West Virginia Mountain Trail Runners

June of 2006 was the last time I actually ran anything past 50 miles (Laurel Highlands). I had been dealing with an unidentifiable injury in the lower left quarter of my back. It would be aggravated by running thus the respite from running longer distances. A combination of a fairly successful 50K last October and the doctor’s “okay” prompted me to begin seeking out a longer distance to race (not to mention I was beginning to feel like a huge slug). In the early spring I saw a new race was being run in Beverly, West Virginia: The  Cheat Mountain Moonshine Madness 50 Mile. Being a huge fan of  West Virginia and her lovely, rugged mountains, the race piqued my interest; as well as did the start time of the race – 9 PM on Friday, August 22nd. The invitation -to come and run through the night- and the distance of 50 miles didn’t seem so threatening in early spring. In fact, thoughts of: This will be a “fun” adventure and I have plenty of time to train, and it will be decent not to have to run through the heat of the day etc. filled my mind. These thoughts were replaced gradually as August 22nd came closer and were completely overtaken on the trip down to the wild and wonderful state in the afternoon of the twenty-second of August. Thoughts of – I don’t think I trained enough, Run through the night? (Sleep?) When should I eat my last meal? What am I doing? What was I thinking? etc. etc.
These thoughts brought us into Davis, West Virginia. The place we stopped to eat around 4 PM, Sirani’s – an awesome Italian, pizza, hoagie kind of place. I had the traditional pasta type meal – hoping that which I ate would digest reasonably well by 9 o’clock. I wanted to eat more and eat pizza, and eat dessert – but thankfully I resisted the temptation. We made our way to Elkins and then a few more miles south to the race headquarters – a 4H camp outside of Beverly, West Virginia. A beautiful setting, blue sky, sunshine, and the smell of sweet, fresh cut hay filled the air. Ridges and mountains loomed around this serene and peaceful place as runners, family, friends, and race workers milled about as the anticipation, nervousness, and pre-race jitters built as time drew closer to 9 PM. 8 o’clock brought our pre-race talk regarding aid stations, course markings, and crew directives. The Star Spangled Banner and a prayer by the race director sent us forth off into the darkness.

The first 12 miles or so were all on state forest roads – which primarily climbed up Cheat Mountain. Most folks were cautious during this stage of the race – being sure not to let adrenaline and excitement cause anyone to sprint out too fast. Sounds of feet hitting the gravel road and headlights bobbling about soon became spread out as the 12 miles of state forest road dispersed the entrants by the time you entered the trail sections of the race. Let me introduce the trails to you this way - In discussion after the race, my sister had mentioned as she sat with my wife and parents at aid station 4/6 (23 and 33 miles) that many people came in and mentioned how “beautiful” the trails were! She thought this was rather humorous do to the lack of visibility in the dark to actually see the beauty of the trails and surrounding mountains and forest. My translation of these comments by runners who said the trails are beautiful is this: “I am feigning bravery here, you see – I’m terribly shaken by the rather technical nature of these trails which are strewn with roots, rocks, and ankle deep black muck holes that want to suck the shoes off my feet when I step in them. I’m also rather alarmed by the spooky, black darkness of
the trails due to the multitude of big and little spruce trees that are reaching out and hugging the trails so tightly that they are like prickly fingers grabbing on to you as you brush by the hundreds of them. Not to mention, the twisty, turny, and gnarly nature of these trails overall rather frighten me because they could cause me to turn my ankle, fall, break bones, or smash my face or head should I fall and I’m miles away from help!” Please don’t get me wrong here – the part I love about ultra running is technical and remote trials. And you could truly love (or should I say appreciate) that part of these trails in this race. I also tend to do better on trails then I do on other surfaces – and I did like the trail sections of this race – but… for the most part, they were pretty technical for night time running! No complaints on my end about them – but to say they were beautiful while running on them at midnight?

As in most ultra’s, moments of madness/temporary insanity do set in – mine came about half way through the race at aid station 4 - 23 point some miles – it’s where I first met my family. I told them things they heard me say before – What am I doing? I’m an idiot – Remind me not do this again – This is stupid… and then, “See you a little later” (as I shuffled back off into the darkness). Two or three more trail sections were connected by road segments. The second to last trail section was probably the “nicest”/easiest or least technical of the other trails. This part of trail led into aid station 5 where I changed batteries, had a little soup and a piece of grilled cheese. I might mention here that the race director, workers, aid stations and everything about the race from the headquarters and meals were excellent. Things were run very well considering this was the first time this race ever took place (If anything was out of order, I hadn’t noticed). It was at aid station 5 that one of the ladies there reached out and touched my shoulder as I was heading out and said, “You’re doing a good job” – something so simple was so powerful at that time in the dark, early morning hours on a mountain in West Virginia.

After aid station 5 we had a state forest road take us to another trail section and another piece of gravel road took us into aid station 6 (which is the same aid station as number 4). It’s here again that I met my family (which also has to suffer through waiting up through the dark and chilly night) – this time the “madness” that I experienced earlier settled into a simple acceptance of I have to pound my quads up and down state forest roads for another 17 miles. The question now is simply how fast am I going to get it done? I bided them goodbye and see you in 17 miles as my wife handed me a ham and swiss sandwich (something I found that works for my stomach) which I nibbled on slowly over the next few hundred yards of state forest road. I was able to run at times with my light off on some of these roads due to the illuminating moonlight. Goals of making it in between 8 to 9 hours turned into beating the 10 hour mark. Two more aid stations and the finish were ahead. The second to last aid station came up time wise as expected. The last aid station was a little over 7 miles away – and these seven miles seemed like 12 as I ran towards the dawn under a starlit sky.

The last four miles or so, I really began to open it up – a freshness sprung into my legs as the sky began to brighten with pre-dawn light. The conversations and support that me and several other runners gave each other through different times of the night filled my mind as did the support from aid station workers and my family and the thought of within a half hour I’ll be at the finish fueled my tank. The rush and exhilaration one gets crossing the finish line after a hard fought out battle filled me from the top of my head to the tip of my toes. Experiencing this with my family, smiles, laughter, joy, and an awesome sense of accomplishment makes all the moments of “madness” worth the while. In addition, I feel by doing this it is an outward sign of active worship to my Lord God that he has given me the ability and has allowed me to accomplish this task – I give him all glory and thank him for his marvelous blessings which he has bestowed upon me and my family!Go the Distance

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