Above the Clouds 50K – Race Report – 1st Overall & Course Record

The Above the Clouds 50K took place on October 4^th in stunning Woodland Park, Colorado and was put on by Revenant Running. Situated at 8,600 feet above sea level, Woodland Park is often called the “City Above the Clouds”, which is how the race aptly gets its name.

This was not a planned race by any means for me, and I ended up on this start line on a whim. I was already going to be in Denver visiting my family and was perusing UltraSignup to see if there happened to be something local that might be fun. No expectations of finding something close by, but as it happened, the Above the Clouds 50K ended up being the perfect combination of race distance and travel time from Denver. I wanted a low-stakes challenge to wash away the disappointment of withdrawing from the Grindstone 100K by UTMB two weeks earlier. Following an exceptionally difficult double over a five-week period, running the Vermont 100 Endurance Run and then setting a new Marathon PR of 2:37 at the Sri Chinmoy Marathon, I did not feel like my body was ready for another hard 100K only four weeks after the marathon. After taking about a week of downtime following that withdrawal, I was ready to find something again to scratch that itch. Enter the Above the Clouds 50K.

I arrived in Denver late Thursday night, greeted by family who had picked me up from the airport. The next day, we drove up to Boulder to meet my brother, Cole, and his girlfriend, Kate, for a hike around Green Mountain West followed by lunch out in downtown Boulder. Cole would be running the 50K with me in the morning, our second 50K this year after the running the Canyons Endurance Run 50K by UTMB back in April. He would be spending the night with us in Denver before our early morning wake up call. After an early pasta dinner, we were off to bed.

Pre-Race Photo!

Our alarms went off at 4:00 AM, and Cole and I quickly mobilized our supplies and hoped in the car at 4:30 AM so we could arrive at Woodland Park by 6:00 AM. I spent most of the car ride trying to control my breathing and heart rate as we slowly climbed from Denver’s elevation of 5,200 feet to Woodland Parks elevation at 8,600 feet. To say I was not acclimated would be an understatement. As I exited the car after we arrived at Woodland Park Middle School, my heart rate was nearly 100 bpm. After walking down to the starting area to grab our packets, Cole and I hung out around the car until about ten minutes before the race, preparing our gear and trying to stay warm. While it wasn’t exceptionally cold, we were expecting wind chills in the mid-40s and high winds up in the mountains for a good part of the race. Cole and I made our way back down to the start and after a few pre-race announcements we were off!

We quickly set off from the dirt track and forked left onto a paved road climb. This climb would take us up nearly a mile before we entered a dirt trail, which would ascend Lovell Gulch. All told, the first three miles of the race featured an oxygen-sapping 900-foot climb from the race start elevation of 8,600 feet up to 9,500 feet, with runners spending majority of the race above 9,000 feet. Not that I was expecting anything differently, but within a half-mile of starting my heart rate was already pushing mid 160 bpm. I knew I would be comfortable holding a near anaerobic effort up to about 170 bpm, but I didn’t want to push too hard too early. By the end of the first mile, we had a runner immediately gap Cole and I with another a few seconds ahead as we settled into third and fourth with a few other runners right behind us. As we turned onto the trail and continued our ascent Cole and I had pulled ahead of the other runner and moved into second and third place. We had planned for Cole, with his partial acclimatization, to lead the charge on the climb so that we did not overdo it, yet we still found ourselves pushing the climb harder than we expected trying to keep the leader in sight. As we entered the third mile, the steepest of the initial climb, I actively had to pull back my effort as my heart rate hit the mid-170s as Cole and another runner pulled ahead. Finally, we exited the climb turning onto the forest service roads where we would spend much of the race as we passed the first aid station at Lovell Gulch.

Course Elevation Profile

Lovell Gulch – 1 – Mile 3.1, 4^th Place, 29:28 Total Time, 9:31 Average Pace

The three runners ahead of me had all skipped the first aid station given that it was early in the race so I followed suite. For this race, I was wearing my Naked Running belt with a 500ml soft flask filled with water as well as a handheld filled with 50g of Tailwind and an LMNT packet. I was planning to fuel aggressively, taking in 80-100g of carbs an hour, primarily through drink mix and Gu Gummies. Given the relatively untechnical nature of the race, I had brought my HOKA Tecton X3’s, with an embedded carbon plate, to the party. Turning onto Rampart Range Road, a slight downhill allowed me to quickly bridge the gap back to Cole and the other runner. I went by them, determined to see if I could reel back in the leader who did not seem to be widening his gap anymore. Moving into second place as I began to chase, neither Cole nor the other runner went with me. We continued to climb ever so slightly the next three miles as we continued on Rampart Range Road. The wind gusts continued to exceed 30 miles per hour as I hit Mile 6, as we turned onto a rolling straightaway where I had an absolutely stunning view of Pikes Peak. Towards the end of this straightaway, I had finally started to put significant time into the leader, and as we hit Mile 7 and began the first real descent of the race, I was right on his heels. The next mile dropped nearly 300 feet as the second aid station, Rainbow, approached.

Rainbow – Mile 7.5, 2^nd Place, 1:04:19 Total Time, 8:34 Average Pace

Views of Pikes Peak at Mile 7

I quickly refilled my water bottle and added a new packet of Tailwind as I exited the aid station first and took the lead. I intentionally backed off the gas a bit here as we had another large descent to Rampart Reservoir, where we would spend a large portion of the race, and I wanted to get my heart rate under control and get a feel for how the other runner was feeling. The other runner, who I came to know as Teri Copeland, pulled up on me and we chatted for a few minutes before making a right-hand turn and entering the singletracks of Rampart Reservoir, which we would primarily follow for the next 12-13 Miles. The Rampart Reservoir trail was classic singletracks trail, not too technical, but with endless little steep undulations that were sapping my legs and sending my heart rate screaming.

Around Mile 9, I put in a surge to break the race back open and dropped Teri as he fell back perhaps 10-15 seconds. I continued along the trail, catching stunning views of the reservoir through the trees, as I tried to continue to build a gap while keeping my effort moderated. While the course was exceptionally well marked, I missed a sharp turn and sent both myself and Teri up a steep climb that ended in a parking lot. We quickly turned back around, perhaps losing two minutes total. As we found the trail again, we bisected my brother Cole, who was passing by right as we were reconnecting, putting all three of us together in a pack at the front. I was a bit surprised that he had been so close considering the effort I thought I had put in the last few miles.

We ran together for about another mile or so before I put in another surge to try and break the race open again as we briefly left the Rampart Reservoir and hit another service road which would take us on an extended downhill as we passed by the closely guarded Rampart Reservoir Dam. I opened up the pace into the low 7s as I checked back to see Cole and Teri probably 30 seconds back. Our service road descent ended at Mile 14 as we turned into a tight single-track trail that would connect back to the Rampart Reservoir. For the first time since Mile 7, we were starting to go back uphill, and I hit the beginning of a major low point of the day as my legs and lungs were tested on a 200-foot switchback climb. After an agonizing climb, I arrived back at Rampart Reservoir, hitting the next aid station, Dam. I quickly refilled my bottle and set off, getting about a minute into the woods before I heard cheers indicating the next runner, who I assumed to be either Teri or Cole.

Dam – Mile 14.3, 1^st Place, 2:01:37 Total Time, 8:30 Average Pace

Course Map

I ended up hitting the halfway point at Mile 15.5 in about 2:11, about 7 minutes up on course record pace, but beginning to struggle mightily. My next three miles were wholly uninspiring. While the Reservoir was beautiful, there was something about the constant undulation of the trail and being at altitude that did not allow me to settle in. Every little climb was beginning to feel like agony on my legs as I struggled with oxygen deprivation, and I could start to feel the pain building in my head. I finally began the ascent out of Rampart Reservoir at Mile 19 and as I turned to begin a nearly three hundred foot climb I heard a large shout from behind me. It was my brother, Cole, who must have been not more than thirty seconds back as we had entered the first straightaway in a long while. I felt like a dead man walking as the altitude was starting to chip away at me. I pretty much did all I could do to keep Cole at bay as we continued to climb up to the penultimate aid station at Rampart Ridge.

