Easy Afternoon

3.13M @ 29:50

Christi wanted to get some recovery in herself, so we agreed to take it easy at McAlpine.  I thought we might appreciate the shade of Boyce, so we parked at Boyce Park and headed down the trail side with Layla.  I was slogging around with the girls, trying to keep an eye out for copperheads and eagerly anticipating my eventual recovery from Hinson, as we cut through Lower Boyce just to run into Lisa Mulvey.  She had an unexpected early afternoon run due to Rosh Hashanah giving the kids the day off from school.  Lisa made great company as she and Christi took off ahead of Layla and I.  This was actually to my benefit as Layla tried to catch up to them, she pulled me along decreasing my effort.  Ironically, five days after the ultra, while we were heading back up the trail to Boyce Park, I wanted to walk up the hill.

The short run we shared with Lisa came to an end, and I'm certain we were all a bit more cheerful to have shared a couple miles. I'm told shortly after we parted, Lisa spotted one of the copperheads that we missed.  What a lucky day.  It's about time for me to settle on a nice fall race and figure out what my plan is for the rest of the year, but I'm glad to get a few miles at a time out of the way. I love our sport.

Hinson Lake 24 Hour Ultra Classic: The Sponsorships, Endorsements, Tip of the Caps, & Wag of the Fingers

Before I go on to recap my version of Hinson Lake 24 Hour Ultra, I think acknowledgment is due in a number of areas.  I could not have taken half as many strides around the lake if it had not been for months of preparation, Divine Intervention, and a lot of support from some key individuals.

Naturally, so much of my recent training has become more and more inspired as I see God's work in every run I have.  These seventy mile weeks have been great for my training physically but, it takes a bit more than that to achieve something great.  If you can keep up with facebook well enough, then you have probably caught a bigger glimpse of my spiritual perspective on this whole ultra training thing already.

The most consistent supporter of my performances has without a doubt been Christi herself.  Of course, with CC being such an all-star girlfriend, she decided to surprise me with a goodie bag of small gifts from RFYL.

Sponsorship? - Since Christi was one of a few individuals from RFYL to donate products to my cause,  I'll continue to consider RFYL as my Official Sponsor whether Tim Rhodes knows it or not.  I say this, of course, presuming that there would not be any legal fall out due to the relationship I already have with the company, it's staff, and various representatives.

Tip of the Cap:

Kara Pettie Vincent (KPV) -
Where do I even begin with how much and how long Kara has been doing all the little things to make me a better runner.  I remember early last summer when I was even more green with respect to the marathon distance, I started talking about how 26.2 could not be enough for me.  Sure it is an exceptional goal for those seeking conventional wisdom, but now that I want to be a little crazy, KPV was quick to refer me to Chad Randolph (2010 Charlotte Runner of the Year Honorable Mention) who also played a key role.

Of course, I have to be thankful to Kara for the little things too.  Kara is the reason I now own three pairs of the original Brooks Ravenna.  As a store manager at RFYL and running coach, Kara could just stop at selling me a pair of shoes, but she has offered me countless pieces of advice and put me in position to try out a number of different products over the last year.

As my friendship with Kara has developed from compulsive retail visits to miles shared around town, she has continued to prove herself an irreplaceable friend in other areas of my life.  If it had not been for a little tri-athlete connection Kara made, I would not have my current job.  In this case, I knew someone, who knew someone who just happened to be looking for someone like me.  Then if it had not been for a short e-mail from Kara to the UCRR list serve, Christi might still be waiting to break into her first coaching gig.  As if KPV had not proven herself time-and-time again, most recently, she and her husband (that's right, sorry guys, I said, "husband.") Adam drove out to Mint Hill to meet me with a bottle of Hammer Endurolytes just because I told her I liked them.

From the shoe analysis, to the socks, numerous shared mileage, key referrals, and random other products and topics of conversation, KPV was a very important part of getting me this far.  This upstate New York soccer girl who thinks the triathalon is a worthwhile use of time has left her mark on what I hope to be my "early days" of ultra.

Endorsement:

photo courtesy of brooksrunning.com

Brooks Ravenna - I am now on my third pair of lightweight trainers with minimal support; they fall into Brooks Guidance line though they no longer produce this original series it can be found at wholesale costs if you look hard enough.  Rather than describe the shoe, I'll trust that anyone capable of reading this far is also capable of using a search engine like Google.  I will say that the first two pairs have managed to survive 400+ miles and carried me through long mileage training for 2010 Thunder Road Marathon, 2011 Frosty 50K Ultra, and six additional months of high mileage.  While these kicks offer limited weather protection, they worked okay for the gritty conditions found at Hinson Lakes trails.

