Race Report: The Seneca7

by Lisa Domeshek

In the early morning hours of Halloween 2019, I sit at my computer, stretching my fingers, preparing myself for the frenzy of the Seneca7 race registration.  The race is known to sell out within minutes, so I have to move quickly if I don’t want to miss out.  True to form, my friend Emily types faster and fortunately secures our spot.  We’re excited and have no idea that we won’t embark on this adventure for two and half long years.

The Seneca7 is an annual relay race held in April that spans 77.7 miles in the Finger Lakes region of New York.  Teams of seven runners complete three separate legs ranging between 2.5 and 6.2 miles on roads surrounding beautiful Seneca Lake.  The format is similar to a road Ragnar Relay with the team riding in a van during off-legs.  The exchange points are often at local wineries and breweries, which the region is known for. There is also an option to form a bike team where you cycle opposed to riding in a van during your non-running legs. This would be quite the challenge as you are self-supported in either case. 

Fellow Pacers Donna and Blair introduced me to the race.  They had been participating for a few years and Donna had already formed a team, so I rounded up six other running friends. (The list of teammates ended up changing so many times before we actually got to run the race!)  We name our team “Pour Choices” and make cute matching hats. We meet several times to plan the logistics, including renting a house and a van, planning what we want to eat, and exploring which wineries we might want to visit after race day. 

It’s now March 2020.  Our grocery lists are ready to go, we requested time off work, and we spent a decent chunk of change. But you know what happens next – everything is canceled.  Our excitement quickly fades to disappointment.

The race offers a virtual option, but we decide not to participate.  We receive the option to forfeit our money, with a portion being donated to charity, with an automatic entry for the following year, avoiding the morning registration frenzy.  2021 comes and the race is once again held virtually, which still isn’t how we want to participate.  However, we still have automatic entry for the following year. 

2022 rolls around and it looks like we are finally going to get to do this! But for various reasons, three of our team members have to back out.  This shouldn’t be too big of an issue though; we have a great local running community, and this race sounds awesome.  Donna’s team is going through something similar and is also looking for teammates.  At this point, the race requires participants to be fully vaccinated.  Also, we need runners who can get away for a weekend, preferably a long one, as the race is on a Sunday and takes the full day, and ughhh Hyner is the same weekend. Donna and I are both scrambling and asking the same pool of runners.  By the beginning of March, we finally have our team together.

We found a house again, but no cute matching hats this time.  My energy for planning and replanning this trip is really starting to wane. Two weeks out, a team member gets injured, which was way worse for her than it was for us. We double-checked but Seneca 7 won’t let us start the race with six runners.  Desperately, we try to secure one more runner and with a stroke of luck we find the perfect fit three days before we must submit our final roster. Game on! 

Our final team includes Karla Reppert, Jackie Snyder, Kate Willis, Jenn Guigley, Emily Trudel, Blair Hogg, and myself. Maybe we could have come up with a much funnier team name, but it’s too late for that now. 

We get ourselves up to Seneca Lake and it’s finally race day with a 6 a.m. start and I am runner #1 — Eeekkk! The teams start in waves, and we are in the first. The race starts at the top of the lake in Geneva and runs counterclockwise around the lake ending back in Geneva.  My first leg is beautiful.  The temperature is in the low 50s, and I get to watch the sun rise over the water while I run 3.8 miles over a few rolling hills. When I finish running, I hand off a slap bracelet to runner #2, Jackie, and get on a shuttle to rejoin my team at the second exchange. Legs 1 and 2 involve a shuttle to help alleviate traffic; after that, you are in the van. 

Our entire team is running well and having a great time. Then it’s time for my second leg. Now I am fully awake and ready to go. My second leg is 3.3 miles, and I am running my heart out. The first mile is straight downhill, and I am passing the very few runners that are ahead of us.  We are all running better than expected. I get to a turn and some lively spectators partying on their porch yell, “Wait for It!!!” and sure enough I round a sharp turn to a very steep uphill. Ughhh — I was not prepared for this, and I don’t want to become “roadkill.” (Teams are tallying their “roadkill”–the number of runners they pass–and it is recorded in the results.)  So straight up I go for a mile, finishing this leg on the flat main road and now it is HOT! The temperature rose to the high 80s with no clouds and a “real feel” of 90. Two years ago, it had snowed right before the race. 

Everyone proceeds to run their second leg just as well, and it’s time for my last leg. I was originally a little nervous about being stuck in a van for such a long time but the day has flown by. Something was always happening.  My last leg is 3.7 miles and feels flat, but is slightly downhill. I am very thankful that I have not been on a bicycle between legs at this point, as it feels so brutally hot. I finish, and it’s finally time for a beer! Blair is our last runner and we all meet up to run the final part of his leg as a team to the finish. Little do we know, he has finally passed the guy in front of him, and he plans on really running it in, so we chase him down, unprepared, which is a little comical. 

Overall, this race was very well organized and a lot of fun. I can see why it sells out so quickly every year. Pour Choices placed 109 out of the 211 teams, at 12:31:17. Not too bad considering that we just wanted an excuse to have fun, drink wine, and visit the Finger Lakes.

Race Report: Hyner 50k

by Jason Karpinski

April 23, 2022

To say my first Hyner 50k experience was unique is an understatement. My day started bright and early around 3:45 a.m. with a shower. Michelle and I left at half past 4 (as planned) with an ETA of 7:27 a.m. All was going smoothly, and my mind was at ease…until my low tire pressure light switched on somewhere in the neighborhood of Minersville. One quick stop at a nearby Sheetz turned quickly to panic when their air pump was out of order, and I was able to put a dent in my tire with little effort. Frantically, I found a nearby Sunoco which was a mere 2.5 miles away. Unfortunately, as many of you may know, Pottsville’s roads are fairly unforgiving. Every bump in the road felt like a cramping hamstring (more of that to come later in the day). After paying $2 to attempt filling my tire, I faced the seemingly daunting task of changing my first flat tire. Luckily the donut was in good shape, and we were quickly back on the road. 

Our ETA was now 8:02.

Did I mention that the race start was scheduled to start at 8:00??

Several deep breaths were needed to calm myself down to a reasonable level. The temptation to hit the gas was overwhelming; however, the desire to arrive safely was even greater. All was well, and I was confident I would be able to start a couple minutes late, even if it meant pleading graciously with RD, Craig Fleming. As our trip progressed, I proceeded to calm further, that is, until we hit a stretch of 45 miles on US-220. Since we had to limit our speed to 50 mph on the donut, we realized the ETA on my GPS app wasn’t accurate, as we saw it tick later and later. I felt my anxiety growing and growing.

