HS 40M 2006 – NATHAN ECHOLS

There are races that you enjoy from the start to the finish. There are days that you feel good for the entire length of the race, and then there are races that are best enjoyed after several days of reflection. The Highlands Sky 40 Mile Trail Race falls into the second category. It is a tough course that will test your physical and mental endurance During longer races, I usually experience an extended period of “trail elation” where I feel great. The feeling of “I could run all day” hit me at the top of the first climb where the trail opens to the sky. That lasted about two minutes. Before I get into that however, let me back up a bit.

I signed up for the Highlands Sky way back in late 2005. My friend, Thom Cole, had told me about it, and the race looked terrific. The two of us had recruited two other local hikers/runners for this event. The four of us drove down from the NY/NJ metro area on Friday morning. Coming through the mountains of western Maryland and then into West Virginia, we knew this would be fun. In our group was Lisa Madden, an experienced mountaineer and about the toughest person I know. What she lacks in pure running talent, she more than makes up for in enthusiasm and grit. She started trail racing last September, and she’s already completed 3 50K’s and 2 trail marathons. Also, Donna Graham-Finan was with us. Her first ultra was HAT in March, and she’s a very good runner. Tall and thin, she has the “look” of an endurance runner.

Thom and I had run our first 50 mile race in May. The Ice Age 50 in Wisconsin would be quite a contrast to this event, This would be my ninth marathon or ultra this year, and my 27th overall since I started racing in June of 2004.

Race morning broke clear and cool. A good day to run. I let the fast guys and the young kids go ahead. I hung back around 15th place knowing I would see a lot of these speedsters later. It was going to be a hot hot day, and the price for going out too hard was going to be costly. I have blown up at too many marathons and ultras to charge out at a sub-7 pace.

The first major climb was peaceful and enjoyable, except for the nettle patches. We had hiked this section on Friday afternoon, so we knew what to expect. I ran/hiked up the hill to the first overlook where it was cool and beautiful. It was time to start really running hard, as I felt great. The long climb was over. Now, I could extend my stride and pickup the pace. Then, I saw the two trillion white rocks, any one of which could roll your ankle and end your day. Oh well, my thin 6’4″ frame was going to have to pick my way through the rocks. I kept a group of three runners in sight as I crabbed my way through the stone mine field. I kept expecting hordes of runners to pass me by, but no one did.

When we hit the steep downhill after Aid Station 2, a runner came flying up behind me. It was Greg Zaruba, who I had met at Seneca Creek 50K in February and HAT 50K in March. He passed me at an impossibly fast clip, moving at about my 5K pace, and saying over his shoulder how much he liked the downhills. My quads would have exploded, and my head would have served as a permanent planter if I tried to match his speed.

On the subsequent uphill, I began to pass several runners. I caught back up with Greg and Chris Palladino. We chatted for a while on the climb up. Greg started to pull away again at the top as I decided to back off the pace and conserve my energy. I felt like I was starting to tire way too early in the race. Better to slow down now, than blow up later.

I hit the mid-point and the drop bag Aid Station in 12th place. I changed socks to a thinner pair hoping to alleviate some blister pain on the right big toe. When I fell to the grass to replenish my Gu supply and Succeed pills, I noticed a can of Red Bull in my bag. I hadn’t drank it prior to the race like I had planned. Sweet nectar from the gods could not have tasted better. I hopped up ready to go, and then I noticed the dirt road stretching on to eternity. I asked a volunteer, ” We have to run up that crap?” To which she replied curtly, ” Just start running”. I laughed and moved out.

I could see moving specks in the distance which got closer and closer as the Red Bull pumped through my body. I caught up to Kevin Lane, a 21 year old who amazed me with his guts and demeanor for such a young guy running an ultra. I couldn’t imagine attempting such a feat at 21!! I passed another runner and then caught back up to Chris Palladino, who was suffering from an upset stomach. I could tell what a competitor he was, but he was hurting.

We finally finished the long dirt road, and it was getting really hot. I was hoping to get back into the woods with some tree cover, but the oven effect was just starting. As I pulled out of that Aid Station, Chris came in and told me to start running as he was going to be coming after me. I know there were too many miles remaining to start racing now. It was quickly becoming a survival contest, not a race.

That long 5.8 mile section contained the prettiest scenery of the day. Beautiful fields, giant rock sculptures, far reaching vistas. However, the openness of the course was making it too hot. I began to catch several runners who were slowing, cramping, and fighting the elements. I kept repeating a Steve Pre quote to myself. ” I don’t race to see who’s the fastest, I race to see who has the most guts” I felt that I was kidding myself with this mantra, but it was working. When I finally reached that Aid Station on top of the hill, I was in 5th.

