Promise Land 50K

Promise Land 50K - 2001

Article by Keith Dunn

I needed this race.

This had not been a good spring. A combination of an incredible work schedule and knee problems resulted in my training suffering all winter, and it showed. In February I embarrassed myself by timing out of Holiday Lake (a race I easily finished two years ago as my first ultra); in March I completed the HAT Run almost a half hour slower than I did last year; and in early April I dnf’ed Bull Run on a day during which I just could not get it together. It was time for something positive.

Dr. George Wortley, along with Mike Sandlin and David Horton, had the perfect prescription.

I had only been to Bedford one other time, to run Terrapin Mountain (whatever happened to that nice little race?), and had forgotten how beautiful it is. The weather Friday evening was perfect and I, along with most of the other runners, enjoyed a very pleasant night camping at the Promise Land camp.

Saturday morning we were awakened all too early by Dr. Horton yelling at us to wake up (what -- no butchered Star Spangled Banner???) and I was off in search of caffeine. David had warned me the evening before that there would be no coffee that morning, and had graciously given me a couple caffeine tabs he had left over from his amazing Barkley finish. I was able to find some instant coffee, however, and life was good. (Note to course designers: start the race near a Starbucks for us city boys.)

Then we were off. The first two and a half miles were on a gravel uphill, which was ok, but all I could think of was facing that same road going down after 29 miles. (Well, I also thought what am I doing out here at 5:30 when I could be in bed, but then, I’m sort of a slug.) The weather was ideal and I could sense that this was going to be a great day. Moving at my usual speed, I had plenty of time to look around and take in the sights, and I loved it – the creeks, the trees, the mountains in the background – oh, wait – I have to climb those things?

I reached the top of Onion Mountain and began a beautiful downhill that was very runable. Talking with a group of runners, someone pointed out that the guy in the green shirt in front of us designed the course. A few minutes later I was beside Dr. George Wortley, introduced myself, and together we ran for the rest of the day.

Each race seems to have its own defining characteristics; with this one, it’s the beauty of the course and the tough uphills. Running with George was a treat because, not only was I able to enjoy his wonderful company all day, but I also could focus my attention on the scenery around me rather than on where I was going. I just let him lead and point out all the highlights around us. (That’s Terrapin Mountain? I’ve run up that!) That strategy worked really well until one point late in the race, when we were totally engrossed in our conversation and nearly missed a turn! As George quickly corrected our path, we looked at each other and laughed. “That would have been embarrassing!”

As we made the climb up Apple Orchard Mountain in preparation for our descent down to White Tail, George kept reminding me that the hard part of the course was yet to come. Eventually we reached the sixth aid station and began our last 3 mile climb. At first it was not at all bad, but I was warned that it was going to get tough. And so it did. About a mile into the climb it started going up sharply, and I suddenly understood why George had budgeted two hours to work through this section. This is the most technically difficult part of the course, but when you get to the waterfall it is so spectacularly beautiful that you do not notice the pain. I do remember thinking how glad I was to be climbing this section when it was dry, rather than in a slick rain. George told me they had thought of requiring runners to stop and spend one minute on the bench looking at the scenery, but decided against it. We talked about stopping anyway, but by the time we actually got to the waterfall I think we both just wanted to be done with that section, so after a brief stop we pressed on. A few minutes later we stopped to refill our water bottles from the creek, having previously shared our Conquest and water with another runner who was struggling a bit, and at the same time doused our shirts in the cold water. It felt good and gave us a nice shot of energy. Along the way up I joked that my mom, who always worries about me doing these things, would be happy knowing I was running with a doctor; George responded that he was equally happy to be running with a lawyer who would be by his side when he faced the other runners at the end of the race. Not to worry, George, we all loved it!

Finally, we made it to the top and paused at the aid station for a few minutes to recover a bit. The last five miles were downhill, but for me that’s often tougher than uphill. We got back onto the trail and very quickly the downhill became steep. George took off; when I tried to keep up my knee just screamed with pain. I stopped, knocked down a bunch of ibuprofen, and began to walk down. Later on the decline became more gradual and I was able to start running again, catching up with George on the gravel road and running with him to the finish.

Not enough can be said for this course. While we were running together I must have told George a dozen times he had created an instant classic, the toughest 50K I’d ever seen and perhaps the most beautiful course at any distance. Like all Horton races, the event was extremely well organized, the aid stations were well stocked and well spaced, and the volunteers were wonderful. I have always made it a point to thank every person I can find who has helped in any way with a race, and have no tolerance for those runners who take the volunteers for granted. So, to any of you volunteers I may have missed: thank you for being there.

Thank you, Dr. Horton, for putting on what is an instant classic.

And thanks especially Dr. Wortley for your companionship during the run and for your work in designing this perfect course. It is just what I needed on that day.

Peace, Keith.