By the time we arrived at 9650 Renovo Rd in North Bend, PA, it was nearly 8:30. By now I was significantly less confident I would even be given the chance to start the race. My saving grace was that the 25k started at 9 and there were already designated cut-off times which would force me to switch my race regardless.

Upon scrambling to find the appropriate personnel to get my bib (#1913), I was sent to find my way to the start line and officially start my race day. As the miles ticked away, I traversed the many named trails along the way: Carl’s Way, Humble Hill, Post Draft, Johnson Way, S.O.B., and Huff Run. During my miles I had the fortune of seeing many familiar faces and meeting many others. Luckily, my legs carried me through the miles with general ease until a downhill of what seemed like miles. During this downhill my right hamstring felt like it would either cramp until my heel touched by backside or simply tear in half. Small steps lend relief from danger, and I made it to the bottom. Mile 24 and I saw my car in the distance, with a brand spanking new tire, courtesy of our very own Pagoda Pacer President, Michelle Henry. Relief swept through my mind, and I was greeted by the joyous smiling face of Michelle. 7 miles to go and one more long climb to reach the finish line. Upon finishing, I checked to make sure my time was official (6:20:23), so that the quest for the Black List could continue.

There was one person missing from this race weekend, and this was unfortunately a result of his passing at the top of the first climb during last year’s race. This man was Carl Undercofler, a Hyner legend, and someone I unfortunately never got to meet. His presence was felt by everyone, however, as his face was appropriately plastered on every race bib. Throughout the day I was reminded how awesome the running community is. From volunteers and spectators to fellow runners, my day was filled with smiling faces and words of encouragement. It all culminated in a unique experience which I will never forget, and a race that I would highly recommend to all trail runners.

Race Report: Devil Dog 100-miler

by Lou Donofrio

On December 4th, I raced the Devil Dog 100-miler in Prince William Forest Park, Virginia, having also finished 4th in the race in 2019.  

This year was warm during the day, and I was comfortable running in shorts and a t-shirt. However, racing a trail 100-miler in December meant that most of the race would be in the dark.  Once the sun went behind the hills, I added layers, and ran with a head lamp and a waist light. The added lumens were key to navigating the rooty, leaf-covered single-track trails in the dark.  

I finished 8th overall in 24:21:11, enjoyed another buckle, ate, slept, went to work, and began planning for the next training block.

Happy trails!  

North Half Fjallakofans (Iceland) 25k Race Report

August 26, 2021

by Michael Whalen

Our Iceland trip was originally planned to compete in the Road Marathon on Reykjavik. As in most places, the race, sports expo, and city celebrations were postponed. The initial six days of the trip were filled with hiking, casual running and viewing icebergs, waterfalls, and a volcano. I really was not disappointed that the marathon was cancelled.

On day six we arrived at a quaint fishing town that appeared to have some trails on a really big mountain range. After lunch, I decided to walk the town, find a trailhead and determine where I could run 12ish miles and get some elevation. I easily found a trail that appeared to be an out-and-back with some good climb included.  I phoned my sister and we decided to meet at the Segal Brewpub. The 3 of us arrived from different directions at the same time. There was a fair amount of people outside and there was a line to what looked like the hostess stand. Here is where things became fun.

We walked up to Helga and my sister noted she had a laptop and race bibs! We looked at each other and Jodi knew what my next steps would be. I quickly learned that tomorrow morning there was a 25k and also a 50k race, starting in the next town, 30 minutes away. I stayed in line and asked Helga for more info. “The race is sold out, and we are not allowing day-of registration.” Using a bit of persuasion and some begging, pleading, and appearance of sadness, I managed to convince her to give me her email address so I could follow up with her after all the bibs were picked up. I sent an email, basically adding all the info that you would put onto a race application, my Strava name, and screen shots from the week’s runs/hikes. I am guessing that my begging, knowing what info to send, and my Blues Cruise hat and Labor Pain 55-mile vest sealed the deal. In 16 hours, I would be running a 25K!!!!  Since she was not equipped for payment, Helga reported there would not be a fee for my entry. (I did slip her some cash on race day.) 

My excitement was off the charts. Let’s drink some local beers and figure out the next steps. I found the race photographer (from California) and his “crew”, including a road marathoner, doing her first trail race. I was able to arrange a ride to the starting line with the marathoner. Jordan’s wife was not racing but helped mark the course and reported that there is a varied terrain and snow on the course! I was also told to expect a few big climbs. A few more beers and something kind of healthy for dinner, back to the hotel to do race prep. Hokas, shorts, race shirts….check. Running vest, water bottles, gels, fuel….NOPE! I have never been less prepared for a race.

Race day: The race started at 11:00 a.m., allowing time to sleep in, enjoy 2 coffees and a good breakfast. I was in the lobby early and the ride to the start was uneventful. There was a hotel at the starting line and it appeared that all rooms were booked by runners. Why was registration at the finish line and not here? Karma for me! The music was playing, a few professional-looking podcasters were recording, and 50K runners were passing through. My pre-race happiness was kicking in. We lined up and a very long pre-race announcement was delivered. I was hoping that it was more nothing important, since the speech was not in English! 

We lined up and off we went! The initial 1.5 miles were on street and the marathoner I met was at a 6 min/mile pace. I settled in before the first hill. No need for poles for the rolling initial 3 miles. Then things became real. I found a few English-speaking runners and learned there was only 1 aid station and it would have drinks and maybe a piece of candy.

For the next 3 hours, I ran in mud, crossed 12 streams, had wind that blew us sideways, 3 snow fields (one that was on a slope that caused many runners to slide about 100 yards off course), moss bogs that were like running on a soft mattress, several 4 foot straight up climbs, fields with no markings (often not knowing if we were on course), a river, and a few climbs that were similar to the Leg Destroyer. I passed the marathoner at mile 6 and she was struggling with the PA-style rocks but having fun. I made good progress on the uphills (thank you Leki) and was feeling pretty good for the duration of the race.

Not knowing the course had the disadvantage of not knowing how hard to push for an 18 mile race. I went at it aggressively and after the mile 13 river crossing noted that the course was dirt road and street into the finish line. Time for the after burners for a 8:02, 8:42, 9:15 final 3 miles.  

The town was packed with cheering fans: a Norwegian style band was playing and the excitement was better than awesome! 3 hours and 15 minutes for the 16 miles with 3,719 of ascent. 36th place and 2nd in my Age Group.

