Summary:
On Saturday November 9th my friend Brenda and I (plus about 250 others) completed the Stone Mill 50 Mile Endurance Run near Gaithersburg MD. We started in the predawn darkness; we crossed the finish line more than 14 hours later.
There were lots of physical struggles and some mental ones. We knew we were under trained and that became more clear all along the way. As our pace slowed we found ourselves racing against the cut off times. It turned out that the 42 mile aid station and 5:10 pm cutoff was our biggest deadline. And we made it with only 5 minutes to spare.
We switched on our headlamps as we resumed the effort. It turned out that we hiked the remaining distance, not wanting to risk injury from falling in the darkness and having made what felt like a finish line push over the last hour plus some. Our GPS watches ran out of battery power so we couldn't measure our progress. We were cold and tired and sore long before finishing, but we finished.
It was good to be with a friend for a struggle like that.
Long version:
Brenda had let me know that she had signed up for this race and a month or so later I decided to enter it too. We have some thousands of miles running together over the last 10 plus years, so this would be a day to relive the "old times". We were both under trained compared to previous long runs, but were aiming only to finish. We were counting on years of "getting it done" to make up for the lack of training miles in recent months. Yeah, that's what we thought.
Were were at the back of the pack for the 6 am start outside of an elementary school in suburban Maryland. A mile or so of paved roads/sidewalks brought us to the trailhead. We joined the slow "conga line" of runners winding along the trail with headlamps lighting the way. Now and then we were passed by some people who apparently started a little late. Our early pace was something like 12:xx minute miles. Once we were not feeling pressure from people behind us, our pace relaxed to something more like 14 minute miles. To meet the cutoff times in the later aid stations we needed to keep an overall average no slower than 16 minute pace.
The course covers relatively gentle trails through the woods, often on the edge of suburban developments, and a few miles of pavement connecting the several trails. We planned to walk the uphill portions and run as much as we could for the flats and downhills. There are numerous stream crossings, but water levels were low enough to mostly keep dry feet. The crossings all had some rocks in place to help with that. There were also some places where the trail went under bridges. Some of these were side-sloped steeply and/or with especially uneven rocky surfaces. With no branches or nearby structure to use for support, these seemed like places that falling could happen.
The single track trails didn't really allow side by side running and easy conversation. Mostly I ran first, with Brenda coming after with enough distance between to clearly identify where to step and avoid trip hazards. My easy pace on the trails was a little faster than hers and Brenda's hiking/walking pace a little faster than mine. It seemed like running about half the time should keep our average pace within the cutoffs.
We came to the first aid station at about mile 4 and just jogged on by since we didn't need anything. Around 7 miles into the race the course goes around a lake for a few miles. Going through the related park I overlooked the turn from park road to the trail but Brenda noticed it and kept us on course. The park had some lighted decorations that resembled what is common to see for Christmas time. (Too bad it was daylight by then.) At least some of these were water themed with mermaids, etc. The first aid station that I can remember visiting had the usual options: water, gatorade, cookies, chips, pretzels, etc. But something new to me was grilled cheese sandwiches and warm donut holes. I filled up my water bottle, grabbed some chips and M&Ms. The M&Ms were really hard due to the sub freezing temperatures. It had been about 25 degrees at the start with a high forecast for low to mid 40s.
We made our way at a relaxed effort, following the course markings, running/walking, chatting when possible. We would reach an aid station, thank the volunteers, fill up water bottle, grab some aid station food to carry in a baggy to be eaten during walk periods. At times we stopped to determine which trail branch to follow. One time we retraced our steps when it seemed we had gone too long without seeing trail markings. It turned out we had stayed on course, but lost almost 10 minutes (and added half a mile) making sure.
Near one housing development we saw a whitetail buck trotting along the back boundary of a residential property. At another place we followed in-town roads for about 10 minutes past a small shopping center and other business properties. Overall the course was an unusual mix of suburban and woodland for a trail ultra. Some places felt remote, but then around the next turn we ran along the edge of some backyards. The second half of the course had less of the suburban setting until the last 5 miles or so.
As we got into late morning we began to focus on the first time cutoff. It required us to reach the 24.5 mile point before 12:30 pm. Our overall pace seemed okay to meet the cutoff but we were a little unsure of our mileage due to the back tracking we had done. That uncertainty continued to be a factor for each of the cutoffs we had to make.