Wag of the Finger:  Hammer Endurolytes -  I had tried out a small 4 pack of these capsules over the course of two long runs, and in actuality, I shared one with Clayton.  Nonetheless, I felt no side effects, and thought that was enough of a practical trial to make the sound judgment to use them for HL24.  The problem is, this race, like many other small-town ultra events, actually provides a fantastic spread of solid foods containing all of the nutritional supplements the grassroots pioneers of real ultra running. Passing the food spread every lap before my aid station, it was much easier to fuel and replenish on the natural products instead of any supplements that I brought on my own.  I did take two capsules a few hours apart, but in hindsight, I don't think it had much of a contribution to my race.  Truthfully, the wag of the finger goes to me for not making more use of Hammer Endurolytes in training at least, since I can hardly consider this product a factor over the course of the twenty-four hours.

Tip of the Cap: Chad Randolph - 

Chad after suriving the 100-mile Iron Horse Endurance Run in Florida earlier 02/11

As a typical Davidson Area Man, Chad is another one of those guys labeled, "one of the nicest guys you'll ever meet."  So pardon the cliche, but Chad is an ever-effective man of the community, and when I can make my way to the Run For Your Life - University, he's got lots of anecdotal wisdom to share. This gent has such a way with people that you know he can get connected to anything you want in the running community.  His experiences cover a nice spectrum, and I was more than happy to have listened.

After KPV told me I needed to get in touch with Chad, I found him on facebook and sent him a message singing his praise ala Kara.  I mentioned how I was just getting into real distance running, but hoped to transition to ultra.  I wasn't really sure what to ask of him at this point in the summer, but it wasn't long before I spotted him at the Davidson Lands Conservancy Run for Green Half last September.  The guy looked like a living legend, like a local Bill Bowerman, just waiting to impart wisdom.  Over the next year, Chad and I would bump into each other at various races and exchange encouraging words online as well, but it was the little things this summer that made the biggest difference in my preparation for HL24.

In the beginning of July, my Garmin started going on the fritz.  After a few failed attempts at trying to buy a used one from other friends, Chad easily offered his as he "upgraded" to one of the fancier Garmins.  Pretty simple exchange, but it was on this day that we discussed the quickly approaching fall races we had planned.  Just like every other time I've had a minute with Mr. Randolph, he gave me as many little bits as my mind could process, but there was one thing that Chad warned that stuck with me in my training, during the race, and will undoubtedly follow me to every other ultra I do the rest of my life.

Tip of the Cap: Swiftwick Vibe Socks –

Normally, I have very little to say about the socks on my feet, but this gift made a phenomenal difference.  I had never seen this brand before, but when it showed up at my apartment, I figured I had to try them out given the multiple times I would need to change socks during the race.  The recommendation from Dexter at RFYL was that these socks would be perfect for Trail Running.  Knowing nothing about these socks, my first criticism was the high ankle cut, thinking to myself, these had better be good for the trails.  For the few who don’t know me well enough, I would typically never buy socks that come above my ankles.  I like my socks cut about as low as I like shorts.  Coming into the start of HL24 with the sporadic overnight – early morning showers, I figured the best time to try these would be the start of the race since I didn’t have any gators and I didn’t picture the gritty wet sand feeling too pleasant sliding down inside my socks. 

The second I put the Vibes on, I felt what could have been the best fit I’ve ever discovered in running socks.  I have often promoted my nd multiple pairs of Feetures Thorlo Experias for their perfect combination of lightweight feel, cushion, and still some compression, but these were something similar but still better.  I was slightly concerned by the impression that I didn’t see any cushioning in these very thin socks that instantly conveyed their purpose of compression.  I am already not a huge proponent for compression apparel personally, but I think I finally found what compression should feel like in the Swiftwick Vibes. As a few hours went on and I surpassed my first marathon of the day, I thought I would need to change socks and shoes, but to my surprise, the socks were completely dry.  This would be the best incidence of wicking that I can personally recall.  My feet felt completely dry all afternoon.  I even kept them on through my second marathon of the day.  Now that the race is over, I took the time to Google and find out about this great piece of apparel.  Turns out that Swiftwicks are designed for multiple sports, hardly focusing on running, but boy did they work wonders.