In closing I am grateful for having the Karma of finding this race, being permitted to compete, having enough gear to “wing it”, finishing uninjured and not lost in the August snow and using the great advice from my fellow Pagoda Pacers to figure this one out.   Bless Bless! (Icelandic for goodbye)

Race Report: Rock Your Socks 5k

by Robert Stichter

I ran this race on March 20th at Cairns University. The track club held its annual Rock Your Socks 5k. This was a benefit for World Down Syndrome Day. My son, Hunter, who will be 1 on April 6th, has Down’s. This was his first race! (Well, I pushed him in a running stroller.) The race was just a little longer than a 5K: 3.21 miles. 3/21 is World Down Syndrome Day. “3.21” also signifies the Trisomy 21. Trisomy 21 is the most common chromosomal anomaly in humans, affecting about 5,000 babies born each year and more than 350,000 people in the United States. If you look at the shape of the chromosomes of Trisomy 21, it looks like a pair of mismatched socks (hence, “Rock Your Socks”). So each runner was asked to wear a pair of mismatched socks, which Hunter and I did. We completed the 3.21 rolling hills race in 36 minutes. Not too bad for having fun, pushing a stroller, and oh yeah–taking a time-out to change a diaper. LOL!

Two Race Reports by Blair Hogg

Run for the Elk

(5k, 10k, and Half-Marathon)

With everything being canceled due to the pandemic, it was surprising that these races were able to be held. Fortunately for the group of us from the Reading area that went, the pandemic had subsided in August allowing smaller gatherings, and the races went on. 

We had heard about these races awhile back, and a group of us thought it would be fun to rent a lodge in Elk County, run some trail races, and enjoy the outdoors and time with our friends. The initial group was about 10 people; unfortunately the pandemic brought us down to 6. It worked out well, as we were able to keep relatively socially distant even though we were sharing a lodge together. 

The races were held in Elk County, near the town of St. Mary’s. It is a beautiful part of PA, with gorgeous vistas where you might actually get a chance to see elk grazing in the fields. We were excited about the races, and for visiting this area and experiencing what it had to offer. 

Our group arrived on Friday evening, and our first stop was the famous Straub Brewery in St. Mary’s. Dinner was excellent, and the beer was rather good as well. Might as well pick up a few six packs of beer for later! Straub has a decent variety, and the lo-cal IPA is pretty tasty!

We arrived at the lodge we rented, got settled in, and relaxed. Some stretching and foam rolling was needed to prepare for the races in the morning. Once everyone had gotten prepared, the group turned in for a good night’s sleep.

We got up on Saturday fairly early, as the 5k and 10k races were approximately 30 minutes away at Parker Dam State Park. It is a lovely facility, with fishing, boating, camping, and, of course, trails for running. The races were primarily held on park roads which were a mixture of dirt, gravel, and pavement. The races were chip timed, and a “rolling start” allowed for social distancing during the race. Once you picked up your bib, you proceeded to the starting line and began the race. 

The 5k was held on the main park road as an out-and-back course, with some hills. What’s a race without hills? (We’ll answer that later). The course ran past the lake and boating area, and was very well-run. Race times and results were to be posted on the Internet after the race and awards would be mailed. All of the fast runners in my age group must have slept in, as I finished in a little over 29 minutes and took first!

The 10k was held on the 5k course, but was extended on another park road for 1.55 miles. This was not the originally intended course, but trail conditions had forced the change. And the best part was that the extra 1.55 miles was all uphill! Nonetheless, we all managed to complete both races, with several of us bringing home age-group awards. Unfortunately, the fast guys showed up for the 10K, and I settled for third. 

We returned back to our lodge for some breakfast and showers, then went off to tour the area in search of elk. The Elk Visitor’s Center is an excellently maintained facility, with walking trails and benches where visitors can watch for elk. Unfortunately, no elk were to be seen. We checked out other areas looking for these majestic creatures, saw some beautiful countryside, but unfortunately, no elk. Tomorrow is another day. 

Back at the lodge we had the typical runner’s meal of pasta and meatballs, hoping to replace some calories for tomorrow’s half marathon. After dinner it was a beautiful night, and I had brought along a telescope, so the group was able to see some nice sights in the sky, including the rings of Saturn. We couldn’t stay up too late, though, as there was a race to be run in the morning!

On Sunday, we all got ready and headed to Emporium for the start of the half marathon. The course was originally a point-to-point race from St. Mary’s; however, with the pandemic still rearing its ugly head, the course had to be changed to an out-and-back on a rail trail. It would have been difficult to pack runners into buses and shuttle folks from the finish to the start under the existing conditions. 

Off we went on the 40-minute drive to Emporium. It was a pleasant ride, and along the way we saw elk! They were just hanging out in fields beside the road having breakfast on the grasses. Finally, after being in the area for nearly 2 days, we got to see elk. 

The half marathon was also a rolling start, so as soon as we arrived and got our numbers pinned on, we were able to start. Bottled water was available along the course, and we carried water with us and refilled as needed. The rail trail was flat and rather uninteresting, which made for a bit of a boring race. It was probably good, though, as we were still recovering from the previous day’s races. We all finished, and after the races we were treated to wine slushies and live entertainment! All in all, it was a good weekend, and something to be considered for next year. Having a decent group in a rented lodge made the experience even more rewarding. 

End of the Road Half Marathon

Up for a little adventure? Looking for interesting races? That about sums up me earlier in the year with most everything being canceled. Then I see something pop up on my Facebook feed about the End of the Road Half Marathon. Well, this looks interesting. The course is on an abandoned section of the PA turnpike near Breezewood, and includes running through two tunnels! This could be cool! Or, it could be awful! Well, only one way to find out!

Donna Hey and I signed up for the afternoon race. With the pandemic still being a concern in mid-October, the race directors came up with the idea of having a morning race and an afternoon race, to allow more people to experience the event. Since it was a 2-hour drive, the afternoon start would allow us time to get there without having to get up at 4 in the morning. Sounded like a win-win, with the only drawback being that even in mid to late October, there could be some warm days, and a morning start could be preferable. 

Race day arrived with near perfect running conditions predicted. We began our journey with enough time allowed to get to the event, pick up our packets, loosen up and stretch after the ride, and run the race. It was looking to be a great day. 

I had gone into this race with a tentative goal of completing a half marathon in under two hours. I wasn’t sure that I was up to the challenge yet. I had been running intervals on the Muhlenberg rail trail hoping to improve my pace. I had initially started with 8 repeats of 2 minute intervals which got ’em about a half mile per interval. I had started increasing the interval length to 3- and 4-minute intervals, but thought I might have started too late to get to my goal. Only one way to find out!

The race started normally, with cones 8 feet apart to allow for social distancing at the start. Chip timing was used so starting back a bit wasn’t a concern. At shortly after 2pm, we were off.