Rampart Ridge – Mile 19.8, 1^st Place, 2:53:12 Total Time, 8:45 Average Pace

View of Yellow Aspens and Forest Service Roads

At this point, I decided to ditch my drink mix entirely which was not working for me at altitude. I left the aid station about 30 seconds ahead of Cole as we continued to climb. I was desperate for downhill as I felt like I was hemorrhaging time with every step. Finally, we hit the peak at Mile 21, as the climb gave way to descent and my legs were able to open up. The descent, in addition to choking down water, was slowly starting to lessen the pounding in my head. I continued to descent with Cole still tracking by closely as we left the forest road for a wet and technical single track at Mile 23. The single track gave way to the most daunting section of the course, another six-hundred-foot climb over the next three and a half miles. I figured my best shot at holding Cole off was to push very hard on this section knowing I would have something left for the last three miles that shot back down the nine hundred foot climb we had come up. By Mile 24, it looked like I had finally put some distance on him, but I wasn’t looking back to check very often. All I could think about was trying to survive until the last aid station came back to Lovell Gulch as I was quickly running out of water. Even the stunning beauty of the yellow aspen trees was not enough to take my mind off the pain. Still, all things come to an end, even the never-ending climb at Mile 25 and Mile 26 as the last aid station approached. I turned left back on Rampart Range Road and hit the Lovell Gulch aid station at exactly Mile 27.

Lovell Gulch – 2 – Mile 27.0, 1^st Place, 4:01:55 Total Time, 8:58 Average Pace

Even though there were only a bit more than three miles to go, I was desperate for water due to the extended distance from the prior aid station. Thankfully, the aid station water was ice cold, and I set off knowing I had a little less than thirty minutes to go. I was expected all downhill the last few miles but instead was hit with a profile that would descend, bite back with a steep punctuating climb that took back some of the loss and then dropped down again. All told, my legs were feeling really strong as the oxygen deprivation felt like the true limiter today. The mini-rollers, some of the steepest of the day, did not end until about a mile and a half to go as I reconnected with the trail that we had ascended earlier in the day. Now with true downhill ahead, I was eating up the distance, finally popping out the trail and turning right back onto the paved road with less than a mile to go. With the win seemingly comfortably secure, I was now racing to see how much time I could put into the course record as I took off down the road descent as my pace crept into the low 6-minute range. Finally, I hit the parking lot and turned right back on the dirt path as I crossed the finish line in first overall with a time of 4:31:23, a course record by about six minutes.

Finish  – Mile 30.8, 1^st Place, 4:31:23 Total Time, 8:47 Average Pace

Smith Brothers Take 1st and 2nd!

I continued to wait at the finish line and before I knew it Cole had appeared in the parking lot and entered the dirt track as he would go on to finish second in a time of 4:36:54, a phenomenal effort that put him only six minutes behind me and also about a minute under the old course record! All told, it was a 1-2 sweep for the Smith Brothers on a beautiful and breathtaking (literally) course through the mountains. While perhaps not as much of a dominating performance as maybe I had hoped for or anticipated, I was thrilled to put myself in a position of adversity and try to challenge myself in a way I had not before. I had no idea what to expect going from sea level to 9,500 feet with near zero time to acclimate and the result was a win, a course record, and a pace of 8:45 per mile at 9,500 feet with over 4,000 feet of elevation gain. Overall, this felt like a psychological victory more than a physical victory, telling me I can go into any environment and compete. This was the exact type of mental race I needed as my next ultra, a backyard ultra in December on Long Island, beckons.

After the race, Cole and I took a photo together at the finish line and chatted with a few competitors, including Mikey Lightning, who had taken 3^rd, Parker Halcomb, who had taken 4^th, and Teri Copeland, who had hung on for 5^th, before we packed up to head back to Denver. Overall, this was an incredibly experience and a really well put together race by Revenant Running. The views were some of the most stunning I had ever seen in my life and while painful, I was glad to have been out there today to witness it and push my body.

The Vermont 100 - Race Report - 6th Overall

The Vermont 100 Endurance Race took place on July 19^th in beautiful West Windsor, Vermont. First run in 1989, the Vermont 100 is one of America's oldest 100-milers. It's also part of the Grand Slam of Ultrarunning (which includes Western States, Leadville, Wasatch, and Old Dominion) and the only remaining race of its kind to feature a concurrent horse competition. Vermont has always held a special place in my heart as my family has owned land in the state for decades, and I have been running on its dirt roads nearly as long as I have been a runner. I could think of no place better or more meaningful to me to take my next shot at finishing one hundred miles.

Elevation Profile!

The week began with my fiancé, Charlotte, and I heading up to our house in Western Vermont near Manchester on Tuesday evening, where we were joined by my two brothers on Thursday morning who had driven up from Boston. My brother, Cole, who had flown in from Boulder, Colorado, would be pacing me for the last thirty miles of the race. On Friday mid-day, we set off for West Windsor for the bib pick-up and mandatory runner meeting at the race start at Silver Hill Meadow. The thing I love about ultrarunning is that it is such a small, tight-knit community where pretty much everyone knows everyone. It took me less than five minutes after arriving before I ran into a friend I had met at Cayuga Trails 50 at the end of May, Greg Panowicz, who had flown in from Georgia. We chatted for a few minutes and discussed goals before I went to check-in. After check-in, I ran into another good friend, Kris Mack, the both of us having been competing on the same racing circuit, having first met him at the NYC Trail Mix 50K last November, and then back at Cayuga in May as well. After the pre-race meeting my crew and I headed back to the Airbnb we were staying in, a gorgeous farmhouse, about ten minutes from the start and located at about Mile 84 on the course. It was perfectly located to support my crew as they would be seeing me five times from Mile 70 to the Finish. I wish I could have enjoyed it a bit more, but after laying out all of my gear and delivering an expert crew meeting, I was off to bed at 8:30 PM, bracing for that early alarm.

Bib Pick-Up

The shrill sound of my alarm woke me up at 2:40 AM. By far the earliest I have ever gotten up for a race. I normally do not get much sleep before a big ultra and today was no exception. I was extremely grateful that my entire crew decided to pile into the car with me at 3:15 AM, arriving at the start line at Silver Hills at 3:25 AM, and even more thankful that they were committed to staying through the race start. I ran into both Kris and Greg again and walked over to the start with Kris but continued to hover by my crew until about two minutes until the race started. Kris and I exchanged a couple words of encouragement before a ten second countdown began. As the clocked turned to 4:00 AM, we were off!

The culmination of more than six months of training begins with a single step as we quickly fork right onto a dirt road and hit a descent as we leave the start at Silver Hills. There is a known strategy at the Vermont 100 of banking time the first four hours of the race as the initial 25 miles is highly runnable and temperatures remain depressed. We were fortunate to have pretty exceptional weather for July, with a start temperature of 52 degrees and relatively muted humidity. I debated with myself all week as to how I wanted to approach this first section of the race, where the temperature would stay below 60 degrees until about 8:00 AM before rising rapidly and pushing up to a peak of 81 degrees later in the day. I was torn between putting myself in the mix from the beginning and banking time versus running more conservatively based on feel. In the end, I let the ego go and decided to run my own race.

Race Bib!

Our descent slowly levelled out and then turned into a climb as my watch clicked off the first mile. Only ninety-nine more to go, I thought to myself. I quickly found myself in about 25^th place by the second mile as people began to settle in to their positioning as we turned right onto a double track trail. The Vermont 100 features approximately 68 miles of dirt roads, 30 miles of horse/ATV trails, and two miles of pavement. As we began another descent I was greeted by not one, but two familiar faces, as I found myself running with both Kris and Greg for the next two miles as we chatted about goals, with Kris targeting a 22–24-hour finish and Greg targeting 20-22 hours. While I did have some target time goals of my own, I had gotten a lot of support and feedback from friends to leave the numbers on my wrist and out of my head, and that was probably one of the best things I could have done. Having tried and failed at this distance twice before at Ghost Train Trail Races in New Hampshire, my number one priority was just to focus on finishing. I lost Kris and Greg at about Mile 5 as Kris fell back a bit and Greg moved ahead. From Mile 5-8, we hit a 700-foot climb up Densmore Hill Road as the first rays of sunlight were beginning to poke out over the hill. This was also where I started to pull back a few of the early speedsters and move up a couple positions, though I had lost track of what place I was in. At the top of the incline, I  reached the first unmanned aid station at Mile 7.4, Densmore Hill, before continuing up the climb. As an aside, the Vermont 100 is perhaps one of the most densely supported hundred milers I have ever seen with 25(!) aid stations throughout the course. Not counting the first aid station, only three stations are five or more miles apart and only eight are more than four miles apart.