The last 8 miles were a mix of “heaven and hell”, as I started to call it. Heavenlike scenery blended with the awful ski slope downhill; cool shaded dirt road with the hot open asphalt; the wonderful people at the Aid Stations with the last isolated miles of self doubt.

I caught sight of the 4th place runner, but never caught up to him. The Steve Pre quote of having the most guts was replaced by a whimpering “Mommy” as I ran/walked the access road of Canaan Valley. The last short trail section revived me enough to finish in 7:23:24 and in 5th place.

Greg Zaruba had finished in 3rd. He ran a great race and is primed for a great run at the VT100 this July. Chris finished two places behind me. Without his stomach issues, he would have beaten me easily.

I sat down and waited for my friends to finish as I downed Pepsi after Pepsi. I was elated to see Lisa and Thom finish together. Lisa was the 3rd female. Superwoman! Donna was right behind, finishing 30th overall.

What a terrific race, especially after a couple of days of recovery. I’d like to thank all the volunteers and the race director for such a memorable day and event.

HS 40M 2006 – Marianna Inslee

So, why, you ask, did I decide to run an Ultra? Well, I would like to say it was part of my master plan all along, but it is more accurate to say, the Highlands Sky 40 mile race chose me as opposed to me choosing the Highlands Sky 40. Yes, once I started running marathons, I planned to run an ultra, but I did not plan to run one this year. Then back in January while looking around for a 5K race I happened on the Charlottesville Running Company 5K trail race. Well, always the adventurous type, I said, why not. How hard could it be and it just might be fun. I soon found out that trail running is a lot different than running roads and even though I posted my slowest 5K time ever (30+) I had an absolute blast. To make it even more interesting, the 5K was part of a race series called the Great Eastern Trail Run Series. If you haven’t already realized where I am going with this, the Highland Sky 40 mile race is one of 12 races in the series. Now I did not have to run this race to qualify for end year awards, but after reading about the race on the race website, the race kept talking to me. Next thing I know, I’d signed up! Training for the race was basically two training runs in Sherando Lake Park, plus a CRC 10K, the Bel Monte 25K trail race as well as a couple of 10 mile “tame/groomed” trail races in Northern Va as part of the Backyard Burn series. I had originally planned on doing another training run in the mountains, but instead ended up running another road marathon in Madison, WI.

The Highlands Sky 40 mile race is a point to point race finishing at the Canaan Valley Ski Resort. The race elevation map showed a 2,600 ft climb and 1,500 ft descent in the first 12 miles of the race, followed by another 1,000 ft climb and then a lot of roll from mile 15 – 34, a steep 700 ft decent at mile 35 and the last 4 miles flat. Total climbing 5,739 ft, total descending 5,121 ft. Sounds like fun? Right?

Saturday morning was perfect, with temperatures in the 50’s with some wet high humidity. I actually was a bit cold for the first couple of miles. The first two miles were on the road and the first aid station was at mile 2.2. After the aid station we headed into the woods and started the 2,600 ft ascent. It was lovely. Lots of small streams and waterfalls crisscrossed the trail. The weather was still cool, and great conversation with a pack of fellow runners made that major climb go by rather fast. Once at the top of the mountain the trail opened up and we were running through rocking trails open to the sky. At this time the temperatures started increasing and while I was carrying a .75 liter hand held water bottle, I was running out of fluid and was really looking forward to aid station 2 at mile 10.1. After running on the top of the mountain, the trail turned downward and finally, after 2:20+ minutes of running, there was the second aid station. I fueled up on Gatorade, PB&J and Pringle potato chips. (Ultra’s are cool, all kinds of munches at the aid stations).

The run to the third aid station was uneventful except for the time I was congratulating myself for running so far over very rocky terrain with out a fall. At which point I promptly tripped on a rock and fell on my face. The person behind me told me it was not the rock you tripped on that one has to worry about, it is the rock your head lands on that is the concern. Eh, if I have not mentioned it so far, this race is very very very rocky!!! Rocks everywhere. This is also where I met Jim. Jim is from Ky and his goal for the Highland Sky 40 mile was to finish under 10 hours. Jim was a wonderful running partner as he kept my mind off the miles with his running adventure stories. The next thing I know, we are pulling into aid station 4, the half way point. Yahoo!!! This is where my drop bag was located and how I wanted to change into my dry light colored fun poka dotted shirt! Well, I found my dry socks and red hat….but NO SHIRT!! Darn. Major moment of disappointment. But hey, I was feeling great, had a great running partner and was half done, so I did not let the shirt disappointment get me down. I changed into dry socks, shook out the sand and gravel in my shoes, added another layer of body glide and off Jim and I went on the road through hell.