Sponsorship:  Dexter Pepperman - As RFYL - South Park's General Manager, Dexter has gotten to know a lot of faces in the community, and has provided tons of advice. This fun-loving family man has impacted lots of lives of other runners, and though I've only known him for a year, he has benefited my life no less. Dexter has continued to hook me up with tips and share so many past opportunities that I only wish I could have experienced. For this event, I dispelled all of Dexter's cajoling and focused more on my own race, but I took some of his gifts and advice with me. Looking back, I have let too much time pass to recall all the ways he benefited me for this race specifically, but do know that he is in my top 5 local influences for ultra.

Wag of the Finger: Eating Too Much Junk - It was about 14 months ago, Brian Sammons was schooling me on the importance of hydration and nutrition, a notion I had often scoffed at assuming that was only for people in Couch to Marathon programs. I'd since spent the last year learning more and more about refueling adequately for the ultramarathon distances. I have experimented with different types of supplements and solid foods that I can eat on the run and keep down. I have a long list of items that I think work and have an even longer list of things that I know don't work for me. A lot of competitive runners who think they have mastered marathoning and other distances may be surprised to see all of the products that truly competitive ultramarathoners actually consume. I certainly understand how poorly things can turnout when you realize you are undernourished too late in a 24 hour, but I should have heeded certain warning signs that I was consuming the wrong ratio of products. A list of items that I will say worked pretty well, and I only blame my ability to mix these correctly is as follows: Cool Mint Oreos, blueberry cereal bars, chicken noodle soup, Motrin, Pepcid A/C, Ibuprofen, more Ibuprofen, pretzels, pb&j, bananas. I am nowhere near an expert or even remotely experienced enough to weigh in on how big of a difference any one of these items made or how I could have improved with taking these, but I know I definitely should have left out some other junk and maybe some of these items that I think worked so well.

Tip of the Cap: Thomas Eggar and Michelle Hazelton - Maybe I should mention these two separately since they both helped me in different ways, but now that I have spent weeks trying to organize my thoughts on them, I might as well just get it out. I can not believe how great of pacers these two turned out to be.

Thomas, an experienced ultramarathoner who can do a -3:00 marathon anytime he chooses, but can also run a 22 second 200m the same month of a sub 24 hour 100 miler. The guy is talented across the board.

Michelle, is widely known as one of the top female competitors in the area, with her unforgettable form she is a true beast from the mile on up to her marathon. While both Thomas and Michelle have great running prowess, it's their great hearts that I think is hardly heralded enough.  

Michelle, Thomas, and I courtesy of Christi

After working all night and morning, Thomas drove out to the lake to show up and offer support. Thomas covered lap after lap with me providing positive affirmations even when I had to walk. I couldn't believe a guy that could run non-stop for a 100 miler could handle my ultra-weakness. As he saw me munching on the wrong mixture and offered kind suggestions that I should have heeded more. The biggest thing I got from him was to just keep moving and watch what I'm consuming.

Following the butt-kicking Michelle offered to Salem Lake's 30k trail run, she drove up and offered lap after lap even into the night. At this point, I had no idea what a huge difference the positive affirmations from a friend could make. I knew that Michelle had shown up to help cheer Thomas on in an ultra before, but no way she had ever watched someone move with such painfully geriatric speed. Every lap I kept thinking there was no way she could stand to stick around and move with me any longer, she pushed out even more good vibes. Michelle is very good at helping me put things in perspective, and realize that my body is capable of more than I know, and even showing up is an accomplishment enough that I must be compelled to keep going.

The stories and encouragement I gained from Thomas and Michelle made so many miles go by before I knew it. By the time Thomas had to go right back to work and Michelle back home, I felt so bonded to them, and forever indebted. To someone who has never endured an ultra, it is tough to grasp the life-changing difference support in the fashion makes. As long as the two of them were there, I felt like I had to keep trucking; I couldn't let them down. It wasn't about my speed or mileage at that point, I just had to keep moving. Having my fellow club members sacrifice time out of their life to make this trip had to be worth me not giving in to weakness.

Tip of the Cap & Wag of the Finger: Support Crew - To take on an endeavor like this, I realize that any and all support adds up to make it all come together. It's everyone that runs any miles with you leading up to the event, the kind gestures from friends around the community, the stories about "this one race...," the references to articles that any novice could have written but still provide constant reminders, the encouraging words in the days leading up to the event, the people who help you get your aid and supplies, any shoulder you have to lean on while changing shoes, the positive phrases and high fives from friends, knowing God's supporting me with every step you take, and every mile you share with someone even in the speechless moments of the race.