After leaving Densmore Hill, I definitely hit a very early low point around Mile 10, working my way up a three-hundred-foot climb as I momentarily let the enormity of the task overwhelm me a bit, fixating on the fact that I still had ninety miles to go. Thankfully, I was saved by a 900-foot descent from Miles 11-15 that allowed me to turn my brain of a bit and settle into more of a rhythm as I passed the second unmanned aid station, Dunham Hill, and headed to the first real supported aid station at Taftsville Bridge. By now, runners were starting to space out more as I was stalking down a runner named Jenny Hoffman on the descent. I would later learn that Jenny was a three-time USATF 24 Hour National Champion from 2014-2016 and last year set the women’s world record for a transcontinental run across the United States in 47 days. Needless to say, she was a beast of a runner! I caught Jenny towards the bottom of the descent as we hit the flat and turned left, entering the aid station at Taftsville Bridge at Mile 15.5 together.

Taftsville Bridge – Mile 15.5, 16^th Place, 2:18:49 Total Time, 8:57 Average Pace

I spent less than a minute in Taftsville Bridge, quickly refilling one of my bottles with water, grabbing a handful of potato chips, and then filling the other bottle with Skratch High-Carb, which I quickly regretted. There wasn’t anything wrong with the Skratch High-Carb per say, and when I had tried it yesterday at the race check-in, I was surprised how much it tasted like water, but there is definitely a difference between trying something at an expo and during a race. As I watched it drip from the jug, coming out in a slow sludge, I knew it was going to be a tough swallow. Still, the sport of ultrarunning is changing, and you almost have to have as strong a stomach as you do legs. Gone are the days past of taking in 25-50 grams of carbs an hour. The prevailing wisdom now seems to be taking in as many carbs as you can stomach, with elites often pushing over 100 grams an hours. For this race, my plan was to fuel as aggressively as possible early on, targeting 90-95 grams an hour, which I knew would probably taper off to 65-75g mid-race and probably 40-50g by the end. I was wearing my Salomon Adv Skin 12 running vest with one 500ml bottle filled with water and the other with a 50g concentration of Tailwind, of which I had extras packets in my vest, and planned to alternate those with the high-carb Skratch (100g per 500ml) and the normal Skratch (25g per 100ml) at aid stations. I would also be taking Gu Energy Chews, with the goal of consuming one pack, containing 48g of carbs, an hour. Even with a decade of ultrarunning experience under my belt, I have still been going through trial and error on my fueling and only have figured out this past year that a lower concentrated Tailwind in conjunction with gummies seems to work best for combatting palette fatigue for me. Finally, I had planned to use Gu Drink Tabs to supplement my electrolytes and sodium level throughout the day, but I found them strangely unpalatable and fizzy as I only used one of them around this time before ditching them for the rest of the race.

Back to the race, as Jenny left the aid station even quicker than I did as I caught back up to her a few minutes later. What goes down in ultras must come up, as we would be ascending another 900-foot climb over the next five miles. I was starting to feel good for the first time in the race as I went by Jenny and focused on the several runners up ahead of me. Half way through the climb I hit the next unmanned aid station at Mile 17.5, South Pompret, as we turned and entered another steep section of ATV trails, which traversed us over to another dirt road section. About three hours into the race, I was thankful the conditions were still quite cool as I hit an exposed section of road, which turned flat after cresting out a brief climb. This flat road continued as I ran into the first-crewed aid station at Mile 21.5, Pretty House.

Pretty House – Mile 21.5, 12^th Place, 3:14:04 Total Time, 9:01 Average Pace

I quickly rolled through Pretty House feeling fantastic, perhaps the best I ended up feeling all day. Despite being a crewed aid station, I decided before the race that I was not going to have my crew meet me here. They had already graciously woken up at 3:00 AM for the start and were already going to be following me all day, likely as I barked commands about what I needed later on at the following crewed aid stations, so I determined I could run self-supported through the first two crewed aid-stations. The first 47 Miles of the Vermont 100 are pretty much one very big loop, and Pretty House is located at nearly the northernmost point of the course, so I decided to let my crew catch-up on their sleep rather than meet me 20 miles north of the start at 7:00 AM, knowing they had an equally long day of crewing and pacing ahead. Leaving Pretty House, we hit a brief stretch of pavement as I caught sight of Greg at Mile 22, in what was to be the theme of the day. I spent the next two miles slowly reeling Greg and another runner in, finally making connection right at Mile 24. Greg looked fantastic when I saw him and seemed to be in pretty high spirits as I also met his friend Lukas Burrer, who was a Moab 240 finisher last year. I spent a few minutes chatting with Greg and Lukas, who were way ahead of their goals as we were still on just over fifteen-hour pace at that point, with Greg saying, “have a great rest of your race”, (wrongfully) implying we wouldn’t see each other again, as I began to pull a bit ahead.

Climb After U-Turn Chasing
Greg and Lukas

For whatever reason though, I hit another early low-point here as we had just finished a nearly 500-foot climb as the temperatures were starting to rise. A moderate descent took me down to the next unmanned aid station at Mile 25.5, U-Turn, as Greg and Lukas caught up with me and pulled ahead. I caught back up as we hit more horse trail, the three of us switching leads every two minutes or so and joking about how we still had not seen any horses. For the first time in the day, my quads were starting to feel bad early as the trail continued to wind and climb before we turned off and hit an exposed grass field, which opened up at the top to a breathtaking nearly 360-degree view. Greg and Lukas had put nearly a minute on me as I struggled up the climb, but I had mapped out the major climbing and descending sections before the race and knew that I had an 800-foot descent from Mile 28-30 as we would work our way down to the next crewed aid station at Stage Rd. The descent, which was almost entirely shaded, was a welcome relief from the building heat. Greg and Lukas remained in eyesight as I began to feel the presence of another runner behind me as I turned right on to a dirt road before another quick left into the Stage Rd aid station.

Stage Rd – Mile 31.2, 10^th Place, 4:46:57 Total Time, 9:12 Average Pace

The goal for the day at aid stations was grab and go, do not linger. Refuel water, refuel hydration mix, grab a handful of food, and then go. I left the aid station before Greg and Lukas and immediately hit a gnarly 500-foot ATV trail climb as I was joined by the runner I had previously sensed behind me, Parley Hannan. A 2:33 marathoner and Olympic Trials Qualifier, Parley was running her first one hundred mile but was no stranger to long distance races. As we chatted for a few minutes she had told me about how she had recently completed the Speed Project, an underground foot race starting at the beachfront of Santa Monica and finishing in Las Vegas. She completed the 340-mile race, which is normally a relay, solo. The conversation was welcome relief from one of the major climbs I had marked out in my notes, as this section went by much quicker than expected. I ended up briefly dropping Parley at the top of the climb as a short section of winding singletrack took me to a nice shaded 400-foot descent. The bottom of the hill took a sharp right and then a sharp left as the next manned aid station Route 12, at Mile 34.4, came into view ahead.

Route 12 – Mile 34.4, 7^th Place, 5:21:53 Total Time, 9:21 Average Pace

I definitely let the next two miles get to me as I continued my low point that had begun back at Mile 24 as Parley had caught back up to me at the aid station and then swiftly left me in the dust. I needed the next three miles to regroup, knowing that one of the toughest sections of the course, a nearly nine-hundred-foot climb, from Miles 38-42 was coming up. Thankfully, we had a gradual descent on dirt road for this next portion, and I rolled into the next Aid Station at Lincoln Covered Bridge at Mile 39.4 feeling much better. A lot of the aid stations had themes with fun signs and this one’s was “Monsters”. As an aside, every single aid station I went to was fantastic and I can’t thank all of the volunteers and Vermont Adaptive enough! The aid stations were well stocked, with volunteers immediately on your needs as soon as you arrived. I was thankful to hit this aid station as it was one of the more spaced-out ones at more than five miles since the last station at Route 12. I spent maybe an extra minute here taking in more water and some salted potatoes. As I left to tackle the next inclined section, the volunteers told me that I was looking great.