About noon time we came off the trail onto a parking lot, gravel road area. Just at that transition was a photographer and we did our best to smile. We arrived at the aid station without almost 20 minutes to spare, but took at least 10 minutes getting ready to continue. There were porta potties to visit, food and drink refills to grab, drop bag items to collect. I had been ready (even wanting) to drop out here if Brenda wanted to stop. She didn't mention it, but on the drive home I found out she had been thinking the same way. My feet had been bothering me for quite a while so I switched from trail shoes to road shoes for more cushioning. We crossed a timing mat as we left the aid station and that time would be available online for family or friends to view.
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| Aid station at 24.5 miles |
The course now went along the Potomac River for about 3 miles on the C&O Canal towpath. No hills or rocks or roots, simply a level surface that allowed us to take a break from watching every step. We leap-frogged with a few others here as our run and walk intervals varied from theirs. The river view was nice; my change of shoes helped my feet. We were about half done with the distance, but the second half of long races is often twice as hard as the first. As we left the towpath we came onto the namesake of the race - the ruins of the stone mill which now had only its walls standing. We ran inside of the structure then out though another doorway and then on to an aid station.
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| Stone Mill remnants |
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| Back in the day |
The usual food and drink was there, plus some sausage links and bacon! I took a little longer to gather my foods. I think this one had coffee and I had some of that too. I should say that all of the aid stations were extremely focused on helping us. We were greeted with questions about what we needed and offers to refill our bottles. Food choices were announced and as we were near the cutoffs, we were reminded to keep going - even "get out of here!" The interaction was always encouraging.
Soon we were back on trails and then beyond the 30 mile mark. Less than 20 miles to go. That's good news, isn't it? It seems to me that the trails became a little more gentle for a few miles, going through or along some more open, pasture like areas. A mile or so before the 34.3 mile aid station and the 3:10 pm cutoff we caught up to a younger guy who was limping along. He looked to be hurting but his comments suggested he wasn't feeling defeated. We were coming into this aid station in time, maybe with a 10 or 15 minute cushion. A different beverage available here was some kind of strong drink - Jim Beam?. We asked about the distance to the next aid and were told the "bar" is 3 miles away and then 5 more miles to the last cutoff at 42 miles and 5:10 pm.
As I recall, the trail soon crossed a road where a volunteer gave great encouragement to us, and then we had more climbing through wooded hills. There were some other runners in view ahead of us and the distance between us shrank and expanded repeatedly. It seemed to take too long to reach this aid station, but eventually we approached a hilltop with someone watching for runners and encouraging us to keep pushing. This was the "bar" aid station with numerous strong drink choices, plus water and gatorade on a separate table. Before I realized how things were arranged I picked up a cup of what I thought was gatorade or mountain dew only to find it tasted like beer. I put it down and found the water at the other table. We were reminded of the cutoff ahead and urged to get going.
Our pace had been slowing some more and the almost 5 miles that on paper remained to the 42 mile cutoff seemed impossible. We would have to improve our pace by a couple minutes per mile. One contrary bit of evidence was that my watch showed we had about an hour to make 3 miles, even though the published aid station locations suggested it was farther.
I remember asking Brenda if we were going to still try to make it and she said "yes". So I tried to set a faster pace, hoping to pull her along. And I prayed, asking for all the help we possible from Heaven: strength, angel protection and help, even miracles. At times the gap between Brenda and I grew as I tried going faster. But there were several stream crossings and at each of these I waited to be sure we crossed safely together. I caught up to one of the guys ahead to ask what he and the others just ahead knew about distance to the next cutoff. He said they had no idea; none had a GPS watch.
At some point I passed this runner and eventually Brenda did too. The other guys ahead had moved on out of view. We saw some some archery hunters very late in the afternoon at a spot where the trail crossed a forest road. As we got closer to what seemed to be the distance my watch should show for the aid station, I was moving further ahead of her. I starting to think of how to ask for permission to continue even if we didn't make the cutoff. At times I heard voices, but couldn't determine if these sounds were from runners on course or the aid station. Eventually I could recognize road traffic sounds and shouts of encouragement. As I approached the road I could understand the volunteer saying there were 8 minutes, and then I could see where the aid station was. We had been pushing harder for about 2 hours and were making it to this cutoff. It may have been a miracle. I certainly felt emotional, sure that prayers were answered and I was grateful.
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| photo & effects by Jenna |
As I entered the aid station a lady cheered for me by name. It surprised me to hear my name, but then I recognized Brenda's daughter and her little boy waiting for his Nana. They had made a nice poster for her. When I approached to greet them, Brenda was just coming into their view. We each received our drop bags from volunteers and quickly prepared for the last 8 miles. I changed into a dry shirt in anticipation of colder temperatures. A volunteer took care of my food and drink requests. Soon we were being urged out onto the trail again as darkness was falling.
