The Mountain Masochist 50 Miler - It Hurts So Good

Hamilton Tyler

The Mountain Masochist 50 miler was held on October 15, 2005 in the mountains west and north of Lynchburg, Virginia.  The race is put on by accomplished ultrarunner David Horton who set the speed record for running the 2,666 mile Pacific Crest Trail this summer.  Friday night before the race found me at the prerace dinner at the high school meeting ultrarunners from all over the east coast and a few from the Midwest.  It was nice to talk to some runners who had run the race before to get an idea of just what I would experience the next day.

My Saturday morning wake up call came at 3:45 a.m.  I quickly downed a bagel and banana in my hotel room and went over my checklist for the fourteenth time before jumping in my car to drive to the high school to catch the buses to the start.  The buses left at 5:00 a.m. sharp and anyone not present would be left so I wanted to be sure I got there early because I had no idea how to get to the start.  The runners crammed on the school buses for the 45 minute ride to the start at the James River Visitors Center on the Blue Ridge Parkway west of Lynchburg.  I tried to close my eyes and rest, but sleep would not come.

I arrived at the starting area at 5:45 a.m. and milled around until everyone assembled in the road at 6:25 a.m.  It was still pitch dark when someone sang the Star Spangled Banner.  At 6:30 a.m. promptly I was off.  It was in the low 50s at the start so I wore a throwaway long sleeve shirt and gloves.  The first 3 miles were an out and back on the Blue Ridge Parkway that returned to the starting area where I dumped the shirt and gloves in a trash can when I heated up.  I was now wearing a short sleeve technical shirt.

The first 5.7 miles are on road, but the rest of the race is on mountainous dirt and jeep roads with a few miles of single track trail thrown in for good measure.  The total climb is 9,000 feet with 7,000 feet of descent as this is a point to point race.  All mileages mentioned are the “official” distances provided by the race director who is renown for “Horton miles.”  “Horton miles” are a unique measure of distance that are slightly longer than regular miles which is why this race is actually about 54 miles instead of the billed 50 miles. 

Shortly after passing the starting area I cross the majestic James River just as it is beginning to get light.  The river is calm and moving slowly below me as I cross the bridge and the dawn reveals the bucolic mountains and surrounding countryside.  It is going to be a beautiful day for running, albeit perhaps a bit hot for my liking.  At about mile 5 I encounter the first significant climb.  I slow to walk a little in steepest section, but remember that this is the last pavement until the finish, so I pick it up and start running again.  I reach the aid station at the end of the road section in 1 hour and 3 minutes.

I fill up my bottles with Conquest and water, pop a Succeed pill and head up the trail.  The next section of 2.7 miles is almost all climb.  I walk a fair amount because I am a little weary of the many mountain climbs in the race.  All summer I had been planning to do lots of hill work and get out to the mountains for some big climbs to prepare for this race.  I did make it out to the Appalachian Trail in Maryland for some long runs which had some good climbs, but other than that I did not do much hill work or mountain climbs.  Conserving my legs was an important part of my race plan for the day 

Once at the top of the hill, what else could I go but go down.  Thus began the relentless up and down that would come to punctuate the day.  There was very little flat running on the course.  I was either going up or down a mountain almost all of the rest of the way.  One disturbing development was a small rip in one of my Montrail Masai shoes along the upper as it joins the sole.  I had another pair in my drop bag, but I would not reach it until the halfway point.  I tried to put it out of my mind but it still bothered me.  At the 3^rd aid station I started to eat, downing half a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

I caught up with a couple of runners I know and met some others during the next few sections and had some good conversation which makes the miles go easier.  The dirt and jeep roads were generally in pretty good shape although they were pretty rocky and you had to watch your footing on the downhills.  Although it was a relief to reach the top of a mountain, the run on the downside pounded the quads relentlessly.

After a long downhill portion from about mile 17.5 to 22, my legs were really beginning to feel beat up.  It had taken me 4 hours and 19 minutes to run 22 miles (or more I am guessing).  By this point I knew my original pie in the sky goal of 10 hours was long gone.  Heck, I was only 35 minutes ahead of the cutoff pace of 12 hours according to the sign at the aid station. 

The next 7 miles were uphill to the top of Buck Mountain for a gain of around 2,600 feet, most of it in the last 2.5 miles.  I was doing a pretty good job hydrating and the Conquest was going down well, but my calves were aching from all the climbing.  I reached the halfway point at mile 26.9 in 5 hours 24 minutes, just before noon.  I was not feeling too great and I was more than a little concerned that I might not make the next time cutoff.  My shoe was beginning to tear so I found some duct tape at the aid station and gave it a few wraps and hoped it would hold.  I ate more than usual at this aid station because I knew the worst of the climbing was next.