The race began with a modest uphill climb, not terribly steep but nearly a mile long. At the top of the hill we entered the first of the tunnels. Headlamps were needed, as the first tunnel was over a half mile long and the second tunnel was over a mile long! I reached the first mile in under 9 minutes! I was surprised at that given the uphill start and wasn’t sure that I could hold that pace, but might as well give it a try. Coming out of the first tunnel was a decent downhill, might as well bank some time! And, since it is an out-and-back course, each downhill turns into an uphill on the return. 

At about 4 miles, the course began another uphill climb towards the second tunnel, and we got there a little after mile 5. The tunnels were rather neat to run through with graffiti on the walls and the floor. And the road surface in the tunnels was in pretty decent shape, so you didn’t need to pay too much attention to footing!

Exiting the second tunnel brought you to the turnaround. I was under an hour! I might actually achieve my goal! Can’t get too excited, though, as there was still a decent uphill climb going back towards the first tunnel. At the turnaround, I grabbed a water, and ventured back through the tunnel on the return trip. Even in the dark, I managed to pick out Donna to give her encouragement. 

The uphill going out to the second tunnel was now a downhill,  so I could bank some time and catch my breath at the same time. That uphill going back was going to be a challenge. I checked my Garmin at mile 10 prior to starting up the hill and thought I had a bit of time to spare. 

And that hill was a challenge. It was the steepest part of the course, and I even stopped and walked a bit. Today may not be my day. I finally made it to the top and entered the first tunnel going back the other way. At least there was a downhill to the finish!

With a little help from gravity, I pushed toward the finish. When I got close enough to see the clock, it was at 1:58! Come on, I can do this! Crossed the mat at 1:59:41, and the start delay gave me a chip time of 1:59:30! I did it! And also managed to achieve a 3rd place finish in my age group!

The proceeds from the race go to help the efforts to develop the area into a park, providing for maintaining and improving the old roadways. Running through the tunnels is a blast, and I highly recommend to keep an eye on this race for next year. You won’t regret it!

The View 25k (11/08/2020)

by Jason Karpinski

The author and Penelope-the-Pup; photo by Michelle Henry

Over 300 runners gathered at the start line with “The View” looming overhead. Race Director Craig Fleming briefly addressed the participants and quickly gave up the mic because “he worked too hard not to run the race.” The gun goes off and the shuffle of feet begins. This was my first time at the heralded Hyner Challenge course in North Bend, PA. The misfortune of the Hyner cancellation earlier in the year became my fortune to enter this “once-and-done” race. A course which featured many of the staples in this area, including: Humble Hill, Cliffhanger, Post Draft, and the seemingly vertical SOB Hill.

As the first couple miles unraveled, I somehow ended up immediately ahead of previously mentioned RD, Craig Fleming. This unique experience gave me an inside look into the preparation taken to make the course race-ready. Such preparation involved cutting downed trees, re-routing the usual course to add a mile and more elevation (because the regular course simply would not cut it), and even leaf-blowing several miles. While learning of the work put into the course, I had my first Humble Hill experience, which will certainly not be forgotten. Shouts of joy could be heard from a select few runners picking their way up and up and up. Approximately 1900 feet of elevation gain and we reached the first aid station around mile 3.5. Crews at this aid station and the 2 others were quick to help the runners and offer words of encouragement.

The miles continued, as did the hills. Around mile 8 we hit a section of the course which was believe it or not, downhill. However, this downhill was unlike any I have ever run–approximately 3/4 of a mile steady downhill marred with large, grapefruit-sized rocks (an absolute ankle destroyer). Moisture on the course was nearly non-existent, which in my opinion made for a great race day, but it was almost too clean. That is, until we reached mile 10 and were faced with SOB Hill–a hill which is wrought with loose dirt and stones, and what seemed like a 70° pitch. Luckily this was the last of the hills, and we were told at the third aid station that the last 4-5 miles were flat or downhill.

The last several miles flew by and before you knew it you were crossing the finish line to a round of applause, cheers, and cow-bells from the on-lookers and those who run just a bit faster than I. Hot food and cold beverages awaited, as did a beautiful mid-day ride back home where the memories of the day were relived with others and stored for later runs. The Hyner course and surrounding area is one that should not be missed and added to trail running fans’ wish lists. I know I will certainly be back in the future.

Keep running, smiling, and being kind to others.

Race Report: Worlds End 100k, September 26, 2020

by Elaine Cook

I have wanted to run Worlds End for several years, after hearing Joanne Van Horn, Lori Johnson, Tom Chobot, Jess Gockley, April Zimmerman, and other rock stars talk about its beauty and ruggedness. After two years of fighting nagging injuries, I felt I’d turned the corner and signed up for the 100k in 2020. However, I continued to struggle with minor nagging tendonitis that never totally went away. I watched my calendar and training log with a growing sense of doom. THEN Covid hit and everything was cancelled or postponed. I took a hard break and started at ground zero with training. In April I was running 9 slow flat miles per week without pain, but I was sure WE would have to cancel.  

Fast forward to September, and the rescheduled race was a go!  I’d been running lots of mountainous 20 milers at Hamburg, but on an August training weekend at WE it took me 11 hours to run 50K–much too slow to stay ahead of the cutoffs. Worlds End allows 19 hours for the 100K.  I went into the race with the audacious goal of being able to run for 18+ hours, but knowing that unless everything went perfectly, I would likely get pulled at one of the later aid stations for missing a cutoff time. The late September start meant 7 hours of dark running on wild terrain for the back-of-packers: a real concern for me in keeping on pace.  

Since the 50K had been cancelled, and some runners deferred to 2021, only 109 runners started Saturday in the misty dark at 5 AM. Jogging across the starting line and through the park with Fran Mahalak, Joanne, Lori, and Laura Yoder, I wasn’t too worried about the first couple hours of dark–I knew there’d be runners around me. And there were–for half an hour or so. WE puts small reflectors on the ends of the ribbon used to mark the course, but I really wished for a lot more flags. I kept getting into gaps where I was alone, and then I’d fear I’d lost the trail and I’d slow to a walk while I searched for flags. Someone would catch me, but I was too nervous on the very rocky terrain to keep up in the dark, so I’d be right back in trouble. I kept tamping down panic until the sun came up, and I found myself running with Fran and Lea Becker, 2 veterans. Lea told me, “I’m going to finish, but I’ll be near the cutoff.  Anyone after me, even now, probably isn’t going to make it.” I took that seriously, but I lost her when my husband (Alan) was unexpectedly at Sones Pond aid station #2. I dropped off my light, got updates on the Pacers running ahead of me, picked up some food and water, and set out on a mission to catch Lea. 