The next 7 miles was on a gravel road almost completely exposed to the rising heat of the day. (afternoon temps mid 80s) You could see for miles and all you saw was the gravel road that just went up and up and up. On the road way up ahead you could see black dots moving along the road that were other runners. That road seemed to go on forever with the hills getting bigger and bigger. Finally we got to the end of the road from hell and turned back to the trails. This part of the race was mostly through high mountain meadows full of flowers, scrub brush, grasses, small trees and of course mud and rocks. You could see for miles and the view was beautiful. Again mostly exposed to the hot sun, but very runnable. Eventually, the meadow turned to mostly lush low land type grasses, with a few more normal sized trees but here I lost my running buddy as he started having leg cramp problems.

It was a bit lonely from this point forward. I was running alone and could no longer see any runners in front of me as the trail became extremely rocky. The boulders were the size of cars that tested our rock jumping abilities with tired cramping legs. It was a bit daunting, and the trail was a bit difficult to follow, but once through the first section of boulders we were all rewarded with a view of the mountains and valleys below. Absolutely spectacular!! Oh how I wished I had brought along a camera.

After another section of boulders it was back to meadows and the occasional wooded trail section. Just before the last aid station we had to run UP a ski slope. And it was NOT the bunny slope. Once we turned off the slope it was a 700ft “plunge” down the mountain to the final aid station 8. I passed a girl here whose boy friend said it was not safe to run. I told them I was going for it and I was sure the girl would catch me on the final flat 4 mile section. What fun, running on dead legs down the trail grabbing onto trees to keep from falling. 🙂

After the down hill section it was nice easy trail and then, thank goodness the final aid station and only 4.1 flat road miles left to run. I can not say I ran particularly well the last 4 miles as first the girl who carefully walked the last down hill section passed me and then two others, but the end was near and while I was tired and my legs were dead, I was very very pumped! The very last 1/2 mile was again on nice easy trail and then there it was the finish line!!!! I had completed my very first Ultra Marathon. Time: 9:43ish

So, back to the original question. Why run an Ultra Marathon. One reason is for the challenge. Another reason is for the absolutely spectacular mountain views. The number one reason…for the people you meet along the way. Thank you Dan, Jim, Ken, David, Eva, Northern Va girl, Beer Guy, Down Hill girl, Daisy girl, man with the stitches, Father and Son team, aid station people and all the rest. You all made it an event to remember.

Author: Marianna Inslee

HS 40M 2006 – Nick Whited

I have wanted to travel north up the the far north eastern corner of WV and experience this ultra called the WV Highlands Sky run. Everyone always talked about how great the course and how much fun they had. Little did I know I would finally get to experience it for myself. After DNF’ing at MMT 100 in May, my June schedule was suddenly free before taking a little break.

After a long 5 1/2 drive on Friday afternoon, my wife and I made it to Canaan Valley Resort. The beauty of the ski slopes from our room were amazing, little did I know I would hate this section come the next day. We ate at the Hickory Room, enjoyed the cheesecake and were off to the room for an early morning. I woke up around 3:45am on Saturday and began the prep for the race. I got on the school bus and enjoyed talking with the Bee brothers and J.L. Brown. I was glad to get off of the bus, as the ride made me a little car sick. Soon after, the race began and we were running and laughing on the road section. A huge pack trekked the 2 mile section before heading uphill. Once in the woods, my legs began to burn and I screamed out to the others, “do your legs burn like mine?” Everyone stated that we were in a patch of ‘stinging nettle’ and man, did it burn. I thought I was having some kind of allergic reaction to a bug bite or something.

Once on the steep climb I enjoyed the conversation with the other runners. Little did I know what lay ahead. I started feeling bad around the 18 mile mark right before the long 7.5 mile road section. I managed to fight through it and had moved all the way up to 4th right at 32 miles. All of a sudden like a ton of bricks hitting me, I started to vomit violently. Chris Palladino and his friend came running by as I laid there on the rock patch in agony, they gave me some fluid and so did a guy mountain biking. I managed to crawl into the aid station and get some ice. The heat took its toll on me. I don’t recall much after other than running with Bill Young and John Bridges the last little bit. John left me at the last aid station and I struggled in to the finish. I finally got in front of the lodge and realized I must have missed a turn, after going around the entire resort/hotel rooms, I saw the pool and came in the opposite way, everyone looked at me weird as I came in and said I had missed the trail section and ran further – great! A lady came over to me, I didn’t catch her name but she offered to go get me some ice cream, that did the trick and I’m thankful for her. I would have laid there another 2 hours without that ice cream. My wife was busy finding me some ice.

The race is tough but do-able. Dan Lehmann and the aid station workers are amazing and did a terrific job. The race runs like a 50 mile like I have heard from numerous people. The heat made it tougher this year and I was surprised that only 20 folks dropped. I’m glad I trekked north to WV and took part in the Highland Sky, I’ve got to come back and experience that last section I missed when I was delirious.