There were so many contributing factors to help me carry on, but for an ultra novice such as myself, having a dedicated support crew member into the late hours would have made an epic difference. Even now, Chad Randolph's advice, "Whatever you do, don't sit down," still resounds whenever I think of the distance. But how does someone change shoes or change anything without sitting down. In truth, after your body has been going for more than twelve hours, it is extremely difficult without someone crewing you for even the simple tasks.

Time and time again, I am reminded that to help crew anyone in an ultra is a completely selfless task. For most of us as runners, I have all sorts of theories as to why our competitive running is really just an excuse for us to be selfish. Really, there is almost no reward for a dedicated pacer or crew member. You have to sacrifice so much energy and time for virtually no compensation just to see someone else reach goals. To this day, I still have not paced anyone else for an ultra, but I am assured it does not compare to any of the pacing I have provided others for short distances.

If you have not heard by now, I did not reach my goals. After running the mile and a half loop around Hinson Lake from 08:00 Saturday to 02:00 Sunday, I stopped to change shoes one more time. At this point, I had no crew, almost no light, no sense of mathematical pacing computations or physiological self-awareness. My body was in pain, but I kept trying to convince my mind that I could keep going. As I jumped into the tent to try to find my shoes, I struggled to cross this hurdle, and then came the daunting task of sliding off my Ravennas while standing. Unfortunately, I could not find a way to bend enough without toppling over, so I found my way to the camping chair in the tent. As I managed to bend and untie one of the shoes, I still could not pull it off my foot. Slowly I reasoned that I could lay on my back to propel my feet in the air and free the footwear. Thankfully, I succeeded with this step, but then there was no way I could muster my body back up to grab my next pair of shoes. I tried rolling in any number of directions -- all with total futility. I accepted temporary defeat and calculated how I could rest my body for an hour or two and still get back up to move somewhat refreshed.

 

Now, I swear I tried to set an alarm, but at 07:40 I woke up after sunrise realizing I might miss my opportunity to even see Mike Morton (the certain winner) embark on his last lap. Remembering that my previous mile and a half loops were taking closer to forty-five minutes, I knew it was too late for me to set out and hope to return safely given the train wreck I was feeling from head-to-toe. I woke Christi up as I agonizingly tried to pull myself together to catch the finish and understood that 100k would have to be my highest milestone. It was great for my first time out, but not for what I believed my training should have prepared me. I learned countless lessons, shared so many experiences that I wish so many of you could have shared, and I am eager to get back out and try again. While even participating this much in the 2011 Hinson Lake 24 Hour Ultra Classic was a personal victory, I felt like the biggest winner taking home such a trophy of a girlfriend, having been awarded great friends from various clubs around the state, including HOJO, Dr. Rose, and Katie Hines from UCRR and Mark Long from MTC, and all the while being gifted with God's grace to carry me through step after step.

Regardless of which distance you like to run, if you have any curiosity about this sort of event, I encourage you to check out Hinson Lake's 24 Hour specifically. The cost was a mere $24 this year, the courses maximum elevation change is less than 50', you pass your food, bathroom, or personal aid station every mile and a half, and you can stop or start whenever you want to cover whatever distance you want. It worked out very well that Christi was able to exceed her longest distance ever [big round of applause] by covering 50k and still was able to see me often enough to show support to me in the midst of it. The participants and volunteers at ultramarathons are the most supportive and "fun"-loving people you will ever see at any race around the world, and you are guaranteed to make a new friend or two. Until you join me for my next "adventure," thanks for reading, now go run.

Mile Repeats

Goal: 3x1mi. @ 6:00-6:15/mi. w/ 3 min. recovery
w/u: 1.34 mi. w/ Larry Seavers; c/d: .64 mi.
Actual: 6:14.6, 6:10.8, 6:12.9

I wanted to get at least two workouts completed today, so the simple plan was to make my first Christi's lunchtime mile repeats at the Dilworth Speed Loop.  It was good to get the high leg turnover again.  By now, you know I crave the burn from "over-training."  I trust I pushed Christi hard enough through the three of these, but I really wanted my reps to be at the faster end of the goal window.  So in the end, I had a decent workout, but wish I would've just pushed a little more.

Blue Ridge Relay Weekend

Leg 2: 7.76 @ 55:57 (7:13/mi) - "Hard" (1431 ft drop, 238 ft gain)
Leg 14: 9.99 @ 1:29.16 (8:56/mi) - "Very Hard" (149 ft drop, 838 ft gain)
Leg 26: 4.41 @  34:36 (7:51/mi) - "Moderate" (583 ft drop, 104 ft gain)

Since so many of our friends have written wonderful recaps of this year's relay, I think I can safely keep my perspective pretty short now that I let the time pass.  I certainly had a great time with great friends on Stache and Dash and other teams, and I would certainly love to do it again.