The early morning was stunning! Golden light made the yellowing ferns glow along the rocky and low Loyalsock creek. Leaves were starting to turn, and there were purple asters everywhere. Rocks and waterfalls, up and down. There weren’t many runners around me at all. Up to Devil’s Garden, down to Worlds End, a small cluster of runners here and there passing me on technical stretches or falling behind me on runnable parts. I was focusing hard on those flags! I knew I didn’t have time to get lost and still keep ahead of cutoffs. At Worlds End my crew was cheering as I came off the Link Trail behind the Visitor’s Center and crossed the road.  I got a huge lift seeing Mike Whalen and Matt Brophy and knowing they were ready to run some miles with me! Alan was waiting with a chair and my gear laid out:  quick change of shoes and socks, some pickles and potato chips, water refill and a bag of gels, and I was off up the steep climb toward Canyon Vista. This section overlapped with the half marathon going on at the same time (the ultra was rescheduled to the half marathon date due to COVID).  Different colored flags were everywhere, and runners were going both directions.  It was confusing! I was grateful to finally branch off and onto ultra-only trail again. 

The view at Canyon Vista takes your breath away!  I was starting to believe I could finish, 20+ miles in and feeling great!  Still chasing Lea though.  I fully believed that if I could catch her, I would finish.  

After Canyon, the Pacer Aid Station is next at Coal Mine. I was gradually passing some other runners and listening hard for the horns and the yelling. The Pacers pampered me and got me in and out fast, with a bellyful of soup and grilled cheese and some sage words from the ax bearer, Jess Gockley. And surprising news: I was ahead of Lea! I knew I was close to Joanne, Lori, and Laura and on pace to beat cutoffs. Eight miles to High Knob at mile 35 where Mike Whalen would pace me the next 15 miles. I consider that stretch the most beautiful and most difficult. It’s also the longest gap between aid stations, but in return you get some amazing vistas and gorgeous waterfalls. When we trained here in August, this part was slick and treacherous, but on race day it was dry and I felt like I was flying. Even the wooden ladder and eroded trail at Rode Falls didn’t scare me. I got to share some miles with Laura, and before I knew it we had popped out onto the road, and I was rolling into High Knob, over 90 minutes ahead of the cutoff.

Alan had a well-trained pit crew by this time! New shoes and socks, a quick stretch and pack refill, and Mike and I were off, butt sliding down the first steep drop and then rolling along comfortably down a long, runnable descent, up an endless climb, and back down to Dry Run.  In and out, head lamps ready, another long climb and we were trying to cover miles. I was still feeling good, but getting tired and stiff and I knew I’d have trouble negotiating the rocks in the dark. Mike assured me I was on track to finish, but he kept me moving and made sure I ate and hydrated on schedule, entertaining me all the while. The woods at dusk were beautiful, but we were losing daylight.  We almost missed one turn as darkness fell, but were saved by some campers, and we made it into Brunnerdale mile 50 a little over an hour ahead of the cutoff.  

The pit crew was ready, and Alan got me in my last dry shoes and socks, fresh headlamp and flashlight, fuel and water, and Matt guided me out into the last leg of the journey in full dark.  I was stiff and sore and growing concerned that I was losing ground against the final cutoffs.  There were two big climbs after Brunnerdale; everything was rocky and difficult, and it wasn’t just dark, but also a little misty making my glasses fog up. Mike got a perky and talkative Elaine, but Matt got an exhausted, fretful, mostly silent Elaine–sorry Matt! Matt found me the flags and talked books with me–everything to keep my mind off my complaints. I know he was getting worried that I was moving too slowly. At the last aid station, Fern Rock, the volunteers told us we could make it but NO WALKING! It is entirely runnable for that last 6 miles…or would be if I hadn’t already covered 58 treacherous miles since 5 AM! 

So we ran (mostly) and ran and ran and ran, and where the HELL is that last steep drop?  FINALLY we were dropping down the last steep trail. I was bleeding time off the clock, too stiff to run the steep parts and scared I’d fall and in a terror of getting this close and missing the deadline. Matt was calm and measured every step. At last the trail flattened out, and there were Stephan Weiss and Dan Govern cheering us onto the paved path to the parking lot and the finish. 

18:49:41, 60th of 64 finishers.  As she’d predicted, Lea was the last finisher a few minutes later!  A belt buckle, a hug from Alan, a blur of congratulations, and an utter crash of nausea, exhaustion, and almost cramping muscles. I missed everything that happened for the next hour, a far cry from the celebration I imagined I would have if I somehow finished that thing! BUT I had the time of my life! Epic, hard, agonizing, breathtaking, magnificent! Every single person crewing, volunteering, running, and cheering was a part of making that day great! I loved everything about it. I could never have finished without my husband, my crew–especially Mike and Matt who gave up a fall weekend–and the advice and support of my training partners and the Pacers! I would absolutely do it again, if I am fortunate enough to get the chance. Don’t ask me to tell you about it unless you are ready for an earful!  

Run Like a Warrior

by Steve Vida

You’re in the woods at a secret location in the Bronx.  It’s 1:00 AM.  You need to get to Coney Island, about 28 miles away, but there is no marked course.  You’re about to begin the Warriors Ultra-Run.

Jon Durand heard about this race, and we headed to NYC together to check it out.  The race format is inspired by the 1979 gang movie The Warriors, where 8 members of the Warriors are trying to get from the Bronx back to their home turf in Coney Island while being chased by an assortment of rival gangs.

The event itself is more fat-ass than race.  There is no swag, no aid stations, no bibs, no course.  You do get Todd Aydelotte, the enthusiastic race director.  You get a fun group of people to run with.  And you get New York City – a lot of it.

Jon and I followed Broadway from the start and through the length of Manhattan, counting down the cross streets from 242nd to somewhere below 14th.  This route was well-lit and simple to follow, with places to restock food along the way.  Bathrooms weren’t as easy to come by.  The overnight atmosphere through here was surprisingly subdued.

There were opportunities in Manhattan to see locations from the movie.  Jon and I are pictured outside 72nd Street station, where the encounter with the Furies begins.  (It’s presented as 96th Street in the movie.)  We also made a slight detour to see the real park where the opening conclave was filmed.  Further down Broadway we passed through Times Square and Union Square.  