Author: Nick

HS 40M 2006 – Dennis Hamrick

I wanted to thank everyone with the Highland Sky 40 mile. I had a very tough May with the loss of my Dad. The race provided me with the chance to see my friends and view some of the best scenery in the world. I did not finish the race, but I was very pleased with my effort.

I have always thought of running and life in the same way: It’s not how far you have to go….it’s how far you have already been. My Dad taught me many lessons when I was young. I did not realize what they meant until later in life. Ultra runs combine the young and old, the new comer and the seasoned vetran. We share our life stories on the trail and take away new ones to tell at the next event. We learn what we are capable of doing and some times we reach our limits before the race is over.

My Dad ran the good race. He reached his finish line on May 21, 2006. That was his limit. During the Highland Sky, I saw the azaleas in full bloom. I saw the huckleberry and teaberry bushes awakening. I saw what my Dad had taught me about life. Enjoy every minute and be thankful for what’s right in front of you.

Thanks to everyone for a great event. Hope to see everyone at the Rattlesnake 50k on July 8.

Author: Dennis

Highlands Sky 40 Mile Trail Run

The First Step

THE FIRST STEP

Every journey begins with the first step; so it was with my initial sojourn into the oft-maligned sport known as ultra running at the Mountain Masochist along the Blue Ridge of Virginia. I have myself considered for some time that ultra runners were a strange lot; the likes of ultra glamour-boy Dean Karnazas doing 300 plus mile runs makes other workout fanatics seem almost sane.

I was sorely trepidated in the weeks leading up to the “race”, which I was more and more considering a matter of survival than speed. Having come off a hard summer of triathlon training, I had my doubts whether I was sufficiently prepared for this type of challenge. Don’t get me wrong: I was confident of finishing, but the question of the extent of the pain involved left me concerned about my own threshold. for “discomfort”. One of my mottos is “Pain is just God’s way of reminding us that we are alive,” (I think I coined that one) and I hoped He would be running with me this day, or at least send an angel to watch over me(isn’t that a song?).

Which leads us to the reverend Doctor Horton, a.k.a. The Weird Sucker, the king of motivation in this happy jaunt in the woods. I thought to myself, “If this ol’ crazy geezer can run over 40 miles a day for 66 days, surely I’ll have little trouble running 50 in one day…” Little did I know. Even among ultrarunners as a breed apart, Dr. Horton stands alone as a testament to the intrepid nature of man.

We of the merry band of trail runners from West by God Virginia agonized over what to carry on the run, I more so than others because this was, after all, my first attempt at an ultra: some had fanny packs, others hand-helds, and I had decided to rely only on a couple of GUs stashed in the pockets of my tri-top and the excellence of the aid stations. The thought of carrying anything for 50 miles made me want to pare down as much as possible. Ieven considered ditching my cap, but in hindsight I was glad to have had the protection for my bald and beautiful pate in the glaring sun-gleam of this gorgeous day.

After a fitful night of minimal sleep(although more than Dave “The Man” Mackey got, as it turns out), we all took turns trying to have that transcendent BM that Dr. Horton had so strongly suggested in his preamble to the race. Those who were unable knew surely that they would have to face Mother Nature on a basic level early on. (‘Nuff said on that subject!) Upon arriving at the James River Visitor’s Center, we soon came to realize just how warm it was going to be; it was already well into the 50s in the darkness of the early morn. I predicted a higher than normal attrition rate. “Drink, drink, drink” was the mantra for the day, and I resolved not to let dehydration be my downfall.

The time to begin approached, and I kept expecting Dr. Horton to announce the singing of our national anthem, but as the time ticked down to 30 seconds, I realized it was not to be; I nearly cried out, for I had volunteered for the honor, only to have my bid rebuffed as untimely. Nobody’s perfect….and it was now time to “Git ‘er done!” as the hillbillies from the Commonwealth of Wahoo(VA) are wont to say.

It was strange at first, running in the darkness, eerie and foreboding; I tried to break up the seriousness of the moment with a bit of levity, the old saw: “Is this the James River 5-miler?” Nobody laughed. I yelled to our fastest hopeful from West Virginia, “Win or die, John!” as he passed by after the turnaround. I took my first pit stop just after the turnaround, confident in my superhydration level. I jogged easily, trying not to be pulled into catching up with my so-called friends from Morgantown who were so ungraciously leaving me in the dust.

Just after the turn into the woods , and after a beautiful view of the spillway and mill from the James River Bridge, I caught my good friend Kimberly Fisher as she strode up the hill; I was still in “jogging” mode, and wondered how long it would be until I too was forced to walk; in hindsight, it would not be long at all.

