May 18, 2024 - This event is renowned for its three climbs of 3000 feet, each in three vertical miles of severely technical, but beautiful terrain reaching up into a sub-alpine ecosystem above 6000 feet in elevation. I had previously raced here in the event's inaugural year, 2015, in a time of 9:34... so I was aiming to approach that finish time once again, given I am well trained for climbing at present, albeit older, and feeling good... but the course changed... got MUCH tougher... and a thousand feet of climbing for mile after mile never gets easier!

After the 0430 bus ride to the start of this point-to-point course, we headed out at around 0520, climbing up a road a ways to thin out the field of over 200 before hitting single track trail. I had to walk most of the road. I just couldn't get any giddy-up whatsoever. After I ducked into the dark woods for an urgent potty break soon after hitting the trail, I emerged renewed to find only a couple bobbing headlamps behind me. Starting last doesn't bother me, so I turned to vertical hiking and readily moved up the field a ways before catching up to the general queue. Once in queue there was nothing to do but be patient until we crested the summit and the trail turned down.

Through the day I was pretty much back and forth with the same twenty people or so, so there was lots of time moving slowly to exchange names and stories and get to know folks. I even bumped into runners I haven't seen in years, inevitable I guess for as long as I have been at this.

I turned up the tempo on the run down to the first aid station at about 7.5 miles, getting into my "dances with rocks" gear, flying past other runners at a wholesale rate. I was feeling good with warmed up legs that weren't tired, ready to have a good day, when a fairly large limb somehow sprung up between my churning legs and stopped me hard, slamming me into the cold, hard, rocky ground. The worst falls are the ones that stop you suddenly when you are really moving downhill. My right knee took the brunt of it as I ended on my back with a sore right shoulder as well. I layed there a few moments in a shocking amount of sharp pain before assessing what the result was, assuring people I was alright before I really took a look.

Standing up as quickly as I could, I saw my knee was bloody, but nothing seemed broken and all those precious ligaments seemed to still work without pain. But the first few steps were really uncomfortable for knee, hip, shoulders, and neck. All I could do was slow down to a deliberate shuffle and evaluate my situation over the next half mile to the aid station. It hurt, but nothing seemed egregious, so I didn't waste time, turning and burning from the aid station, stopping to rinse off the dirt from my legs to get a better look before assaulting the second 3000-foot climb.

So, what do you do? I hurt considerably, but I came there to run and not step aside with some sad story. I have been there before. It boils down to not thinking about it, resolving to carry on and bear the consequences. Two days after the event, I still cannot bend my right knee. It may only be severely bruised; hopefully I can come back after a brief healing reprieve!

The balance of the race - most of thirty miles - I just put my head down and did what I do best. Running more deliberately, respecting the pain and loss of range of motion, and confidence... I diverted my attention into far more social exchanges than normal. Enjoying conversation, I set about to make the best of the day - at least socially. Back and forth with a woman named Rebecca all day, I hung with her in the later miles when she was in trouble with nausea, kidney and chest pains. After everything else, my own or the health of another runner takes precedence over clock time, or even finishing. Offering encouragement and counsel, we stayed together until she finally could go no further, shy of the finish. Securing her a ride from a volunteer back to meet her father, I lollygagged onto the finish - arriving almost last - with most of the field already packed up and gone, including Rebecca. With little to hang around for I thanked and bid adieu to RD's Sean and Deanna and drove my stinky sore body the three hours it took to reach home, ending another great story with a hot shower, four fingers of bourbon, and a reasonable night of sleep.

It was a good day to race - perhaps the best an aging, seasoned veteran like myself can hope for on such a hard course. The weather held off completely until the race was over before immediately dumping a lot of rain on the journey home. I'm still smiling, hoping Rebecca and the other members of my tribe are embracing their hobbles and healing in time for the next one of these great adventures in personal heroism.