Lincoln Covered Bridge – Mile 39.4, 8^th Place, 6:13:26 Total Time, 9:29 Average Pace

The first two miles of this climb were relatively tame and well shaded as I began to see the 100K runners, who had started at 9:00 AM for the first time. They took a seven mile stretch from the start at Silver Hill Meadows over to Lincoln Covered Bridge and would then follow the hundred mile course for the rest of their run, so it would be a consistent theme that even though the hundred mile runners were beginning to space out that I would have 100K runners throughout the day as little targets, both to chase and as confidence markers on the course directions, not that they were needed however, as this course is exceptionally well marked. I cannot fathom the logistical challenges of placing yellow plates with arrows nearly every tenth to quarter of a mile or so but shout out to race director Amy Rusiecki and the amazing volunteers because you couldn’t have asked for a better marked course. As I continued up the climb, I could feel my sixth sense kicking in again that there was another runner behind me. Expecting Greg and Lukas, it was actually Jenny Hoffman who had caught up. She passed me right as we entered an extremely steep, and hot, exposed climb up a grass hill and proceeded to absolutely dust me. Thankfully, the next unmanned aid station at Mile 41.8, Barr House, was at the top of this climb as I was desperate for water. At this point, the biggest thing keeping me going was the fact that I was less than six miles from Camp 10 Bear, the biggest aid station on the course, which I would pass through twice, and was the first place that I would get to see my crew.

However, first I had to get thought Lillians at Mile 44.9. A nice two-mile descent was a welcome relief after the relentless climbing as I turned right onto the pavement. The next three quarters of a mile was probably the most extended pavement section of the race as Lillians aid station was right at the beginning of the final climb before I would descent down into Camp 10 Bear. As I began to enter Lillians I looked behind me to see that Greg had closed down on me again and was about 45-60 seconds back.

Lillians – Mile 44.9, 8^th Place, 7:06:01 Total Time, 9:29 Average Pace

Crew Waiting at Camp 10 Bear!

Greg and I left the aid station together, each checking in on how the other was doing. Greg looked strong overall but said he was beginning to feel the ever-increasing burn in his quads just as I was. We continued to play leapfrog, as I moved ahead again as we continued to climb up the pavement before hitting a short stretch of trail that connected to our descent into Camp 10 Bear. This descent worked me out of another short low spot I had hit coming out of Lillans as I was absolutely ecstatic at the thought of seeing my crew and was exactly what I needed to get in the right headspace, especially at a critical junction as the first pass through Camp 10 Bear is almost exactly half-way through the race. A few miles ago, I had begun framing to myself mentally that I now had fewer miles to run solo than I did with my brother, Cole, who I would pick up at Mile 69. Finally, I rolled into Camp 10 Bear feeling great and got a number of comments about how fresh I looked. Camp 10 Bear is sponsored by the Trail Animals Running Club (TARC), whose races I used to run more frequently earlier in my ultra career when I lived outside of Boston. In fact, iRunFar just ranked Camp 10 Bear as the sixth most legendary aid station in all of ultra running!

Camp 10 Bear #1 – Mile 47.6, 8^th Place, 7:47:15 Total Time, 9:49 Average Pace

Camp 10 Bear at Mile 47.6!

My crew let out a big cheer when they saw me as they quickly went to work on me like it was a NASCAR pit stop. They refilled both my bottles as I put on a bit more sunscreen and bug spray and grabbed the additional fuel package I would need for the next twenty-two miles. At this point, I had begun to put ice in my HOKA hat at every aid station as my brother, Trevor, slapped a big, fat cold towel around my neck, which was exactly what I needed. I left Camp 10 Bear with a renewed sense of energy as I told my crew I would see them in a few hours and for my brother, Cole, to get ready to run! The next mile and a half were slightly downhill but in the exposed sun as I began making my way out to the next major aid station at Margaritaville at Mile 58.8, which would also mark the turn-around point of the loop back to Camp 10 Bear. Coming off the flat, I was hit with another massive climb going up 550 feet in only three quarters of a mile. Thankfully I have put in a lot of work on the treadmill doing prolonged runs at 8-12% grade so this was exactly what I had trained for. Still, that doesn’t make it any easier, especially at Mile 50 with the full might of the sun shining down on you. At the very precipice of the climb, I was offered lemonade by a young girl, which I had to sadly decline as I think it would have come right back up. I’m not sure how many takers she ended up getting but know the offer was appreciated. Shortly after the top of the hill, I rolled into the next aid station, Pinky’s, at Mile 50.7, for a much needed refuel.

From Pinky’s, we took a left past a cemetery and then moved on to Town Farm Road, which was a gradual uphill that would take me to the next aid station, Birmingham. I could again feel the presence of Greg behind me as he eventually came up to overtake me. It may have been this time, or it may have been some time later in the race, but he jokingly said, “how many times are we going to pass each other” and I said “at least one more” as he went by me. Greg put a tiny gap on me on the climb as we began to approach Birmingham at Mile 54.2. Generally, Greg had been spending a little bit longer than me at the aid stations, so despite coming in after him, I left before him after quickly refilling my bottles and grabbing more ice. At this point, I was starting to ditch the Tailwind, which was not suiting me extremely well, and using the races Skratch mixture instead. I was still taking my gummies religiously, with 24g of carbs every thirty minutes, so I was still getting in 60-70g of carbs an hour.

Birmingham’s – Mile 54.2, 8^th Place, 9:05:45 Total Time, 10:04 Average Pace

From Birmingham’s we shot through an open field, which was actually flat and not uphill for a change, and entered more ATV trail. The trail was also flat here, but the deer flies were unrelenting, the worst they got all day as I began using my hat as an extremely ineffective weapon. Greg had again come up on me and gone by, but this time I was able to keep him in my sight as the trail turned left onto a steep dirt road descent. I knew we had a climb into Margaritaville, but this section of the course, between the relentless climbs, the deer flies, and the sun at near peak was absolutely brutal. I was desperate to get to the next aid station and begin running back to Camp 10 Bear. I lost contact with Greg as I watched him slowly form an increasing gap as the climb went on. A Leadville 100 finisher last year in twenty-three hours, it didn’t shock me in the slightest that Greg was a strong climber and he was consistently gapping me here all day. After nearly a two-mile climb I finally rolled into Margaritaville at Mile 58.8.

Margaritaville – Mile 58.8, 9^th Place, 9:57:56 Total Time, 10:10 Average Pace

It was absolutely fantastic to get into Margaritaville and see a Connecticut contingent at the aid station. Brian Vanderheiden, the race director of the Steep Endurance race series, gave me some words of encouragement as I left. As a side note, Brian and Steep Endurance put on some incredible races in Connecticut and do a lot of good for the local ultrarunning community. I had the privilege of running the Sleeping Giant Trail Runs 50K in March in Hamden, Connecticut during my build-up for Vermont and it was a world-class event on an absolutely gnarly course.

Cole Ready to Pace!

I left Margaritaville with Greg still being tended to by his crew, as I had told my crew to just meet me back at Camp 10 Bear so that I could give them some time to recharge for the final thirty-mile blitz through four different aid stations and so that my brother was prepared to run and could fuel before his own not-insignificant run today pacing me. Another big climb awaited after Margaritaville, a culmination of the nine-hundred-foot ascent that had begun after the descent from Birmingham’s. I was able to fend off Greg on this next two-mile section which was a nice descent down to the Puckerbrush aid station as I passed sixty miles on my watch, but I felt like my climbing legs were beginning to go as Greg went by me again. In the back of my mind, I was fairly certain that this was going to be the last time I saw him as his gap grew as we began yet another long climb. Looking back in my notes for Mile 60-65 I put “Rolling (+0 ft)” but that was because we had a long descent followed by a long climb and I think not calling out the 450-foot climb from Mile 61-64 hurt me as this was another low point for me. Still, my motto at this point was “Survive to 65”, the location of the Brown School House aid station. From here, there would be an 800-foot descent over three miles before a short incline back to Camp 10 Bear. I moved into Brown School House tired but motivated to get out of there quickly and back to my crew.