The aid stations began to tick off, and at every one I drank 2-3 cups of Conquest and ate sparingly of GU and PB&J. I talked to just about everyone whom I passed or who passed me. Most mentioned something about their training: lack of mileage, injury, loss of focus. I myself had done two 20 milers in training, and some shorter trail runs, but I knew there were many out there this day with less training, and I was determined to try to help others with motivational support to the best of my ability.

I was shooting for ten minute miles, and I knew I was close to that, but didn’t know how long I could keep it up. As the trail wore on (and UP!) from the aid station at 14.9, I began to walk more on the hills, copying the technique of those around me. My good friends Dave and Tanya kept my spirits high by driving around and meeting our WV runners at various aid stations, providing food, drink, and encouragement aplenty when most needed. I can’t say enough about how much I appreciated their efforts to keep us going, as I think it made a real difference in the end for me.

Toward the halfway point, we topped (or so I thought) the ridge and the road flattened out. Unfortunately, my hip flexors were tight as a drum at this point, and I could barely lift my knees. Naturally I tripped on a teeny rock in the road, which sent me careening, windmilling my arms wildly to maintain my balance. I managed to stay up, but only after my hamstrings felt as if both had been stabbed. The aid station at the halfway was a welcome sight in the bright sunlight, and I gimped my way across the road to the shouts of my crewmates.

Having run the first half in my Asics 2100s, I was more than ready to switch, as my dogs were definitely barkin’. I had told my crewmates early on in the race that I would need the Hardrocks for sure at the halfway, and never was I so pleased at a decision I had made. I had only had them for 2 weeks at the recommendation of my buddy Dan “Way Out There” Lehmann (King of WV Trail Runners at past.wvmtr.org), and I was concerned that the shoes might not be broken in enough. True, they would get a hard workout, but my feet would survive unscathed, unblistered, and unbarkin’. Hallelujah!

The theme from “Rocky” blasted away in the distance as I meandered up Buck Mountain. This was a very purty part, and I was glad for the solitude in the serenity of the hills. It was here that I met one of my pals from WV who was expected to be a frontrunner; he was limping back toward the halfway point, complaining of a groin injury: the mountain was beginning to take her toll. As for me, I just hoped to be able to loosen up a bit as I ascended. This portion seemed especially tough, as I slipped repeatedly on the loose large stones camouflaged by leaves. Approaching the “Rocky-top”aid station, I again espied a number of signs with Bible verses leading up to the station, and here I experienced my deepest pangs of emotion, and as I read one verse aloud to no one in particular, “I lift up mine eyes to the hills…”, I chocked back the tears. I could feel the power of Jesus lifting me to the summit, and I was confident that I would make it to the end. While the aid workers were very nice, the Conquest drink they provided was laden with ice, and my hand wrapped around the hand-held began to freeze in the wind. I was grateful for the warmth of the day and the stiff breeze hailing from my own great state of West Virginia.

Climbing toward The Loop, I encountered a large group of folks on horseback. I was not in a happy-camper mood at this time, and I called out several times, “Runner on the left”, even as they walked their mounts three-abreast. These were big suckers too, reminding me of the little trail run I had taken last year out at the Big Ditch in Arizona, when I had to pass several trains of horses and pack mules. I shall always remember the sullen words of the lead cowpoke that day as he muttered under his breath, “That’s a good way to get yer head kicked in”, to which I replied, “Thanks for sharin’ the trail, buckaroo!”

At the trail head of The Loop, I again encountered my friends Tanya and Dave who gave sustenance and attaboys. The Loop itself was a serious challenge for me, because I am unfortunately not a very good technical runner. My eyesight and depth perception are poor, and I tend to trip frequently on rocky trails. I was slowed almost to a walk, and halfway through a passel of runners began to pass me, and my positivity began to wane. As I fell further behind this scampering group, I began to stumble more and more frequently as I struggled to keep up, and I must admit than an expletive or five may have escaped my usually holy and pristine lips.

Upon finally escaping the torture of The Loop, I was chagrined to learn from my crew that my arch-nemesis and future bride Kim Fisher was hot on my tail and closing fast…would I see her before the end? As enchanting as her beauty might be, I did not want to face the ignominity of eating her dust this day.

A remark about the aid station workers in general: most were very nice and obliging, offering great help and encouragement and food, and the potatoes and salt effectively neutralized the effects of the sweet Conquest, which I continued to guzzle at the rate of three cups per station. Some of the fellows (and it always seemed to be men in charge of this) tallying the race numbers were a bit persnickety, calling out in loud voices, “YOUR RACE NUMBER, SIR!” To which I would shout my number thrice, with a boisterous “OO-RAH!” at the end. While I understand their adamance and the importance of checking each runner in at every station, I could not help but wonder whether they could have positioned spotters on both sides of the trail so I didn’t have to do the Hokey-Pokey at every aid station…but then again, whining is in my nature, and this enabled me to blow off some steam, but I tried very hard, according to Dr. H’s instructions, to be as nice as possible under the trying circumstances.