I started out of the aid station and immediately began powerwalking the steep climb.  After a few minutes I encountered two seeded runners (the fast guys with the single digit race numbers) walking the other direction on the trail, obviously having dropped from the race.  The climb just went on and on. Every time I thought I was about to crest Buck Mountain I went around a bend and was treated to another steep climb.  After about 20 minutes I tried to jog just to use some different muscles and made it a couple of minutes before walking again.  After about 15 more minutes I could hear the strains of the theme from Rocky drifting across the mountain.  I thought I must be near the top, but the sound was traveling far and I had about another 10 minutes.  I finally reached the top of Buck Mountain after about 45 minutes for the 2.6 mile climb, a very slow pace indeed.  The aid station volunteer checking me in asked me if I am felt all right since he thought I was limping.  He tried to get me to take some ibrupropan, but I had recently taken some and too much might shut my kidneys down.  I don’t think I was limping at all, my legs just hurt like heck from the climb since I am such a flatlander.  I had been running for 6 hours and 12 minutes.

The climb is rewarded with a downhill and then another steep but much shorter climb.  At the top of this climb, which I think is Mount Pompay, I am amazed to find the top of the mountain has a very large flat section where there is a fenced pasture.  I slow as I take in the great views of the surrounding mountains a few of which are ominously higher.

In short order I am at the “loop,” a 5 mile section of single track tail at the 33 mile mark that I have heard is tough.  I spy runners coming out of the loop to the same aid station and envy them since they are an hour closer to finishing.  My legs are really heavy and moving much slower than 7 hours ago.  The first mile of the loop may have been the most pleasant mile of the entire day.  The relatively flat trail was made soft by moss with little to no rocks.  I drift along at a decent pace and wonder if someone was pulling my leg about the difficulty of this section.

As good as the first mile of the loop was, the next 3 miles are equally horrendous.  The trail narrows and is extremely rocky with a couple of slippery stream crossings.  I am afraid to run for fear of a fall on the rocks which would certainly lead to something being broken.  I try to hike at a fast pace, but a couple of runners pass me.  There are several trees down over the trail which I have to stop and climb over.  At the end of a steep uphill the trail tops out at 4,200 feet at the top of the mountain.  It is downhill to the aid station.  I pick it up but still don’t feel great and am pleasantly surprised when I hear the voices of the aid station volunteers after just over one hour on the loop.

At the end of the loop I am at mile 38.6 in 8 hours and 7 minutes.  I look to the aid station table food and drink to see what looks good.  I am tired of PBJs, but I spy a Twinkie and some Coke.  It hits me - I need sugar!  I down them both, fill up my bottles and take off on a nice downhill where I catch some of the runners who passed me in the loop, one of which is trying to work out some cramps.  This is probably the hottest part of the day and the dirt road is exposed to the sun.  I start to feel better and am thrilled when I reach the next aid station at mile 41.5 at 8 hours and 42 minutes.  I am going to finish this thing after all!

After another mile and a half of gentle climb I enter a long section of single track which at first is not very runnable.  I get to a very steep section where there are 3 runners moving very slowly.  After a couple of minutes of conversation they step aside to let me pass and I continue my powerwalk upward.  I crest the top which is at about 4,100 feet and take off.  I am feeling better and better as I catch a couple of runners on the downhill section of the trail.

I pull into the last aid station at Porter’s Ridge at mile 47.1 in 9 hours and 58 minutes.  I ask the aid station workers if it is really just 2.9 miles to the finish and am met with a deafening silence.  I realize that these last miles will be “Horton” miles, but hope to break 10 hours and 30 minutes anyway since it is all downhill to the finish.  I take off just as several runners come into the aid station.  The service road down the hill is in pretty good shape, but has a fair amount of rock and a few small streams crossing it.  I push it as fast as I safely can.  My mind starts to think about the finish and I stumble. I start repeating the word “concentrate” every 10 seconds to make sure I watch where I am going.  I think I am flying, but probably only running between 8 and 9 minute miles.  I pass a couple of runners and finally reach the “1 mile to go” sign and shortly after that the paved road.  I turn a corner and spy the finish banner in the small town of Montebello, a very welcome site. 

I cross the finish line in 10 hours and 34 minutes.  It is just after 5:00 p.m. and I have been on the move since 6:30 a.m. without so much as sitting down.  The last 2.9 miles was more like 4 miles since it took me 36 minutes.  David Horton shakes my hand and welcomes me to the finish line, as he does with every runner who finishes that day.  I am happy with the relatively strong finish. 

My time places me in 108^th place out of 251 starters and 198 finishers.  There is a higher than normal attrition rate which is probably due to the heat of the day.  I am a little surprised at how far down I finished in the field, but this is probably the strongest field of runners in an ultra I have run.  I strongly recommend this race to anyone looking for a very challenging mountainous 50 miler.  It is extremely well run and has some of the best aid stations I have seen at an ultra as well as dinners both prerace and postrace.  

My legs are cooked after 54 miles of climbing and descending the beautiful mountains of Virginia, but it is a good kind of pain - the pain of accomplishment - a pain that I will get to enjoy for the next few days.  I have never hurt so good