Leading into the big weekend, I took the Wednesday and Thursday off to play it safe, but still managed to get insufficient sleep Thursday night.  We pulled into Anne Marie's house at 6:30 to load up the vans, and by 7 we were on the road.  I had hoped to get some reading done assuming everyone else would want to sleep, but spirits were so upbeat with Adam Gasperini driving, Emily Barrett navigating shotgun, Siobhan Havlik riding Kurt Cobain, Christi beside me, Glenn Carroll studying the volunteer manual hard, and Laura Sudduth providing loads of entertainment it was impossible for me to relax in Van #1.  We became even more anxious after our short convenience store stop almost turned into a collision with Lat Purser's team van.  By the time we hit Virginia, my intent to focus on reading developed into sound upright sleeping in the van.  Soon after the quick nap, we were approaching Grayson Highlands State Park, and could see some of the early starters coming down the mountain.  Excitement really started to mount as we passed one of UCRR's teams the Designated Drinkers hanging out at the first exchange point, then we saw Diane Derkowski running down from the start to meet the DD's.

photo courtesy of Rob Ducsay...
Van 1 L to R: Emily, Me, Christi, Laura, Adam, Siobhan

As our van parked, we hopped out, stretched, greeted some of the Crazy Legs and D.A.R.T.'ers, grabbed the Relay t-shirts, and lined up for photo ops.  A few short minutes later it was time for our entire 10:30 wave to start, we cheered as "Stache and Dash" was called over the bullhorn and before I knew it, Laura was off and running with a hoard of teams we would soon be getting to know a little better.  After jumping back in the vans, we drove down the hill to the first exchange zone where we had seen the Designated Drinkers with plenty of time for me to stretch and squeeze in a few strides to loosen up.  I checked-in with the officials at my exchange zone, tried to review the turn-by-turn directions, and do everything I could to be aware as I waited for Laura's arrival.  Naturally, after all my preparation for this event, when it was my time to take the baton (or slap bracelet in this case), I had no idea the experience I would come to embrace.

Seriously about to storm down the mountain...