Where was I ? Ah yes, droning on and on about my “run”, which was becoming less of a run with every passing mile: I was alone by this time, entering the second wooded section and beginning to despair a bit; the trail becoming a little harder to follow…or was it that I myself was becoming disoriented? Many trees were down on the trail, and five or six times I had to stop to look for the next white ribbon against the glare of the sun. Stumbling forward, I again felt the pang of self-doubt as more runners approached, chatting away at my tail. I soon realized that it was she herself(!), the darling and intrepid Ms. Fisher, trotting along with a male runner whom she had gathered along the way. As they bounced past, I was determined to keep pace, even at the very real threat of tripping on my achy-breaky legs.

Sooner than I had expected, we were upon the last aid station, and Kim asked the young perky fellow, “How much longer?” Somehow I had it in my head that we had six or seven more miles to go, and I hung my head in resignation. Much to my surprise, the young volunteer said, “Only two point nine miles or so, maybe a little more…and it’s all downhill!” With that, it was as if the weight of the day had been totally lifted from off my shoulders…I thought: “A measly five kilometers….it’s a RACE now!” Taking off like the proverbial bat from hell, I knew I would not be passed again. My face widened into a grin as I churned through those last few miles, caring little about the water hazards, bounding through the spilling creeks with reckless abandon. Here I began to reel ‘em in again, some of those who had so mercilessly passed me in The Loop…as I galloped past, I remarked, “Bet you thought you’d never see me again!” It was the best I had felt all day, and I could smell the goal line. On that last downhill on the gravel road, a beautiful blonde runner was climbing the hill and gave me a big smile and an “Almost home!” I smiled back, wishing we were headed in the same direction, and pounded on down to the hard road. Rounding the last left turn on to the main road, I felt a real sense of exhilaration as I hogged the lane. The finish loomed, and I was happy to espy The Weird Sucker’s lovely assistant from Nigeria pointing the way. Crossing the line (Was there ever any doubt???), I barely acknowledged The Weird Sucker, but then I turned back and gave Dr. Horton a big ol’ hug, demanding, “How come you wouldn’t let me sing the National Anthem, you Scalawag?!” To which he speedily replied, “‘Cause you gotta come back next year to sing it!” Hmmm, I thought.

My goals had been to finish, to break ten hours, and to gain weight, all of which I accomplished. The rhetorical question is whether I will ever do another: does the excitement and sense of accomplishment trump the pain? As far as competitions go, I was happy to finish in the top 25 percent, but I have always considered my race to have been a relative failure if I have not cracked the top ten percent. I used to consider an abomination to be beaten by a “mere” woman; as the years have passed, however, I have considered it a relative success if I have finished among the top five women. This day no less than eight women bested me, and there was nothing “mere” about any of them…several thrashed me rather soundly by well over an hour and a half.

Nobody who started this race was a loser or a failure: anyone who has ever attempted such a feat is far and away both physically and mentally stronger than most of his or her peers. With respect to Ms. Trittipoe, I must say you are a success for having made the attempt, regardless of the outcome. Every runner or racer has had to face the specter of DNF at one time or another; I myself had my first one earlier this year when a wheel blowout on a triathlon caused my mountain bike to be unridable. As unpleasant as DNFs are, each makes us stronger and more resolute in the long run.

Why do we, the average Joes and Josephines, take up the challenge of such events as the Masochist? Certainly not for the glory….there is none, except perhaps for the Mackeys and Hortons of this world. Perhaps it’s the comradery, the feeling that we’re all in it together, and that we’ll make it together…or maybe it’s the fact that each of us is on the edge of his or her limits, pushing forward into the unknown….whatever the reasons, the sense of accomplishment is indeed huge, as Dr. Horton pointed out in his own poignant description of his first successful ultra bid.

Could I have done better at the Mt. Masochist? Yes, I suppose, with more training, more perseverance, more steely resolve, but the bottom line is, I’m not a particularly good trail runner…maybe I should go back to 5 Ks where I belong…or maybe I’ll just bait The Weird Sucker into railing at me in his inimitable preacher style, “YOU CAN’T DO A HUNDRED MILES!”

