First things first: why run around 34 miles in the rain and snow? Well, part
of it's the fun, my stubbornness, and the challenge of doing it. It's also
great to be able to tell people you've run 35 (or fifty) miles and then
watch their expression! But the key thing about ultras (or long triathlons)

is the part of the race when you get to test yourself: at some point you're

going to feel bad.... sometimes really bad. Bad like the big blue monster has just
swallowed your legs and you still have miles left to go. At that point you
have to ask yourself why the devil are you out there, and what you are going
to do to get further down the road -- to the finish line? That's where the
event really starts!

At 3 in the morning on Saturday at the Holiday Lakes State Forest, a
freezing rain started. I was walking around the 4H center, having been
unable to get much sleep. In what seemed like a short time later we were
lining-up at the start, standing at attention for the national anthem,
listening to a heartfelt prayer, and then heading out into the darkness at
6:30 in the morning. The freezing rain continued unabated, and the grumbling
among runners all centered around what to wear to stay warm in the wet cold.

The course winds around the lake on a single-track path that was rutted,
root-filled, and muddy. Since it was absolutely dark at the start, I was
happy to have my headlamp on to shed light on the trail. Unfortunately, with
over 200 fellow runners, the muddy start was going to have a larger impact
than I'd have liked! No trail survives that kind of pounding without
becoming slick really fast.

The run turned away from the lake and headed up, up, and up. Over 90% of
this run was on trails and fire-breaks, so thick red Virginia clay-mud
became my constant companion. We still had a cold rain by the time the sun
rose and I hit the first checkpoint at mile 3.2. As I ran onward to the next
checkpoint (around mile 7) the rain started to turn to snow. The beauty of
the falling snow in the pine forest was a great counter-balance to my
increasingly labored breathing -- one of the things I had to get used to in
running ultras is that even on a short course (50k) with over 200 starting
runners, you spend much of the time on the trail alone.

By the time I'd hit mile 15 the snow was falling hard - there was over an
inch on the ground and the evening's rain had made the ground soft and
muddy, but as I ran down the path I saw the lake and knew that I was only a
few miles away from the turn-around. Unfortunately, going down one hill I
hit a slick mud trough all wrong..... falling and sliding about 10 yards
down the steep path. Shaken and somewhat mud-covered I picked myself up and
headed onward. I had been feeling pretty good up to that point, but the fall
took some of the wind out of my sails

The "turn-around" was the same location as the start -- a great opportunity
for me to change my wet clothes and take on some badly needed fuel for the
rest of the race. I took almost 10 minutes at the turn-around to get myself
resettled (which is a long time) but as I trotted back onto the course for
the long return I had dry gloves and could feel my fingers again! Hooray -

The land around Appomattox is gently rolling and the Piedmont hills there
aren't too bad. Nevertheless, by the time I had hit mile 23, I knew that the
big blue monster was stalking me. Sooner or later I'd have to face him on
the trail.... Knowing that, I resolved to ignore the burning in my legs and
just focus on putting one foot in front of the other and just making it to
the next checkpoint, where hopefully I could take on some warm soup, some
sports drink, and part of a peanut-butter and jelly sandwich. It was a solid
strategy until about mile 27 - when the wheels fell off. I was running away
from the monster - but he'd caught me. Now the run really started.

When you feel poorly, are freezing and wet, and still have at least 6 (maybe
7) miles to go you have to resolve yourself to keep moving toward the
finish. I knew that every step was taking me closer to warmth and a good
meal, so I trudged along through the mud. My pace and my resolution came and
went as I trotted along, but I was making forward progress. As I
transitioned from running to trotting I knew that I wouldn't get off the
course any faster by going slower. And so I kept going.

The fortunate thing in the course is that the last several miles of the
course are lots of downhill running. Although my legs felt like jelly, it
was nice to be able to run downhill through the mud. I was thankful for the
small favor of being within 3 miles of the finish (having past the last
checkpoint) and then I was in sight of the lake. Up and down, around the
winding route and through the mud again to the last hill - then a furious
steep downhill on pavement (ouch!) for the last quarter mile to the finish!

My time this year was 5:50. My previous finish was 5:35, so I didn't feel
bad (the smart 10 minute break to get warm and the difficulty of the mud
easily accounted for the 2 different times). This year I had an average pace
of 10 minute miles (depending on the actual distance of the event), which I
think is ok for the distance. I felt pretty good at the finish - I could
have gone another 15+ miles if this had been a 50 miler. A good start to this

season.... so we'll see!

Stuart Schwark