Like a cannonball, I bolted from the exchange zone as if a -4% grade meant I could cut my 10k time in half.  Trodding down the shoulder in my trail shoes, I thought the brief period on asphalt would only propel me faster, but I started to feel a twinge up my muscles before I found the gravel roads.  The grassy shoulder wasn't stable enough, but I could hardly stand the shock of asphalt on my stiff soles.  I started to think what a crappy choice on my part, but really had to spend more time focusing on my environment as soon as I hit my first gravel road.  It'd been ages since I ran on country roads like this.  All I could think of was "John Freaking Denver" as I plowed down the sharp hills passing one beat up old rusty truck, abandoned farm with a single remaining farm animal, and out of date windmill after another.  I was really coming to appreciate being out in this Deliverance community, when a couple of "fellars" in a little red pick-up started approaching -- the first car I recalled seeing since I left the park.  Despite the camouflage they were both wearing, I could still see both of them as one leaned out of the passenger side looking in my direction.  Slightly alarmed, I slowed my pace as this gent lift some small piece of equipment up to his face as he continues to look my direction and shouts, "Keep on goin'!"  Holy crap! I was frightened to the point of directional confusion... "Do I dodge to the nearest ditch or continue galloping down the hill in hope that these boys can't turn around and come after me quick enough," I thought.  Looking back, I think these fine friendly locals were trying to cheer me on as I just happened to pass them in the middle of whatever game season it may have been.  I bounded onward and and downward contemplating how insane this much downhill was to not be an actual trail race.  How does anyone's muscles sustain this much pounding, exactly what I feared from my first leg. As soon as I thought I couldn't take anymore, the course leveled off.  How pleasant, and then instantly my three seconds of flat turned into sharp incline.  Ouch.  I thought this was supposed to be my intensive downhill leg.  Fortunately, I had spent "more than enough" time studying my elevation charts and just knew this uphill would be over in about a half mile.  Much to my surprise, this was a half mile that had no end in sight.  I can't think of the last run I've done with so many cutbacks UPHILL!  Eventually, my over-exaggerated deceleration ended before I even considered walking, and I caught sight of another racer in the distance.  Although I began with the notion that I would simply try to maintain the same pace as everyone else that was running this leg, I regained my fighting spirit and remembered what I came out here to do -- rack up road kills!!  I imagine that any inkling of a competitive nature would force any other runners to feel the same hunger I had, but all that mattered was that I got mine.  So here, in the last two miles of my first leg, it became clear, just like in any endurance road running event I've competed before, use this time to methodically pick off the weak of heart.  All too easily I caught my first road kill as he was bearing right but I cleverly knew to take the left turn instead.  I looked back over my shoulder and yelled a salutation.  He asked if we should be going left and I reassured him that I was going the correct direction since my team captain was smart enough to create miniature laminated directions.  I exchange greetings with the guy as he follows me down another dirt road, and he introduces himself as "LT."  A third mile down, LT says, "Wait, you sure about this?"  We reexamined the directions and realized I was horribly wrong.  LT and I turned around and headed back to the course.  As we turned back onto the path there were two guys bounding up the hill behind us.  I wanted to surge ahead and my new counterpart seemed to let them hang with  these two guys.  Unfortunately, my surge came a little too soon, and the other two guys from GONADS caught up to me as we climbed.  It was all I could do to hang with these guys, but I just trusted I could draft off them to the end of my leg.  My instinct was that these guys must have come from the next wave of teams, but as we progressed up one more small hill, the two other competitors weakened.  As they slowed, I saw a sign reading "EXCHANGE ZONE" that gave me a little wind beneath my wings.  I no longer had any sense of distance, but I knew this was my time for one final kick.  No matter how much the down hills hurt before, I had one last down hill to kick as hard as possible to get my team back into a competitive position. Naturally I kicked faster than I had run all week, saw all the teams waiting at the exchange zone and Christi ready and waiting.  I slapped the bracelet on her wrist, relieved to have survived my first leg.  The cheers from my van mates were pretty uplifting and I realized that the two guys who I used to draft up the hill weren't from a later wave start, but had just taken a wrong turn as well.  Maybe it was due to navigational ineptitude on our parts, but I managed to get three road kills in my first leg.  Wow, the competitive juices were pumping.  I congratulated LT on sticking out a pretty good leg with hopes to enjoy a couple more legs together (yeah right, as I hoped to pound his team the 12 Monkeys into submission).  Shaking hands with LT, I saw he was on a team with a guy named Billy, Carolina alumnus, that I met during the 2010 Dowd Y Half-marathon.  This was a pretty good sign that there were going to be a surprising number of familiar faces throughout the relay, and as much as it was sure to be a good time, I was determined to get my fair share of road kills to make my team proud.

Stache and Dash Van #1's first solid meal of the day.

If I intend to keep this post short of epic, I'll have to leave the occurrences surrounding other teammates' legs concise in hopes that they will be able to tell their own version.  After the rest of Van #1 proceeded through their legs and Emily handed off to Bjorn, it was time to grab some lunch.  Chad Randolph recommended we head back to West Jefferson after picking up our volunteers from a few legs back.  Back-tracking, we saw the CRC/Try Sports guys waiting at Ashe Park for Ben Hovis.  When we saw Ben, their only competition was nowhere in sight.  Our CRC heroes had their own epic, record-breaking battle against the Asheville Running Collective, told from multiple other perspectives.  We had quick lunch at some decent pizza & pasta joint in West Jefferson by 3 and headed off to our next Transition Point, the Tanger Outlets.  The van got a little turned around, but we still arrived at the Outlets with plenty of time to spare.  This being the 2nd transition zone, we were able to run into so many teams.  As we pulled into the parking lot, I finally found an opportunity to use my silly string and tagged one of the UCRR vans.  We saw the hotties from Crazy Hot Legs with Dalena representing for the same legs as I, the Providence Harriers with Allen also conquering the same legs I would, Team Awesome, again 12 Monkeys, GONADs, D.A.R.T., Ludicrous Speed, a couple versions of UNC teams, and many more but thankfully the ARC and CRC/Try Sports had still not caught up to the earlier waves.  This was also the first exchange zone where people had to be suited up with all the night time safety equipment.  I was fairly confident that the wave of night running would start separating a lot of ill-prepared teams.