We took the Brooklyn Bridge out of Manhattan.  The temperature all night was upper 70s with high humidity, so it was a relief to get some cooler air on the bridge.  The optimal route through Brooklyn wasn’t obvious.  We passed the Barclay’s Center and Prospect Park and then turned straight toward Coney Island.  We were spent by this time, and traffic was picking up with the daylight.  But we soldiered on and made it to the finish on the boardwalk well after sunrise.  There were a few beers available for the finishers, but Nathan’s wouldn’t be open for a few hours yet.

The top 3 finishers (in the 4:30 range) will get replica Warriors vests.  The plan is for them to begin next year’s race with a 10 minute head start, while the rest of the field chases after them.  2020 was only the second year for this event.  Last year had 32 participants, and this year was on track for well over 100 before COVID reduced the number to around 30 again.

The race director added a few nice features for big fans of the original movie.  We gathered for the start and listened to an audio replay of Cyrus’ speech at the conclave (pictured – note our masks).  The race began at the sound of the gunshot that kills Cyrus.

Participants were also encouraged to come dressed as one of the gangs.  You only have to watch the first 10 minutes of the movie to get plenty of great costume ideas.  But in the July heat this wasn’t very practical.  I started the race with a Furies baseball jersey and a ring of face paint around one eye.  Both had to come off in the first mile.  However, if you go with a group of people, it might be fun to wear matching running shirts and show up as your own “gang”.

You can eventually find updated information at thewarriorsultra.com, or hit up me, Jon or Jason Karpinski (another local participant) for more details.

Race Report: Eastern States 100

by April Zimmerman

I’ve been waiting a year and a half for this weekend – Eastern States 100. 36 hours to run, hike, (crawl?) 103 miles. Two years ago, I got my first 100 miler experience as I helped crew and pace Brian at this race. It was an incredible thing to witness runners pushing through the suck, and the volunteers and crews out there to support those runners. I fell in love with Little Pine State Park and the surrounding areas we traveled to for crewing during the race. I’ve had many trips back to the area since then, for other races, and training runs. I feel like I don’t have any business attempting a 100 miler, but here I am. I have a lot of badass, influential friends (or bad influence?). I’m sure there are many other great races out there, but this is it for me–I want this one. The course and the area it travels through have all come to mean something to me, so I don’t think any other distance race will mean as much to me as this one does. I’m not fast. I’m not competitive. I don’t push myself as much as I could. I don’t train as hard as others. I just do what works for me, or maybe I’m just lazy. Despite all that, I do not doubt that I will finish this. That might make me a fool, but all I see is me finishing this race. I know this course. I’ve trained on it. I’ve re-read the course description and race reports. I love the time I’ve spent on these trails, and I hope I still feel that love when I am out there all day, and night, and into the next day. I don’t want to be the girl that fails, that didn’t train hard enough, or isn’t tough enough. Reality is though that anything can happen. I might not eat or drink enough, or eat the wrong things, get hurt, or find myself at 3am hoping a bear would just eat me and put me out of my misery. I want to smile and enjoy this, just take it all in, rather than be miserable, which I can be at times, especially under these conditions. I hope I can remember out there that I GET to do this. I can see, hear, walk, run… things I usually take for granted, things some people are not able to do.

6 years ago, I wasn’t a runner. If you had told me I would run a half marathon, marathon, 50K, or 100K, I would have laughed at you. I didn’t even know that trail running and ultramarathons were a thing. To all the people that don’t think they could ever do this, well, I didn’t either, until I tried. I put in the work and built up to the distances. Our bodies are capable of much more than we realize; it’s our mind we must convince. 

Eastern States 100 – I don’t even know where to begin… I had so much support from my friends and family, especially my husband. He got my crew to each accessible aid station, and he found some other spots along the trails to spectate and cheer the runners on. It was great to see my sons out there experiencing an event like this. Tim, Wendy, Will, and Michele camped at Little Pine State Park and came out for the race. Gabe, Jess, Hunter and Kassidy volunteered at the Hyner Run (mile 43) aid station, and then Gabe planned to pace me from there. Fran and Brooke were also there to help crew and pace me. Was I supposed to have a plan? I’m not much of a planner. 100 miles is a lot of unknown for me. How would it go through the night Saturday after already having 65 miles on my legs and not getting any sleep? Would I be able to move fast enough as my legs got tired? Would my stomach shut me down? The only thing I knew is that I needed Brooke with me for the last 20 miles. She had the experience, and I knew she would keep me in line and get me to the finish.

We rented a cabin at Happy Acres for the whole crew and went up Thursday night to try and have a relaxing Friday before the race. We had dinner at Mountain Top (so good!) and then went to packet pick up. I tried to get to bed early, but that’s usually something I fail at on a regular basis. I set the alarm for 3 am, but I was already awake and didn’t need it. We were only a few miles away from the start/finish area. As always, it’s nice to see everyone before the race starts. It didn’t fully sink in, what I was about to do. I was ready to start and get the pack spread out. I never know where to place myself. I don’t want to feel pressure from people behind me to go faster, and I don’t like being behind someone knowing I could go faster. The first 20ish miles are the hardest part of the course. 

The race starts at 5 am. Here we go! The first mile is on the road to Little Pine State Park Campground and then we hit the Mid State Trail. It’s narrow, with plenty of rocks and roots to turn your ankle on in the dark, but I get through it safely to Dam Run Rd, to one of the worst climbs on the course. It’s a conga line on the climb, no need to push it, but the guy in front of me almost hits me in the face a few times with his trekking poles. I finally had enough and went around him. I didn’t want to be that person passing early in the race on a climb, but I also didn’t want to get stabbed in the eye! Throughout those early miles I got to chat with Karina, Brian R, Bryan S, and the company was nice while it lasted. On the back of my phone, I had the aid station chart with distances, cut-off times, and my estimated times, which were based on Brian’s times from 2 years ago. I looked at it a lot to know the distance to the next aid station. That’s basically how my whole race went, aid station to aid station. Climb, descend, repeat… 

The first aid station is at Ramsey Rd, mile 5.5, which I went through without stopping. There is a rocky, off camber descent to Ramsey Run. I felt good on the descent and wondered to myself if I was running it too fast, which my quads would hate me for later. We start another long, rocky climb, and then the Mid State Trail descends once again, but not quite as technical this time. I worry about my feet going out from under me on the steep descent, trying to slow myself down, wrecking my quads. I got to chat with George along the way. 