During the pre-race instructions, the director had said that if we made the mile 42 cutoff, he would wait and keep the finish line open until we got there. This took a lot of pressure off for the remaining miles, but it also gave permission to ease up. Without that we might not have continued. There was only 1 hour and 50 minutes until the officially announced closing of the finish line. We would need to go even faster for these 8 miles in the dark to reach the finish by then.
We were directly behind a few others who also barely made this cutoff and we switched on our headlamps. We needed to walk to gather ourselves from the extra effort over recent miles. We also took in some of the food and drink we had picked up. Soon those in front of us stopped to take care of a headlamp issue and we moved ahead of them. And then it wasn't long until they caught up to us, and although we offered, they declined to move in front. Our 5 person group hiked on - I was in front figuring out where the trail turned, Brenda next, and 3 guys following. It sounded to me like maybe one of the guys was not entered in the race but had joined one of them as a pacer. It seemed he was too talkative, with many comments about other running experiences and too much enthusiasm to have been out on the trail for 11 plus hours.
After the darkness had fully descended on us, Brenda commented that she didn't know if she could run anymore. I took this to be a temporary situation and asked her later a few times to see if that had changed. Between the darkness and the fatigue, she felt the risk of falling was too great and could have serious consequences. We were now repeating a trail section from the beginning of the race. We came onto one of the tougher sloping areas under a bridge that carried road traffic overhead. As Brenda and I took our time here, those guys passed. Gradually they moved ahead and maybe ran some; then they were out of sight.
Other than the very bright moon and the small circle of light from our headlamps, we were really in the dark. I hoped that I wouldn't regret leaving my spare light in my drop bag. Brenda's watch went dead in the first couple miles after mile 42, mine stopped with 46.92 showing. This was quite a while before we reached the aid station that was to be at mile 46. Without knowing how many miles we had covered we couldn't gauge how much farther we had to go or how much longer we would be out there. Following the trail and watching our step kept bringing our focus to the present moment. Usually there were trail markers with reflective material at the places where the trail could be unclear. Sometimes when we had gone a few minutes without seeing any markers, we would have to consider whether we had gone off course.
We pressed on, supposing that the 46 mile aid station probably had been closed up since we were so late. Now and then the moon reflected off the nearby stream, other times lights from homes would catch our attention. Sometimes we saw streetlights and headlights from passing vehicles and wondered when we would be coming off the trails and onto a road. Then I could see a light ahead of us that seemed aimed at us, somehow different from the other lights along the roads and homes. As we approached that place we had to pass under a bridge and could see that someone was along the trail with the light. We were finally to the aid station at 46. So, we went under the bridge, up the bank, climbed over the wood railing and followed the sidewalk back across the bridge. A volunteer guided us and gave us directions on each of those things. (I felt like a nursing home resident receiving proactive assistance from a staff member.)
The aid station volunteers greeted us excitedly and encouraged us about finishing the race. It seemed surprising to me to hear "you got this!" and similar things considering we had been out there for about 13 hours, having covered 46 miles. We grabbed some PBJ and other things before heading back onto the trail. They said there was one more runner coming behind us. That was a surprise too. I felt sure we were last. As we continued, I took out my phone to call home and let my wife know that we probably had another hour and a half to go. Rose sounded amused that we were still struggling against the circumstances we had chosen for ourselves. At least she knew we were alive.
So on we went. More of the same. Darkness, increasing cold, follow the trail. Eventually we got to the end of the trail and another volunteer with a light. He gave us the directions about following the sidewalk for a mile and a quarter and then follow the driveway to the school and the finish line. We kept a brisk walk, now noticing hills we had easily gone up and down at the beginning of the day. And now we covered them with much greater effort. Along here we caught up to a guy moving with great difficulty. He had been through the same things we faced all day. He struggled to continue, leaning on fences and such as he moved forward. We wished him well as we passed.
We guessed wrong several times about having reached the school driveway. What else to do but continue? And we did. Finally at the school driveway, we turned and climbed, that's right, one more hill. We made the last turn toward the finish. Still walking. As we neared the finish line, Brenda and I heard footsteps from behind. Wow, someone was going to pass us this close to the finish. That didn't matter enough to get us to run. The sight of a photographer did give us reason to run a few steps - until the camera was lowered. There were about 4 people waiting: the cameraman, someone who gave us medals, the person at the timing computer, and someone who called out our race numbers. We were done 14:23:51 for Brenda and 14:23:52 for me. (That is according to race results. We had seen a time on the clock about 30 seconds higher due to chip timing)
Sigh. The end.