Author: Charlie Shaffer
October 2005

Helvetia 10K Mountain Run & 2 Mile Walk

Highlands Sky, a 40 Mile Race that feels like a 50 miler

I debated all Spring on whether to run Dan Lehmann’s race. I had run a lot of ultras (for me) this year and I was unsure whether to do one more before getting some rest prior to the Fall racing season. I figured I could handle a 40 miler and besides I ran this race it’s inaugural year in 2003 and I survived. What I forgot was that covering 40+ miles would not be the hard part but how long it takes to run this particular 40+ miles.

What really drew me back is the scenery from start to finish. We run through lush green forests, over large rock outcroppings, across high meadows, up and down a long service road (a.k.a. “the road across the sky”) and down a section in the woods properly nicknamed “butt slide”. This new section was replacing the wet bog area we ran through in 2003. I also heard it would be easier or faster?? I’m still not sold on it being either.

It was a cool, dry morning and great running weather (dryer than in year’s past). I ran the first section or two with the previous year’s overall winner Bill Young and the eventual winner for this year Ian Schouten. Bill had his entire family manning the 2nd aid station, which I thought was very cool. I enjoyed talking with both Bill and Ian for the first few miles. After the first big climb Ian mentioned that the climb did not feel too bad and we both laughed as we knew that we would be feeling that climb a few hours later. By the second major climb we had all separated so I would find myself running alone in silence from here to the finish. I did mumble a few choice words to myself after hours of running over rock after rock. I started getting some blisters on both my feet around mile 17. I knew it would be a long day now. As my blisters got worse it was very difficult maneuvering over, around, and through all the technical sections, which is what this course is all about. I found myself missing the service road section and longing for the 2 miles of roads near the end. The only time I was comfortable was when my foot would land on a flat smooth surface. I was out of luck on this terrain.

I was never able to catch the swift moving Mr. Schouten. Blisters or not he was out of my reach. I decided trying to finish and maintain 2nd place would be my priority. The last short trail section before we entered the park entrance to the lodge and the finish was tough for me. The grass was waist deep and I figured Dan must have forgotten to get out his weed eater prior to the race. (Bill also mentioned something about the need for a weed eater in this section as he crossed the finish line) I ended up walking most of this grassy trail as my feet were killing me and it was hard to see where your feet were landing. I’m still not sure if there was a trail there or not. I eventually made it through to the finish and was very glad that my racing was over for a while.

I have raced and trained on some beautiful trails but the Highlands Sky course is my favorite even though it is brutally tough. I hope that Dan is able to keep having this race year after year. He is an awesome race director (runner) and has every detail worked out. The volunteers are top notch. The aid stations are as good as it gets. The pre-race and post-race meals are wonderful. Dan mentioned during the race briefing that someone had filled out the section of their entry form on how they had heard about this race by putting down ”they had heard voices under their bed”. These same voices will be bringing me back to run here again.

Author: Mark Lundblad

Highlands Sky 40M 2006 – Caroline E. Williams

?Three strikes, you’re out,? so the saying goes. While I don’t live by this adage, I really couldn’t handle three, consecutive DNFs at this tough but beautiful run. Walker, my husband, also wanted to finish; as he had also DNF’d the first two years.

But my focus being on Vermont, I didn’t train specifically for, or developed a plan for this race. I relied on my overall conditioning, and my successful finishes at other races this year to carry me through the finish line.

I don’t know why this race is so tough for me. I’ve done other tough 40-mile events without sweating the cutoffs. Perhaps it’s because I still consider myself a late-fall and winter runner, and this event is held close to the warm, summer months. Uwharrie and Mt. Mitchell (both 40-mile events) are in February, when I’m in my top form. Perhaps it’s due to a mix of rocks, mud, ascends, sharp descends, and straight as an arrow road across the sky that makes this event so challenging.

The conditions couldn’t be any better with cool temperatures and overcast skies that kept the sun from beating down on us during that long, 7-mile road section. The entire course was also much drier than the first two years. We could actually see the rocks that peppered the course!

I went into this run with a minor pain on my right knee, lateral thigh, and hip that resulted from a bike spill three days before. And when I fell the first time, of course it had to be my right knee that made contact with a large, flat rock! Walker gave me some meds, and I carried on. Rob Apple passed us saying something funny and encouraging. Two or three other runners passed us, their hands making contact with my shoulders.

I never thought that we would be so close to the cutoff times. We reached aid six one minute before the cutoff! If Walker had not pushed me as we neared aid six, I am certain that we would have timed out there again this year. I’ve never been more appreciative of my husband’s presence during a race than at Highland Sky 2005.

The folks at Aid six were just wonderful. There, I saw Sharon Lapkoff’s husband, fellow runner Alex Morton from South Carolina, and few other familiar faces. It was so very good to hear their hearty congratulations, and encouraging words. At aid seven, we ate warm, chicken noodle soup given to us by Dan’s son. At this point, we were fairly sure that we would make it, although it would be close to the final cutoff for an official finish.