We cross Route 44 to the Pine Creek Rail Trail, and aid station 2, mile 10.5, where RD Dave Walker is helping. From there we run the Pine Creek Rail Trail for a short bit, and I enjoy the view as we cross the bridge over Pine Creek! I really do love this beautiful area! I exchange a few words with a guy from Sweden, and I find it interesting how far some people traveled to do this race. I believe there is a group of 10 from Japan as well! Shortly after the bridge on the rail trail, we turn right on the Stone Cutter Trail, and then the Tiadaghton Trail. The guy in front of me kept going on the rail trail, so I had to tell him he missed the turn. It’s too early to be missing turns! The Ramsey climb is another tough one, but I kind of like it because of the view towards the top, and it’s familiar to me from the times I’ve done it before. I take a moment to enjoy the view, and then we have some more gradual climbing along the ridgetop. 

We get to a gravel road, Bull Run Rd, and I think I see a deer, but it turns out it’s my dog, Rusty. I see my friends and family found a spot to spectate and cheer us all on! Next is the descent along Bull Run, which is pretty, but rocky. I take my time here. I’m very thankful the bugs aren’t as bad as they’ve been on other days, and that the stinging nettle have been trimmed. I find myself getting emotional a few times early in the race as I think to myself, this is it, you are doing Eastern freaking States! Towards the bottom of Bull Run we turn and run a nice rolling section, with Pine Creek down to our right. We pass through some hunting cabins to Route 44 and make our way up a trail to the Lower Pine Bottom DCNR building, aid station 3, mile 17.8. 

I’m happy to see my crew, and the only real bathroom on the course! It’s about 9:50am. I refill water and gels, ditch the headlamp, and back out I go. So many familiar faces, but it’s all a blur. I have 8 miles to the next aid station.  We climb the gravel Lower Pine Bottom Road for ¾ mile and then turn right and cross a stream to Wolf Path, for more climbing. Along this section I think back to my training run here with friends, and it gets me through the lonely miles. The descent along Ott Fork is nice, gradual, and not technical. I’m surprised again to see my family and friends spectating here!

We cross Route 44 to climb the Plantation Trail. We are on some ATV trails towards the top and then a there is a nice descent on the Jack Martin Trail, with some waterbars to throw my rhythm off.  I notice the girl in front of me looks like she is hiking down, and while I’m running down, I’m not really catching up to her too quickly. Maybe I should save my quads and do what she is doing? 

Aid station 4, Browns Run, mile 25.8, and again it’s nice to see some familiar faces! Joe is there taking photos. He completed this race two years ago. I also see Luke, who did a lot of trail maintenance before the race. Thank you! It’s sometime after 12pm. I’ve been moving for over 7 hours now. I know I have 6 miles to the next aid station, and it’s a long, gradual climb along Browns Run. I chew some RunGum for caffeine to get me through it. I also turn some music on my phone, quietly, when no one else is around me on the trail. I don’t normally listen to music, but whatever it takes right now. Seriously, 6 miles of gradual climbing? It’s a mental grind. I am surprised to see my husband found another gravel road to spectate at near the end of this section! 

At Happy Dutchman, aid station 5, mile 31.6, I get my water refilled and eat a little something before heading out. I think it’s around 2:20pm at this point. I cross Route 44, and it’s mostly grass snowmobile trails, and then the Donut Hole Trail to Ritchie Rd. All very runnable, if you’re up for that. 6.9 miles to the next aid station. I make myself run a lot of this section, and I wonder how my legs can feel this bad already, after “only” going 50K. Once again, they found another spectating spot. I’m alone for most of this section. There is a nice couple sitting out along the trail, though their “fuzzy friends club” (lots of stuffed animals) seems a little strange.

I love the creative signs along Ritchie Rd, coming into the aid station. It’s around 4:00pm, mile 38.5. Again, it’s nice to see some familiar faces here! Jade, Michael, and Kiran are here! I make myself eat something, and then I have 4.7 miles to Hyner Run. This is one small section I have never done. The dirt road power line section seems to go on forever, and I bet that’s tough on a hot, sunny day. I pass a few runners, and then finally get back on a trail and descend Bear Pen Hollow to Hyner Run Rd. I am slow on the descent, and happy to be done with it. I start running on the gravel road, and it feels like my home away from home, coming into Hyner Run State Park. 

It’s around 5:15 pm. Aid station 7, mile 43.2. It’s crew accessible and I can pick up my first pacer, Gabe. I’ve been moving for over 12 hours now. I take time here to make sure I have what I need as I will be heading into darkness before the next crew access. I take my arm warmers, buff, headlamp, and fingerless gloves so I don’t get blisters on my hands… and then I never stop at the aid station to eat. I’m happy to see my family and crew, and Gabe’s family cheering for me with the signs they made. I head out with Gabe for the two mile climb on the Donut Hole Trail. It’s so nice to have someone to talk to as he fills me on his day with his family, volunteering at the aid station, and how others are doing in the race. I start to feel ever so slightly nauseous, and I realize my mistake not eating any real food at the aid station. I get some calories with my gels and baby food packet, and I mention that I need to eat at the next aid station. I know this section to Dry Run Rd very well, from the Hyner Half, and think of the fun times with the PA Trail Dogs. The trails are in excellent shape, thanks to them. I might know this section too well though, which makes it drag on for me mentally. Oh, the painful, short, yet steep descent of the “V”, where the trail just seems to drop out from under you, and then goes right back up again. I think back to watching Brian go down this on his butt because it’s that steep. Descend, climb, descend, climb… 

We finally get to Dry Run aid station, mile 51.1, and it’s nice to see Sophorn here. I eat some real food and then we head back out. We have 3.5 miles to the next aid station at Halfway House. It’s dark and all a blur in my memory now.

We get to Halfway House aid station around 9:15pm, mile 54.7. Gabe paced me for 11.5 miles. Now I am picking up my next pacer, my 16 year old son, Dylan. We have 9.1 miles to the Slate Run aid station. We cross Route 44 and continue on the Black Forest Trail. He’s excited and a little nervous to pace me, but we’ve reassured him he’ll be fine as he’s done trail races with us before. He thinks it’s cool to be out in the dark. He tells me repeatedly how proud of me he is and how great I am doing. Having him experience this with me means more than words can say! He fills me in on what’s been happening, like how they got to chat with a Tesla owner from New York. It’s nice to hear him talk about Tesla instead of how we should have a pet wallaby (his current joke).

I’ve done the Black Forest Trail before, but it’s hard to remember it all in the dark. I know this will come as a surprise, but there were some rocky, muddy sections, with some descending and some climbing. At spots it’s hard to follow the trail in the dark, along Callahan Run, probably because it’s not much of a trail at times.  Certain spots would come back to me, and I’d say, hey look, it’s clear and there would be an awesome view to see here if it wasn’t dark. I think we passed some people on the descent to Naval Run, but I’m sure they ended up passing me again later. Dylan informs me that Brooke instructed him to tell me run to the next reflector. Ha, of course she did! Once we get to Naval Run Road, I run all of it, so that should make Brooke happy! My son hid it well that he was feeling sick while he was out there, but he held it in until after he was done pacing me. We get to Hotel Manor around 12:40am. 