Leaving Brown School House I hit a short stretch of ATV trail that connected me to the dirt roads as the long descent began. Overall, I seemed to be moving my best on slight uphill or slight downhill terrain, with the sharper inclines and descents really punishing my quads. A 450-foot descent at Mile 67 confirmed that as I only managed to muster a 10:32 Mile there. As the road began to level out, I spotted the left hand turn that completed our loop and would take me back to Camp 10 Bear. After a quick ascent, I was on flat roads as I could hear the roar of the aid station approaching and my turnover began to quicker as I neared my crew. This moment was perhaps the best I had felt since the first time through Camp 10 Bear, and I was running on a high, knowing I had a pacer through the finish.

Camp 10 Bear #2 – Mile 69.7, 9^th Place, 12:08:33 Total Time, 10:27 Average Pace

Leaving Camp 10 Bear at Mile 69.7!

Like the first time around through Camp 10 Bear, my crew went to work. They refilled both my bottles, got ice in my hat, a cold, wet towel around my neck, and then helped me as I changed from my HOKA Speedgoat 6’s to the HOKA Tecton X3, a trail shoe with a carbon plate, to finish. As a side note, this really feels like the first year I nailed my race gear. I have been running primarily in the Speedgoat 6’s with a short sleeve HOKA aerolite shirt and Nike half tights and the combination has worked really well for me and held up all day without issue. I left Camp 10 Bear with a renewed sense of purpose, telling my brother and my crew “Lets get it done!”.

Sadly, my runners high lasted all of about five minutes. I knew we had an 800-foot climb shortly after Camp Bear 10, but what I didn’t know was that it was on extremely steep, rugged near single-track trail as we climbed nearly 600 feet in one mile. This really took the wind out of my sails and zapped my energy. Additionally, the heat of the day had reached its crescendo. The only thing that saved me as we hit more uphill in the exposed sun was that we were beginning to come up on another hundred-mile runner and their pacer, the first hundred-mile runner besides Greg I had seen in nearly thirty miles. Cole and I tried to make a concerted pass, but we were not initially able to shake them. The dirt road transitioned into more horse trail, this time steep and windy as I took my first and only digger of the race. I feel like I left time on the table in this type of terrain late in the race so definitely something to troubleshoot in the future. We hopped off the trail and went back on to the dirt road, having squarely dropped the other runner. I could feel the heat finally beginning to fade a bit, but the sun was still out in force as Cole, and I missed a left hand-turn back into the trails shortly after the unmanned aid station at Seabrook at Mile 74.1 and had to double back after being blinded by the sun on an incline. We stuck on this winding trail for about a mile or so before popping out into the road and up a hill leading to the next crewed Aid Station, Spirit of 76, at Mile 76.6.

Spirit of 76 – Mile 76.6, 9^th Place, 13:40:05 Total Time, 10:42 Average Pace

Spirit of 76 Aid Station!

My crew saw me before I saw them as I heard them cheering up ahead. The crew stop had now become a ritual, refill the bottles, ice in the hat, cold towel on the neck, handful of food, and then we were off. This next section to Bill’s was only eleven miles but would be the longest I would see my crew again before the finish. However, it was going to be a net downhill with only one significant climb. As we crossed through a grass field and back into the woods, I remarked to Cole that we had now gone further than I ever had before, and I was feeling great. We hopped back off of the trail on to a very nice runnable gradual descent, as Cole and I lasered in on what we suspected was another hundred-mile runner about a minute up ahead. The heat was beginning to dissipate, and Cole and I took advantage of this section, running every step of the next three miles as we caught up to and then passed the runner and pacer, moving into sixth place male. We thought we had another hundred-mile runner in our sight as we pushed on a short incline up to the unmanned aid station at Goodman’s at Mile 80.5, but it turned out to be a pair of 100K runners working together.

After the aid station, we hopped back on the trail. My running mantra had been, get through the 40s, then it was get through the 50s, then the 60s, then the 70s. At least when we hit 80 miles it was beginning to feel less daunting, as I tried to envision it like being at Mile 6 of a marathon, with twenty miles to go. As we hit Mile 82 on the way to Cow Shed, I was now on a familiar part of the course as we were on Silver Hill Road, literally running away from the finish line at Silver Hill Meadows as we were beginning the final portion of the loop. We rolled into Cow Shed at Mile 83.5, and the theme was, you guessed it, cows, with the aid station captain decked out in a full cow onesie. Cole and I made quick work at this aid station as I really wanted to take advantage of the runnable sections we were on and to try and get as far as possible before we needed our headlamp.

Leaving Cow Shed, we crested a moderate climb and were met with an absolutely stunning view of the valley at near sunset. We took a quick right and then a quick left and continued a moderate descent on our way to Bill’s passing by about half a mile from where our Airbnb was, knowing, that if all went well, I could be back there in just a few hours. Cole and I were still clicking off sub-10-minute miles at this point, which was great as I was beginning to slow on the hills. After the descent, we crossed over an intersection and then took a right hand turn into a steep climb that would take us up to Bill’s. About a half mile from Bill’s the climb tapered off into flat as we came up quickly on a runner that looked to be badly limping. This turned out to be Parley, who I had run with way back at Mile 31, who up until about Cow Shed looked like she had been running mid seventeen-hour pace but seemed to be struggling with an injury and would later drop. We tried to give some words of encouragement as we passed and moved into Bill’s at Mile 88.6.

Bill’s  – Mile 88.6, 7^th Place, 15:49:39 Total Time, 10:43 Average Pace

Leaving Bill's Feeling Strong.

I was fired up to see my crew at Bill’s knowing there was a little bit more than eleven miles to the finish. We had arrived so fast that they had only got there minutes before and I turned out of Bill’s so quickly that I left Cole behind as he was refilling his bottle. I didn’t get any ice this time or a cold towel, but at this point my crew was more moral support if anything as I could begin to feel the finish. Cole caught back up as we entered a short section of trail and had to briefly flick on our headlamps, but this was short lived as the trail winded before opening up into a stretch of rolling grass field. The splits might not show it, but I was absolutely flying on this section of the course as I could feel the end in sight and knew I was pushing up on a time in the low eighteen hours. Still, my overzealousness was tampered by a not so friendly reminder from the course that there were still some hills to be run. Nothing like a 400-foot climb at Mile 90 to remind you that you still have some suffering to do. At the top of the climb, Cole and I entered Keating’s, the second to last aid station at Mile 91.5, as the aid station volunteers tried to unsuccessfully pawn off grilled cheese and pasta to both of us. I grabbed more water and Skratch and was still taking my gummies, though I had probably cut down at this point to a third to half of the intake, knowing it wouldn’t matter terribly at this point.

The next two miles were flat to gradual downhill as we had to finally flick our headlamps on permanently around Mile 92. We then had a long climb in the dark up toward the final aid station at Polly’s as I tried to moderate my effort but was getting frustrated by an inability to decipher how long and how steep the climb ahead was, which turned out to be really long and really steep when you are at Mile 93 and Mile 94 of a hundred! Right at the top of this climb, we hit Polly’s with its giant pink neon illuminated sign and my crew cheering me on.

Polly’s  – Mile 95.5, 7^th Place, 17:10:42 Total Time, 10:48 Average Pace

Last Aid Station at Polly's.

I was in and out of Polly’s in under a minute, again leaving Cole behind as we set off on the final miles. I was trying to not burn my match until the last possible moment, but we had closed in on a finish time range and I was looking like I was going to be a hair over eighteen hours. The next two miles were flat to gradual downhill as I studied my watch and started doing calculations. With about three miles to go and 32 minutes to spare, I told my brother that we were going for it and began gunning for sub 18 hours. I quickly kicked up my pace to 8:30’s as I tried to claw as much time back on the downhill as possible. I didn’t know for certain, but race directors love to do this really sadistic thing where they like to make their long race finish with a soul sucking uphill. I was distinctly prepared for that possibility, but I told Cole we were going to try as long as we could. With a little over a mile to go, I came up on a pair of runners and was shocked to realize it was Greg and his pacer! It was the first time I had seen him since way back at about Mile 60. I heard from his pacer the next day that we were breathing so hard and moving so fast that they thought we were horses and moved out of the way. I later learned at the finish that this pass had moved me into 5^th Place Male and onto the podium, but honestly my only concern was the time, as we hit a one mile to go sign with a little over 11 minutes before the eighteen-hour mark. We were charging the uphill’s (of which almost the entire last mile was uphill) and power hiking like a maniac as my heart rate got the highest it had been since maybe Mile 30. Finally, like all things do, the uphill came to an end, as I watched my watch tick from three quarters a mile, to half a mile, and finally to a quarter mile to go as I could see the row of lanterns up ahead guiding to the finish. I pushed as hard as I could on the straightaway and finally, nearly eighteen hours later, crossed the finish line in 17:57:52, 6^th Place Overall, and 5^th Place Male.

