Parkway and run a brief paved road section of the course.  Here Gene pulled ahead and I would not see him again.  Coming up to the Aid Station 3 at Sunset Fields I was greeted by a loud yell from Charles West exhorting me to “Run!!!  Run faster!!”  Charles is a very excitable kinda fellow, always willing to lend some advice and support to his fellow runners ;-)  He was going to be sweeping the course later that day.  Following behind the last of the runners removing the white trail ribbon markers and picking up any miscellaneous trash that may have been dropped during the race.  I asked Charles to help refill my hydration pack and he very happily hopped to it while I grabbed some Oreo cookies at the aid tables. 

From the Sunset Fields Aid Station (mile 13.7)

The view here at Sunset Fields was exceptional.  We still had only spotty clouds and beautiful blue skies.  Up this high, the trees had not even begun to leaf out and the surrounding woodlands had a wintery look to them. I pulled out of that aid station and began my descent to “the dark side” a little before 9 a.m., more than a quarter hour ahead of Hortie’s suggested cutoff.  All was good.

Crossing the A.T.

From this point, we would begin a precipitous descent into the Shenandoah Valley.  The trail immediately had me crossing the Appalachian Trail.  I couldn’t help but stop to touch the trail sign, grab a picture and stare down the trail at those beloved white blazes.  Good memories.  This section of trail was a pretty technical and steep descent, so I had to pay attention to my footing.  From a high of roughly 4000’ atop Apple Orchard, we would be plummeting rather rapidly to the valley floor along Cornelius Creek to a low of roughly 1200’.  The descent to aid station 4 (Cornelius Creek) is a steep one but it runs you beside a beautiful creek.  I couldn’t help but be distracted by the scene and that inviting sound of rushing water.  You can’t look for more than but a glimpse though or you risk taking a header on this bit of single track.

It was here that we began the creek crossings we’d heard so much about.  Hortie had advised us to just plow through the creek crossings and not goof around trying to rock hop.  His point was that injuries from slipping were highly likely and it was better to just go ahead and get wet.  It’s hard to break old habits though.  The thought of running another 15+ miles in wet shoes made me go ahead and do a bit of bouldering to ford the first crossing and keep my feet dry.  In hindsight, this was absolutely pointless and ridiculous.  Oh well, I would soon learn.  The next two creek crossings were much deeper and much more treacherous.  I stopped to study the options at the second crossing, but ultimately decided to just plunge in and wade across.  Water depth ranged from above the ankle to just below the knee depending on where you stepped.  The icy waters actually felt rather awesome on my feet and I hoped that the hours of wetness I now faced wouldn’t result in too much foot damage and blistering.

I’d been doing well on the descent portion and pacing myself well to make it into AS 4 (mile 17.8), the half way point.  A quick check in at the aid station but I didn’t stop for any food. I was still sucking off my fuel bottle and had a little bit more left.  I did however pull off to the side for a few minutes just after the aid station for a more lengthy potty break as well as to change the batteries on my iPhone (which I was using as a tracking device so my family could follow my progress remotely).

A two mile long road section followed.  Here I was able to pull off 11 minute miles before we took a right hand turn and dove into the woods once again.  This time on White Tail Trail.  An aptly named trail as it wasn’t much more than a deer trail.  Very, very narrow single track with a sharp drop on your left.  My mind couldn’t help but think about the young man who had traversed this section of trail during the night.  One wrong step and he would have been plummeting down the side of the trail.

Next stop, aid station 5 - “Colon Hollow”.  What a lovely name.  My energy was dwindling quickly now to an all time low. By this time, I had been out on the course for over 5 hours. My legs were tired, but they weren’t in too bad of shape yet.  I just felt wiped out and completely drained, no way around it. As I approached the aid station on an ascent (of course it would be an ascent to the aid station), one of the volunteers called out to me asking what I might need.  I yelled back to him that I needed his strongest dose of “go-go juice” whatever that might be.  He rattled off a list of my food and drink options as we entered the aid station together.  Ice cream, popsicles, PB&J, oranges, bananas, cookies, candy, chips, water, Gatorade, shot blocks, potatoes, Mountain Dew and WHISKEY!  Yup, that’s right, they had a big old bottle of whiskey plunked down right in the middle of the beverage offerings with cups at the ready. 

I was a bit of a party pooper.  I declined the shot glass and opted for some Mountain Dew and some potato chunks dipped in salt.  It was perfect!  As I left the aid station with a parting glass of Mountain Dew to sip on, I got my first inkling that we might be in for a bit of weather ahead.  Over the last few miles, I'd been in a bit of a green tunnel, with very limited views to the skies above.  Now, as I entered a small clearing and looked overhead, I noticed how the beautiful blue skies I'd enjoyed on top of Apple Orchard Mountain were gone.  The skies had clouded over, the wind was picking up and making the leaves flutter and sway and I could hear thunder off in the distance.