I didn’t have a chance to run the course before race day so I had to prepare my plan from race reports and anecdotal descriptions from my friends. I went up with a friend who was running the 70.5 and had run the entire length in several long runs. He described the topography as manageable and the terrain as very technical. You western ultra-guys will have to hold back laughter as you read on.

The start at Ohioplye is at 1200 feet. The first 8 miles are the hardest in terms of topography with three big climbs, which get you onto the ridge at 2700 feet. Once on the ridge it levels out with only minor 300 ft climbs along the ridge. (elevation profile: http://www.franusich.com/trails/lhht/lhprofile.html ) My plan was to take the first 10 miles conservatively at 5mph and cruise the second 10 at 6mph and then assess the situation. My long runs (about 27 miles) were run at 6.5mph but the topo and terrain were not as severe.

The start was normal for trail-ultras. A few cautionary notes about going out easy, some jokes in the group and then a count down. The group took off for the trail head down a gravel road, everyone knowing that the tight trail would make passing tough and would force the group to single file. The trail is gentle for the first mile and then gets steep. After running most of the first climb and decent, I yielded to the mountain and walked the second and third climbs and ran the downhill sections only. At this point I let four or five in the lead pack go as I fell back to a slower pace with another runner, content to save my energy and bide my time.

After getting onto the ridge I was definitely feeling it in my legs. The down hill sections are always hardest on your quads (eccentric loading) and my left hip flexor was tight. At this point I was running just ahead of another runner and we cruised along together through absolutely stunning forest scenes. The sun is completely broken up by the canopy above and the forest floor is covered in ferns and wild rhododendron and laurel. But the most breathtaking scenery are the rock formations: huge boulders as big as tractor-trailers line parts of the trail. In some places you’re running though a natural alleyway three feet wide with a 10’ shear face on either side of you. Absolutely stunning.

I’m sure the nature beyond the trail was even more beautiful but the trail itself was so technical that it was difficult to look at anything beyond the 20 feet of real estate directly in front of me. I looked down at my watch at the 10 mile mark and I was dead on a 5hr pace for the 50k and quite happy with how I felt. At the first aid station the volunteers said the next guy was about 5 minutes ahead. I quickly refilled my Camelback and grabbed some PB sandwiches and headed down the trail having switched places with the guy I was running with. He kept a nice pace and I was obliged to run and walk as he initiated. We clipped along to just past the 18 mile mark where the trail gets vertical again. There is literally a set of stairs carved into the rock as you make your way to the top. My running mate nearly took a wrong turn onto a spur at this point and retook the lead of our race of two. I yelled to him and he doubled back. We emerged at the top of the climb at the second aid station. As a helpful volunteer filled my Camelback half full (I had carefully calculated how much to carry between stations to save on weight) I saw the most beautifully site: WATERMELLON! Watermelon has never tasted so good. I could have sat down right there and eaten the rest of the stockpile. But alas the race called.

As I pasted the 20 mile mark I was alone again and as I left the check point I found out the next runner was 2 minutes ahead: I was making up ground. I look at my watch and did the math. I was running almost exactly 10 min/mile and it was decision time. I could ease off my pace and complete the race comfortably or go for broke and suffer the consequences. For me, the decision was simple: I would run 10 mins/mile for as long as I could and let the chips fall as they may. So I popped a vitamin Ib and took off. For the next seven miles I ran between 9:30 and 10:00 pace. It was quite an out of body experience as I cruised along alone. Around the 23 mile mark a passed the 50k runner I was chasing and I was now catching a lot of 70.5 mile runners (who had started at 5:30AM). As I passed them they cheered me and I cheered them. I felt like I was running on a cloud.

I was really starting to feel the effect of the pace as I came up on the last aid station at 26 miles and climbed to the highest point on the trail at 2950 feet. I had purposely drained my camel back before I got to the station and grabbed a couple of cups of water leaving my pack empty for the last 5 mile push. This was according to my plan as I figured water couldn’t help me now anyway and would just add weight. The next several miles were tough and really the first that I had struggled all day. I caught up to another 50k runner and trailed him for a mile. He turned and saw me and took off at the top of the climb.

My quads were quivering as I ran the last two miles and were on the verge of cramping at any minute. At this point I had slowed to 11:00 and was getting along as fast as I could. As I turned off the trail at the 31 mile mark and I ran the spur to the parking area I heard someone shout, “here comes a runner!” and a cheer from the small crowd went up. Then I saw my wife and daughter and I made a attempt to sprint the last 0.1 mile which is a lap around the parking lot. Standing in the parking lot I was happy. I finished in 5:14:45. My goal was to go under 5:20 and this was very satisfying. I ended up the third male out of 41. The competition was tough this year with both the male and female winners breaking the course record. The top female beat me by 7 minutes and smashed the course record by over 40 minutes.

All in all a good day. It was only my second ultra experience. My first had gone well enough but I had cramped badly in the final miles and I hurt for a week. I had decided before the race that this would decide whether I would continue running ultras or hang it up with 26+ races and pursue shorter races and triathlon exclusively. As I sit here, sore but feeling human, the jury is in: I’m signing up for a 50 miler in August.