As I waited for Laura at our second hand off, I took the time to chat with Mark Ulrich and the Designated Drinkers, before he started up the same Grandfather Mountain leg that I would.  The temperatures had dropped with sundown, and I had to do a lot of warming up, but my temperament was pretty casual as I waited.  Chatting it up with Caleb Boyd and a few others from Kickin' Ultra Asphalt, I heard a very familiar voice walk-up behind me.  It was Ben Hovis himself.  That meant the CRC/Try Sports team would soon be catching up to us after all.  Surely enough, John Compton walked up behind me on the other side, and said, "What's up buddy?" or something of the nature.  I thought, "Ah crap, now, getting passed by Compton is even more imminent."  Thankfully, Laura came out of the dark and slapped the bracelet on me, so I could get out of there before contemplating becoming road kill so soon.  I knew Grandfather Mountain would be a formidable battleground, but I really had no clue how to pace ten miles of constant elevation gain.  I thought half marathon pace would be a nice prayer, but 7:30 pace was only good for the initial flat.  I was alone when I started and didn't think anyone would be coming up behind me anytime soon.  I just stared at the path of light on the ground a few feet in front of me as provided by my headlamp.  I've done my fair share of night runs, but this seemed dark as can be.  I think the biggest difference as I headed up the hill was that there were no city lights for miles around.  It was eerie and magnificent at the same time.  I really appreciated the solitude as I plodded along with one foot in front of the other.  I managed to get one easy road kill early, but unfortunately, it wasn't Mark.  I really hoped that this leg would prove me to be in better shape than Mr. Ulrich, but I knew I couldn't afford to think about much more than maintaining pace as I continued up the perilous road.  Alone in the dark I was passed by a couple of unidentified team vans then suddenly heard a runner behind me in the distance.  I thought it must have been ARC's and CRC's vans that passed me, so this valiant runner approaching me at such a swift pace must be John.  I yelled out, "Compton?"  No response.  I guess it wasn't him after all, as I became easy road kill myself, I just said, "Way to go man."  I looked down at the ground and thought, just maybe I could use this occurrence to try to stick the pace stronger.  A couple minutes later, more footsteps, and I yelled, "Yeah John!"  Bewildered -- still not him -- I offered, "Go get 'em." Thankfully, I don't think this runner knew what I was saying either.  Getting passed by a second guy that wasn't even CRC was almost embarrassing.  I thought I was too competitive to become road kill like this.  I still haven't found a second victim to even this leg out so of course my ego was feeling even more defeated.  I could only compare this feeling to the loneliness that comes in ultra-marathons or my long, slow, solo runs.  I tried to accept the potential depression and stay my course. The grade of the banking turns on the road was becoming pretty annoying to me and at one point I imagined how horrible it would be if this harsh grade forced me to roll down the side of the mountain.  How long would it be before anyone found me?  "Sheesh, gotta find another road kill.  Please God, let me rediscover self-value for the sake of my team.  I really don't want to have to walk this or give in"  This single leg felt like one of the five toughest runs I've ever encountered.  I heard another van coming and thought again, "Dear God please let it be them!" "Woo! Yeah Jamaar!" is the cry I heard from the CRC van.  Prayers answered.  As they came up closer I heard Beigay spurn, "Better hurry, here comes Compton."  It was comically uplifting, as I light-heartedly feigned a 100m sprint.  Even though I knew it couldn't keep it up, it was a nice boost.  Then another van passed right before what sounded like pretty familiar footsteps. I called out, "Nice cadence."  It really was one of my peer heroes.  John encouraged me with a "Good job man.  Keep it up." I thought how there's no way someone with his poetic speed could possibly think what i was performing could be considered a job well done, but I retorted, "Thanks Comp, it's an honor."  Again he encourages with, "You too man," dashing into the dark.  I was so proud thinking how cool it was to be first hand witness to the battle between CRC and ARC.  Surely enough, a couple minutes later ARC's guy came up behind me, but at that point I didn't know what to say and just gave some meaningless cliche of sportsmanship.  It was at this point that I started to wonder just how long I had been climbing up this mountain.  I know I'd been studying my Garmin the last half hour, but it felt like I had endured a half-marathon so far.  Ugh, still another few miles to go.  I shook off most of the negativity and just committed to make sure I didn't walk this mountain under any circumstances.  Eventually I did find two more road kills, neither recognizable competitors, and the mountain leveled off approaching the exchange zone.  I proudly announced, "STACHE AND DASH," repeatedly to ensure Christi would be ready.  I figured at this point my team should have been worried about my safety.  After all, it felt like hours.  I was so spent I didn't know how I could survive another race effort.