Finish  – Mile 100.0, 6^th Place, 17:57:52 Total Time, 10:47 Average Pace

Finish!

After receiving a double high five from Race Director Amy Rusiecki, I embraced my crew and finally sat in a chair for the first time in eighteen hours. I continued to sit for a few minutes, waiting and cheering on Greg as he came in officially at 18:02:22. I gave Greg a hug after he crossed the finish line and we got a photo together as we exchanged congratulations. Greg ran a fantastic race (and way under the 20–22-hour goal he had told me at the start!) and I couldn’t have run the race I did without him pushing me all day. I hung around at the finish for another ten minutes or so before my crew supported me to the car and back to the house for some rest before we would be back at Silver Hill Meadows in the morning for belt buckle presentation.

The next morning was almost surreal arriving back at Silver Hill Meadows as I tried to come to terms with the enormity of the last thirty hours. As soon as I woke up at 6AM after pretty horrendous sleep, I immediately checked the results of people I knew, including Kris Mack, who also ran an incredible race to finish in 21:14:17, way below his goal of sub 24 hours! Additionally, a huge congratulations to many local Connecticut runners including Tom Starodaj and Marc Kelly (both running 19:37:38) and Lukas Burrer, Greg’s friend who I had met on the course, who finished in 21:54:56. After some announcements from Amy, the awards presentation began as I was called up for my 5^th Place podium finish to finally receive my first belt buckle.

Awards! Pictured: Justin Scheid (1st),
Tom Hanlon (2nd) and Conor Callahan (3rd)

I think there are very few moments in my life with as much meaning as crossing the finish line and then receiving that belt buckle the next morning. Finishing 100 Miles has been a goal of mine since almost the first day I began running, reading Ultramarathon Man by Dean Karnazes way back in 2009 as a twelve-year-old. Sixteen years later and a decade of competing in ultras, I had finally made that goal a reality. It took multiple attempts and the biggest difference for me this time was learning to embrace the pain and the suck. I had to want that feeling before I was finally able to accomplish this goal and I stood on the start line before the race, knowing I was going to, and had to suffer, and I never waivered all day on my commitment to getting it done.

I can’t thank Race Director Amy Rusiecki enough for putting on this fantastic event, which will always hold a place in my heart, and one that I am sure I will return to in the future. I also want to acknowledge and sincerely thank the Vermont Adaptive, whom this race supports, all the private land owners who make this race possible, all the volunteers who spend hours out there on the course, my amazing and incredible crew who I couldn’t have done this without, especially my brother Cole for pacing the last thirty miles, and finally to so many people back home in Stamford who I knew were watching and cheering me on.

I’m not sure what my next big goal is going to be right now, only that I need time to reflect and take it all in. One thing is for sure though, is that this has only fueled my fire to keep testing the limits of how far I can go.

Coveted Belt Buckle

Cayuga Trails 50 Mile - Race Report

The Cayuga Trails 50 by Red Newt Running took place on May 31^st outside of Ithica, New York at Robert H. Treman State Park. Known for its picturesque waterfalls and rocky gorges, the race has often been named as one of the most scenic courses in the country, and for good reasons. I had circled this event on my calendar back in January; the last big race effort in the build-up to the Vermont 100 seven weeks later in mid-July. Previously the USATF 50 Mile National Championship for a number of years, the race still brings out fantastic regional competition, which the UltraSignup entrants list most certainly confirmed. I was excited to see how I would stack up, with a goal of racing myself onto the podium and aiming for a time of 8:10 – 8:30, which historically had been good enough to do so.

Charlotte and I set off for Ithica, New York early Friday afternoon, our Great Pyrenees, Cooper, in the back seat in tow as we made our way up to nearby Van Etten where we would be stating. It was certainly a longer drive than I expected, but a little over four hours later we arrived at our Airbnb, a three hundred square foot “tiny house” we would be staying in for the next two nights. After heating up our dinner and watching a short movie, it was off to bed, bright and early for the 6AM race start.

Tiny House in Van Etten!

I woke up at 4:15 AM the next morning and quickly consolidated my race gear, which I had expertly laid out the night before. Charlotte had graciously agreed to drop me off at the race, before she set off to enjoy her morning in Ithica, as we loaded into the car, and I reached the park at about 5:15 AM. After a quick goodbye, I began making my way to the start line. A sign of what I knew was to come, the race required an approximately 200-foot climb from the parking area to reach the start line. The next forty-five minutes went by in a flash as I picked up my race bib, hit the bathroom, took some pre-race nutrition, and double checked my gear before we began lining up at the start a few minutes to six. I briefly caught up with a friend, Kris Mack, who I had meet six months at the NYC Trail Mix 50K, who was also running the fifty miler. A fantastic runner in his own right, he would also be lining up to take on the Vermont 100 later in the summer as well. We stood on the line, with a few quick words from the race director, and then we were off!

I thought for sure this race was going to go out blazing fast, but instead the first two minutes of the race were quite strange, as we languished in a pack of about nine people wide, waiting to see who was willing to take off first. The answer was Luke Tighe, a phenomenal college athlete out of Viriginia, who had won the Promise Land 50K++ the prior month and who was making his 50 Mile debut. I knew he had some serious wheels, with a sub-15-minute 5K to his name, and that he would be tough to beat if he had a great day. I quickly watched Luke disappear from the rest of us as our pack splintered a quarter mile into the race as the trail got a little bit tighter. It was going to be strange weather for what was effectively a June race, with temperatures in the upper 40s, light rain and clouds, and a wind chill that pushed down to 35 degrees at its peak. As a result, it was surprisingly dark on the trail early, which resulted in an uncharacteristic early fall from me about a mile in on a fairly non-technical trail, both my water bottles on my Salomon ADV12 vest flying out onto the trail. At least I got that out of the way early, I said to the runner who had helped me catch my flying bottles. I was currently running in 5^th place as we tackled the first section of the two loop course, which was a ten mile counterclockwise circuit around Treman State Park which would take us back to the start line, the Y Camp Aid Station, before we would embark on a fifteen mile lollipop loop through Buttermilk Falls State Park, arriving back at Y Camp Aid Station, before repeating it all over again. It didn’t take long in to the race at all for the course to bring out the first of its signature stairs, which helped to make portions of the jagged gorges scalable. I was being very cautious early not to blow up my quads redlining what effectively felt like working a stair stepper machine. We continued to work our way out into Treman State Park running by humongous flowing waterfalls that felt otherworldly. Having just returned from a trip to Iceland the prior week, I felt like I was right back there. As I continued to settle into the first part of the race, I began to slowly work my way up to Cole Johnson and Greg Panowicz around the fourth mile, gaining and losing ground depending on how we all navigated the precipitous stair inclines and declines. At this point, the trail widened out a bit as we made a short descent towards the Treman Meadows Aid Station as I locked on to Cole and Greg.

Treman Meadows – 1 – Mile 4.0, 4^th Place, 38:09 Total Time, 9:32 Average Pace

Waterfalls on the Gorge Trail!