On the final stretch, within two miles from the finish, we saw Rob Apple again. He is finished, and driving back home already. He shouted, ?You guys did it, this year!? I refuse to look at my watch, so I’m hoping he’s right. I was thinking that if we didn’t make the cutoff, at least we’ll have covered the entire course this year. That, in my book, is not a DNF. That’s a finish, albeit an unofficial one. I looked at my watch just as we were heading into the final trail section. We had eight minutes! I was encouraged, so I picked up the pace. Then I heard David Snipes yelling something like, you run until you reach me, right here! I’m running towards him. He then warns me about the sharp descend going down to the finish.

I’m thinking, he’s nuts! There were much sharper descends on the course than this little, short downhill.

Two years ago, my birth-mother, who was visiting me from South Korea, helped the runners at aid four. At age 87, she wanted to learn some English. She asked me what she should say to the runners. I told her, ?Good job!? A couple of runners told me after the event that she was an inspiration. Last year, other volunteers asked me if she was with me, as they appreciated her help and enjoyed her company. My son was at aid four last year, in lieu of
mother. This year, it was just my husband and myself. And my birth-mother and son were both glad to hear that we finally came across the finish line. She boldly said the words, ?Good job!?

Dan, Lehmann family, the volunteers, and runners who encouraged me, thank you all so very much. To all the aid station folks, thanks for waiting for us, and encouraging us. To all the runners who recognize me from previous events, it is always so good to see you all again.

And until we meet again, HAPPY TRAILS!

Author: Caroline E. Williams.

HS Report by RD

Dan Lehmann, RD
June 22,2005

How about some important race statistics;

  • 40.7 miles, 5739′ ascent, 5121′ descent
  • A 5 mile climb ascending 2200′ from mile 2 to mile 7
  • 125 starters, 116 official finishers and 2 just over the 12 hrs…..a 94% finishing rate
  • 23 first time ultrarunners of which 19 finished…. an 83% finishing rate
  • 8 runners have a streak going completing 2003, 2004 and 2005 races

That doesn’t tell the story of the 2005 Highlands Sky at all. The Friday pre-race camaraderie, the anticipation on the pre-dawn ride to Laneville, the excitement of the start, the conversations along the trail, the freedom of the hills, the company of old and new found friends, the smiles and grimaces of joy as runners cross the finish line…. these are what this 40 miler and ultra running is all about.

A cool, 47 degree Saturday morning and a preceding week of dry weather made for superb running conditions this year. Someone remarked how the lesser amount of water and mud on the trail made it easier to negotiate the rock-strewn sections…. well, a little bit anyway. A new section eliminating the “big muddy” and taking the high meadows and boulders meant less sloshing through the bogs. Everyone enjoyed this new section and the magnificent views along Raven Ridge Trail.

But there was a race going on too. Front runners Ian Schouten, Bill Young and Mark Lundblad all pulled in to AS #2 mile 10.1 at 1:45 followed in minutes by Luke Fleischman, Todd Eaby, Chris Frazer and Justin Thaine. By AS #4 mile 19.3 Schouten had a 3 minute lead on Lundblad and 7 minute on Young. The men kept this order through the reminder of the race with Ian Schouten of Lititz, PA winning in 6:12:04

The women likewise were close at AS #2 with Amy Bath and Justine Morrison arriving at mile 10.1 at 2:05 followed by Wendy Zamzow-Master at 2:07. Last years winner Sophie Speidel was back several minutes at 2:34. By AS #4 mile 19.3 Morrison had pulled ahead with 3:52, Bath second at 4:03 with Zamzow a minute behind at 4:04. At AS #6 at the end of the 7.3 road section Morrison was solid at 4:59, Bath 5:15, Zamzow 5:21 and Speidel close at 5:29. Across the new, tough 5.8 mile section to AS #7 it was still Morrison leading, Bath, and now Speidel at 6:46:30 and Zamzow at 6:46:50. The race was on for 2nd and 3rd place. At the last AS#8 things had changed with Speidel moving up to 2nd, Zamzow 3rd and Bath 4th. Justine Morrison of Washington, DC won with a time of 7:53:26, with Sophie Speidel 2nd and Wendy Zamzow-Masters 3rd.

It was a great third running of the Highlands Sky. Many thanks to our sponsors; Montrail, Patagonia, Fuelbelt, Hammergel, Timberline, Tygart Valley Orthopedics & Sports Medicine, and Canaan Valley Resort. Thanks to the Monogahela National Forest for their cooperation and to all the fine race day volunteers.

The West Virginia Mountain Trail Runners is pleased to host this event and we hope to see you in 2006.

Oh, and next year I’ll remember the weed wacker for that last tall grass section!

Be well,
Dan