After squeezing a couple hours sleep in the driver's seat,  I tried to ready myself for my moderate short third leg.  By the time I changed into my racers, I was feeling ready to unleash every ounce of my soul.  I wanted to make sure I had nothing left in me to give by the end.  For anyone keeping count, I was now 6-4 on the road kill count.  I had a lot of competitive frustration to get out.  I caught up with Where the Hell is Van #2?, and Boom! I was off at a good 10K clip into the foggy early morning.  As soon as I left the exchange zone I realized there a heavy fog cover with lessening visibility.

Nearly inexistent road visibility

I didn't care about the extraneous factors anymore, because I had less than five miles to prove my worth to Stache and Dash.  I felt good cruising up and down the rural roads in this cool weather.  No matter what happened from here, I was going to give it my best.  I had a brief exchange as I casually passed a Master from UNC, and pulled two more road kills before I finished my final leg uphill.  I gave it my all, and still felt like it couldn't be over so soon. I wanted more miles, so with Christi less than a minute ahead, I took off after her to try to cheer her on a little.  I quickly returned to my team full of energy even though I had given myself 22 miles of pain. I was anxious to get on the van and cheer on every other leg of our team.

Naturally, by the time our van was complete, we had passed some beautiful scenes that almost made me miss living in the mountains.  We scarfed a wonderful pancake breakfast  from a church that provided a well staffed transition point, then I crashed in the van.  I awoke to our arrival in the familiar center of downtown Asheville.  We awaited our teammates from Van #2, then wrapped up Stache and Dash's 2011 Blue Ridge Relay with John Fillette gloriously cruising into downtown A-town and across the green with all of us on his heels.  It was an experience that won't soon be forgotten.  As for other insights into what our team endured/ encountered, I'll leave it to other  team members to post their own recaps.

from L to R: Adam, Emily, Siobhan, Rob, Christi, me, Bjorn, Laura, Sarah, Jessica, Anne Marie, John

Wrap it up with a Night Run

Goal: Easy 4-5 miles
Actual: 4.7 @ 8:12/mi. avg.

   Much to my surprise, I was able to convince Christi to join a few of us for yet another run this evening.  After putting the word out, we were able to draw Adam, Rob, and RFYL young athlete Zach Gray into a nice cool summer night trot from Old Bell.  We missed a few others, but I knew it would be a nice night on the greenway no matter who showed.  After planning this run for a week, I discovered my headlamp batteries were dead, and that apparently my backup batteries were just old dead batteries too. Then one-by-one, realized that only Christi and Rob had working headlamps.  A little frustrating, but we weren't to be deterred.  The weather was brisk and the pace was a little swift for what I had in mind, nonetheless we all rolled with it approaching 7:00 pace as we hit the Shue Sea.  Adam, Christi, and I agreed to head back together after the lake while Rob and Zach continued on to finish their nine miler.  On the way back, our trio agreed that our speed was a bit more than desired.  It's always nice to be smart in the midst of our insanity. The ironic part, is that even while being "smart," real runners always prove themselves to be a little foolish.  I have no explanation for it, but Adam and I bounded into fartleks by the slight beam of light coming from Christi's loan headlamp.  A half mile of this nonsense and we were back at Old Bell calling it a night with a short quarter mile of cool down.  I have not been this excited leading into an event since Frosty 50, but not so excited for taking tomorrow off from running.  Good times, great people.  I am truly blessed for opportunities like this.

Speed in the Midst of Endurance

Goal: 10x400m @ 82-86s; 1:30 rest
w/u - 17:09; c/d - 14:57
Actual: 83, 83, 77, 81, 70, 80, 80, 80, 79, 68

  Christi and I headed back over to JCSU for a Tuesday evening speed workout on the track.  It was a great way to get my legs spinning one last time before the relay. We met up with Jessica, Fillette, and Siobhan and started out nice and easy.  It felt good drafting off John half the time around the track, but on our fifth interval I knew I had to put in some work before the water break.

   John was kind enough to let me kick it pretty strong after the first 100.  I felt re-energized after the water break, but still wanted John to do all the work for me.  Looking back, it was probably a little selfish to spend so much time just drafting off him knowing he was that much faster than me, but at least I was exceptionally consistent the first four intervals after water break.  Once again, like every other speed workout, I just had to kick as strong as possible for my final interval.  JF let me take off early, but I could feel him breathing down my back for 300 meters.  The legs burned a little, but I just knew I could keep it together.  The girls were all very strong and consistent as well, but I don't know if I could have executed the workout so well without John being such a great coach-leader.

   Getting real speedwork completed in the midst of a three-a-day, I really feel like I will be in good shape for Hinson Lake 24 Hour.  Glad to get in work with my teammates, I rushed home with hopes to stretch it out enough for the night run.