After a quick stop to refuel my Tailwind and water, we next entered an open grass field that would loop us back onto the aptly named Gorge Trail, making our way back to the Y Camp Aid Station. It was around this field that I went by Cole, who I later learned was dealing with some early nausea, as I stayed on Greg’s heels. After leaving the field we trekked back up the way we had just come, passing runners heading down to the aid station and field loop. Greg and I worked the next two or three miles together, exchanging a few brief chats, with Cole moving a few seconds back of us, as we made our way on a trail offshoot that would loop us back around to Y Camp. Around Mile 7, I lost Greg going up one of the major climbs on this section of the course. After the climb, I entered a stretch of very runnable, rolling trail, the first time so far during the race where I felt I was beginning to enter a rhythm. The trail provided some nice coverage from the light rain that was coming down. Thankfully, the wind had not yet picked up on the day yet, and while it was a little wet, the weather was largely comfortable. As I continued to make my way back to the Y Camp Aid Station, I got the sense that I was being tracked down. We ultrarunners tend to have this sixth sense, where we can just tell if someone is closing in or coming up on us. I whipped my head back expecting it to be Cole or Greg, but instead it was Justin Lewandowski hot on my heels about ten seconds back and charging quick. I knew he was going to be a formidable competitor today and figured it was only going to be a matter of time before our paths crossed, literally. Despite it being fairly early in the race, I made a concerted effort on the winding singletrack trails to avoid being passed and to go into the next aid station with some momentum. Finally, we popped out of the woods and made a sharp left turn, arriving back at the Y Camp Aid Station with Justin a few seconds behind me.

Y-Camp – 1 – Mile 10.3, 2^nd Place, 1:37:05 Total Time, 9:26 Average Pace

Ascent Back to Y-Camp

I tried to make my pit stop at Y-Camp quick, both to see if I could put a little bit of transition time on Justin, as well as to prevent Cole and Greg from reconnecting with us. As such, I refilled my Tailwind and water, quickly grabbed a handful of potato chips, and then I was off. As I was leaving, Cole and Greg were just coming in and I reckon that I ended up putting back forty-five seconds on Justin here as I began the Buttermilk Falls State Park Loop. Inquiring about Luke at the aid station, he was already well and away having built up about a six-minute gap through the first ten miles. The next mile of single track took me down a steady decline which then opened up into a road crossing and a grass field path as we made the traverse from Treman State Park to Buttermilk Falls. Cayuga Trails features four crossings of the same stream throughout the race, at Mile 12, 24, 37, and 49, and I was quickly coming up on the first crossing. Normally, I have been told, the stream crossing is a little over ankle level, but with the myriad of rain the Northeast has been having, along with the cooler than normal days, the stream crossing was moving fairly quickly and quite deep. I plunged into the stream, which went up nearly to the mid-point of my thighs as I fought against the current, being cautious as not to misstep and bring my whole body down. My shoes were obviously soaked but I had brought a spare pair of socks to switch out between loops to hopefully stay a bit drier. Leaving the stream crossing, I took a sharp right turn and began a nearly 650 foot, two-mile-long switchback climb. I could sense Justin had begun to close back in as I tracked him through the sides of my eyes as he stalked me down on the switchbacks. I finally crested at the top, around Mile 13, with Justin now right behind me. We exchanged a few brief words before he finally passed hard. I stayed connecting with him for a minute as we hit a brief stretch of road before making a left hand turn into more grass path fields. The rain was beginning to do some damage to this stretch of the course, where water was pooling in the low spots of the grass, and I tried to push out of my mind what this section would look like the second time around after several hundred runners, and a couple more hours of wet conditions had passed. Despite pulling ahead, I was able to keep Justin in my sight for the most part as we made a few steep punctuated climbs before descending into the next aid station, Buttermilk.

Buttermilk – 1 – Mile 15.4, 3^rd Place, 2:27:27 Total Time, 9:34 Average Pace

Stream Crossing!

I rolled out of Buttermilk quickly after refilling both my bottles and grabbing more chips. It seemed that Justin was spending more time at the aid stations, so he was just leaving as I was coming in, but by the time I had left he was out of sight. We would now be tackling a five-mile loop that would take us back to the Buttermilk Aid Station before another five-mile section to the start line. The last ten miles of each loop were perhaps the most runnable of the day as I started off down a flat road section that transitioned into a prolonged moderate descent along a dirt fire road, allowing me to open up my stride and stretch down to a 7:34 Mile 17. Dipping down to a low-point on the course, I was hit with another prolonged single-track trail climb that gained approximately 350 feet over a mile and then featured some tight switchbacks descending along the backside of the hill and which connected me with a short, flat road stretch along the Buttermilk Falls Camp Access Road as I made my way over to one of the marquee climbs of the race alongside Buttermilk Falls itself. It was at this point that I crisscrossed Kris, who looked to be moving incredibly well, who was beginning the technical single-track climb approximately two miles back of me.  After leaving the road, I crossed over a short bridge, turned left, and was face to face with a daunting number of stairs and a precipitous climb to the top of Buttermilk Falls. With over five hundred feet of relentless climbing, the vast majority being stairs, I continued to tackle this section conservatively, but with purpose, trying to save my quads for what I knew would be a second ascent on the next loop, but this time at Mile 45. I wish I could have stopped to marvel at the beauty of the cascading waterfall, the carved stone steps I was tracing my feet over, and the otherwise otherworldly feeling the environment of the race conveyed, but I was still a man on a mission. Finally, I reached the top of Buttermilk Falls and hit a road crossing where I was told that I was approximately three minutes back from Justin, who was six minutes back from Luke. However, the climbing was not done, as the next mile returned to more single-track trail as I continued to climb and work my way back to the next aid station. Popping out into a grass field, I looped back to the Buttermilk Aid Station for the second of four times.

Buttermilk – 2 – Mile 20.7, 3^rd Place, 3:18:18 Total Time, 9:35 Average Pace

Leaving Buttermilk Aid Station I was feeling pretty strong. The rain that had punctuated the first several hours of the race was now beginning to subside, but I could feel the wind picking up, as we hit a long stretch of exposed road coming out of that aid station. I continued to climb up this road, barely catching a glimpse of Justin about a half mile ahead before he crested and was again out of sight. This road stretch forked left and then quickly forked left again, transitioning into a nice gradual downhill that was one of my fastest miles of the day so far at Mile 23 in 7:43. It was nice to turn my brain off, if only for a couple minutes, and allowed me to assess how I was feeling as I neared the halfway through the race. Overall, I was feeling quite strong, and my nutrition thus far in the race had been sound. I was trying out a slightly new nutrition strategy, with the goal to work out the kinks in advance of the Vermont 100. I had run the Bear Mountain 50K earlier in the month, on an exceptionally hot day, and really struggled with an overconcentrated drink mix, no standalone water, and Precision Fuel chews that I got sick of quite fast. For this race, I wanted to combat palette fatigue, so I was utilizing my Salomon Adv Skin 12 running vest, with 50g of Tailwind, supplemented with 15g of Precision Fuel chews an hour, and then approximately 30g of Gu Gummies. This strategy had worked quite well for me thus far, and I was well on pace with my target goal of approximately 75g of carbs per hour. Switching my brain back on as the road took a sharp turn back onto the trail, I hit a fairly aggressive section of switchback descents that I assumed was looping me along the backside of the climb off of the stream crossing. Sure enough, these switchbacks eventually transitioned into the open field as I made my way back to the stream crossing for the second time. At this point, I was crossing paths on the single track with the lead runners from the 50K, who had started one hour later, as I made my way on the last mile of the first loop which had a very sneaky two hundred plus foot climb. I hit Mile 25 on my watch, thinking I was going to come into the start area right under four hours, but the start line was still nowhere in sight, taking me another half mile or so before it finally came into view.

Y-Camp – 2 – Mile 25.5, 3^rd Place, 4:00:33 Total Time, 9:26 Average Pace

Second Time on Gorge Trail!

Overall, I came into Y-Camp at the halfway feeling strong, stopping to inquire about the positioning of Justin and Luke, not knowing how fragile my own position really was. I left after about a minute; with the knowledge that Justin was a few minutes ahead and Luke was approximately fifteen minutes ahead. Not fatal gaps, but likely insurmountable without a blow up by one of the two. I set off on the ten-mile counterclockwise circuit around Treman State Park for the second time, knowing that this would be a critical section of the race. This first loop was, in my opinion, moderately more difficult than the Buttermilk Falls loop, with its relentless stair inclines and descents. I was moving well as I approached a sharp staircase descent two miles into the loop, when catastrophe struck. The combination of the light rain throughout the morning and my muddy shoes created a slick descent without much support. Attempting to two-step the stairs like I had done the first loop led to a sudden and hard fall landing right onto my glute without any ability to brace. The pain was sharp, as I let out an audible expletive, and gathered myself to my feet, now covered in mud. The good news was that I was able to continue on, the bad news was that I was visibly slower than before as I attempted to massage out the pain and get my cadence and rhythm back. This led to my slowest GAP (grade adjusted pace) mile of the day at Mile 28 as I tried to regain my composition. I was now beginning to work my way down the doubletrack trail which dropped down to the Treman Meadows Aid Station for the second time.

Treman Meadows – 2 – Mile 29.8, 3^rd Place, 4:46:56 Total Time, 9:38 Average Pace

I left Treman Meadows quickly after I arrived, stopping only briefly to refill my water and Tailwind before setting off on the grass loop. I had this eerie feeling I was being tracked down, and the cheer from the aid station about a minute and a half after I left exasperated those fears. I tried to wait until the very end of the grass loop, but I could not reside peeking back, knowing in my heart I would be seeing Cole just behind me, which was one hundred percent the case. I figured I had a bit over a minute lead on him, but I knew that the way I was moving after the fall that it was inevitable he would catch up. And catch up he did. Much faster than I had anticipated as he went screaming up one of the sharpest inclines on the course as we came level with one another at Mile 31 for the first time since way back at Mile 8. Based on the way, he had caught up to me, I expected a full-throated hard pass near the top of the incline, which never materialized. Instead, we started chatting. I told him about my fall, and he told me about the early nausea that had been plaguing him for the first two hours of the race. We worked together for the next two miles, trading off the leads, but deep down I had this feeling he could drop me at any moment. I also started to feel like I was running his race and not necessarily my own. I was leading, but it was not my pace. At about Mile 33, after we had taken the trail offshoot that would loop us back to Y-Camp, I took a strategic bathroom break, hoping that I could give him some space and allow me to settle back into a rhythm. The ten second break on my end very quickly widened to a twenty-second gap as it seemed Cole took the opportunity to hammer the trail and put some (spoiler) permanent distance on me. I definitely laughed about it at that moment, because I almost certainly would have done the same thing, and while it was great to chatting with Cole, I was happy to regroup and run my own race. Despite the fall, my legs were feeling strong, and I was beginning to run with a little bit more authority again, as I navigated the winding singletrack trails for the next three miles before taking the sharp left turn back into Y-Camp for the third, and penultimate, time.

Y-Camp – 3 – Mile 35.9, 4^th Place, 5:49:42 Total Time, 9:44 Average Pace

Cobble Path Among the Waterfalls!

Cole was moving out Y-Camp fast as I was coming in, giving him about a minute lead as I tried to keep my stop snappy. I worked my way down the winding singletrack, dropping into the field trail as I made my way back over to the stream crossing. Maybe it was my now tired legs, but the stream certainly felt like it was a bit deeper as I battled across the current. The tiny mound we had to climb on the other side of the stream was now a straight mudslide as I grabbed onto a branch and hoisted myself up. I had gotten used to my wet feet at this point, resigning myself to this feeling for the rest of the race as I made my way back up the long switchback climb for the second time. What awaited me at the top, and for the next two miles, was an utter cacophony of mud. It seemed that through the hours of light rain, and the continued pounding of several hundred runners the grass trails, that they had been reduced to pure sludge. It was absolute, unavoidable carnage. I did my best to prevent myself from losing a shoe in the ankle-deep mud as each step felt painfully slow. I had hoped that this would be contained to the grass trails, which stretched about a mile before entering more single track on the way to Buttermilk Aid Station, but it was not to be. The mud in the singletrack trails was even more slick as I struggled to gain my footing. At this point, I was going out of my way to step in any little creek or water crossing I could find to clear the thick mud off of my shoes. While not my slowest stretch of miles, the five miles between Y-Camp and Buttermilk from Mile 35-40 felt endless as I left the singletrack, hit one sharper incline, and then dropped down into Buttermilk for the third time.

Buttermilk – 3 – Mile 41.0, 4^th Place, 6:45:03 Total Time, 9:53 Average Pace

Overall, I was feeling very solid at Buttermilk, much more so than ten miles ago, and continuing to move well and stay on top of my nutrition. I was very much looking forward to the next two-mile descent on the fire road, though there was to be no strong 7:34 Mile like the first time around. Looking back, this was certainly a point where I should have made up more time and likely lost some ground to Cole. After dipping back down to the low-point on the course, I again began what was the second to last big climb. I am not sure how I developed amnesia over the second half of the race, but I did not recall this climb being nearly as long or as steep as it was the first time around. Perhaps, all I had been thinking about was the painful ascent to come back up Buttermilk at Mile 45, and I had subconsciously pushed this climb out of my mind.  After ascending, I hit the sharp switchbacks again that brought me down to Buttermilk Falls Camp Access Road as I made my way to Buttermilk Falls for the last time. My legs were feeling surprisingly solid as I tackled the climb up Buttermilk, perhaps finally allowing myself to tap into some energy I had been reserving, knowing it was literally, pretty much all downhill from here. After an endless number of stairs, and navigating a number of runners from the 50K, I hit the top of Buttermilk Falls and hopped back on another mile of gradual ascent on the single track before hitting the grass field and arriving back at Buttermilk Aid Station for the last time.

Buttermilk – 4 – Mile 46.3, 4^th Place, 7:42:26 Total Time, 9:58 Average Pace

Finish!

I made my final aid station stop brief as I still had illusions of catching Cole, but these illusions were shattered when I turned on the straight stretch of road, which gave you a little bit more than a quarter mile of visibility, but I did not see him. Still, I was feeling strong and was going to make a concerted push to the line, hitting an 8:22 at Mile 48. I forked left on the last stretch of road and was hit with a large gust of wind. A reminder of just how strange the weather was for what was effectively a June race. This was perhaps the coldest I felt all race as I momentarily considered fishing my gloves out of my bag before deciding against it. Coming off the road, I again hit another set of steep switchbacks which would take me down to the flat grassland and the stream crossing. I was running into a number of 50K runners at this point, sometimes around two-foot-wide sections of trail, and was doing my best to navigate. I approached the stream crossing for the final time as I watched a 50K runner ahead slip on the mudslide of a descent and nearly go headfirst into the stream. Seeing this, I grabbed onto a branch and just saved myself from the same fate. Absolutely soaking wet would have been a choice for finishing this race. As I left the stream, I checked my watch as I approached fifty miles, knowing that I was going to be about a mile over, and that only one moderate climb stood between me and the finish. As I began the last mile, I marveled a bit at how good I had felt, which was a great confidence booster for Vermont 100 in a month and half. While I had certainly emptied the tank, I very much felt like I had a decent amount of run left in me before I would hit any type of death march. Finally, I ascended the last hill, hit a short stretch of flat singletrack, and then made the final sharp right turn, the finish line straight ahead. I crossed the finish line in 8:25:54, good enough for fourth place overall.

Finish – Y-Camp – 4 – Mile 51.1, 4^th Place, 8:25:54 Total Time, 9:54 Average Pace

After the race, I caught up with Luke, Justin, and Cole, who had finished first, second, and third, respectively. I had ended up only finishing about three and half minutes back of Cole, and I think he was quite shocked to see me come in so soon and thought I was a goner, which is not an unfair characterization based on how I was moving back at Mile 32. Overall, I was a bit disappointed not to podium here, but I lost to some absolutely fantastic regional class runners who all ran tremendously. At the end of day, I was quite happy with my time, which was the fastest non-podium time in seven years, so while I really did run a great race in my mind, I just got beat by three great runners, who, when I reviewed the UltraSignup list pre-race, knew where the ones who were going to beat me if I wasn’t on the podium. Waiting at the finish line for me as well were Charlotte and Cooper! After catching up with Luke, Justin, and Cole for a bit longer, the unusual May chill was starting to get to me, so I changed out my clothes and Charlotte, Cooper, and I made our way back to the car and back to “Tiny House”. Overall, I couldn’t recommend this race enough. From the runners, to the course, to the organization of the race, everything was absolutely top notch. While I think I will be a bit scared of stairs for a while, I certainly have this one on my list again, and it was the perfect final big race before Vermont 100 in seven weeks!