Aid station 11, mile 63.8. I change my muddy shoes and socks because I don’t trust my Saucony Peregrines once they get wet. I’ve had issues with my mid soles working their way out from under the insole. My sister made a last-minute decision to drive up for the race, and this is the first place I got to see her. I ate some things, enjoyed seeing more familiar faces, and then headed out with my pacer, Fran, for the next 16.5 mile section. The climb on the Black Forest Trail out of Slate Run is a big one that seems to never end. It seems like it’s over, and then it starts climbing again. Right before we started the climb, Ryan passed us and told his runner how I dropped him on this climb during the Black Forest 100K, and then they disappeared, dropping me this time. I am feeling pretty slow on the climbs and my legs feel like they have no power. It’s a shame we are missing the great views along this climb. Poor Fran got the worst section to pace. Once we are finally done with that climb, I try to move with purpose. We get a break from climbing and descending for a little while. Every time I’ve done this section on a training run, it ended up being miserable, so I was mentally prepared for it to suck. I think that helps it suck a little less. I check what time it is and look forward to the fact that, as the hours pass, we will soon be in daylight again. We hear the Algerines aid station before we see it, which is impressive for the ridiculous time of night. Or is it morning? 

Aid station 12, Algerines, mile 69.1. It’s around 3am. At this point I am done with anything sweet and only want salty foods. They talk me into sitting down by the fire for a few minutes. I think I had a hash brown that I had to wash down with broth because everything just sticks in my mouth. I see Luke again, and it’s nice to chat with Jeff, however it’s not so nice to get back up and moving on stiff legs. Fran and I head back out, and I’m prepared for the suckiest section, starting with another rocky descent that is hard to navigate in the dark. I probably complained about it a lot through here, just for something to talk about. We cross a gravel road and start climbing again. The more we climb, the harder it gets to follow the trail. Look for the next reflector and make your way towards it. It was hard enough to find the trail on our training run in the daylight! Once we are finally at the top, I complain some more about how long it seems to be taking to get to the next aid station. 

We finally get to the Long Branch aid station, mile 75.6. It’s almost 5am. Broth or soup are my preference at this point. We see David and Lea here, and I love when she sternly tells him it’s time to get moving. We head out close behind them. I’m looking forward to seeing the sunrise and making it to Blackwell. That seems like a big milestone in my mind, to make it that far and get this section behind me. We get a nice, foggy sunrise view along the West Rim Trail. 

David and Lea pass me, which means they missed a turn, because they had been in front of me. I’m impressed by how well he’s moving. Fran tells me I can catch the girls in front of us, which is something Brooke would say. I don’t really care about that at this point, but I do manage to pass them eventually. The descent seems to go on forever, and I whine some more about it. I watch my footing as I don’t want to go falling down the side of the mountain to the creek below. There is a big washed out section on the Bohen Trail that they have fixed since my last training run here, but that bridge seems a little sketchy. It’s probably because of that intimidating drop I just mentioned. There are some pirate flags along the trail, which makes me think of our PA Trail Dog pirates John and Larie. We finally get down to Blackwell, where I make a very pathetic attempt at getting my legs over the guard rail to the road, where we then cross the bridge over Pine Creek. 

Blackwell aid station, mile 80.3, 7:35 am. I have been moving for over 24 hours. It’s nice to see my crew again, and more familiar faces. Brooke already has some food picked out for me from the aid station. What do I need? I have no idea! I sit down and take my shoes off because there is dirt in them, and it feels like sandpaper to the bottom of my feet. The muscles in my legs and feet feel stiff and sore. I spend about 5-6 minutes at the aid station. After I get some food in me, I head out with Brooke for the last 23 miles. The only other time I’ve done this section was when I paced Brian two years ago. I think I prefer knowing what I’m in for, and I can’t remember this section well. I look forward to the view at Gillespie Point, but climbing feels really hard by now, and extremely slow. It’s only 4.5 miles to the Skytop aid station, but it seems to take a long time, probably because it did!  It’s a pretty section of trail, with a few stream crossings, but I’m not really appreciating it at this point. It’s nice to chat with Brooke. She is very encouraging and full of praise for me. Running has brought so many great people into my life.

Skytop aid station, mile 84.8, 9:26 am. They have an assortment of pancakes. Clayton tells me to sit down and eat some soup, and then before I know it he tells me I need to get up and move again! I was there for less than 10 minutes. 

Onward we go, with 6 miles to the next aid station. We spend what seems like a long time on grassy roads, which are totally runnable, but I refuse to run. I believe I spent some time whining to Brooke about not wanting to run through the grass, because somehow the grass made it feel hard. I felt bad that I was slowing down so much, yet I really didn’t care. Brooke mentions to me that my sister expressed an interest in pacing me the last 10 miles. She wanted to make me aware of that before we get there so I have time to think about it. It’s a tough decision, because I feel bad cutting my time short with Brooke. I don’t want to disappoint her, missing out on the last 10 miles with me, but then again it would be nice to spend some time chatting with my sister and sharing some of the beautiful trails and experience with her. I know it would mean a lot to both of us, but then I’ll miss out on that time with Brooke. Ugh! I know I originally said I needed Brooke to get me the last 20 miles, but by now we all know that I am the one that will be getting myself through the last miles. There is no doubt I am getting this done. The struggle I expected never came. 

Once we are back on a trail, I manage to do some running. There are some pretty sections with lots of ferns. (If you want a course description, you’re not really getting it here, but there’s a great description on the race website.) We get to a gravel road, which we run to the aid station, but again it seems to take forever. I’m met with disappointment every time we come around a turn, with no aid station in sight yet. I run when I can, and then I finally see it!

Barrens aid station, mile 92.8, 12pm. Hi Debbie and Nicole! Another great aid station where I am asked what I need, and I have no idea how to respond. I look at what they have and get something to eat and drink. My crew is getting my sister ready to pace, with a pacer bib and a waiver.  We head out of the aid station, leaving my husband very confused as to what just happened. He thought it was a train wreck because he knew I felt very strongly that Brooke pace me to the finish, so why was Stacy with me? He wasn’t aware of the conversation Brooke and I had while she was pacing me. I still feel bad that Brooke wasn’t with me those last 10 miles, but I enjoyed sharing the experience with my sister. I slowed down A LOT those last few miles, and I know Brooke would have tried to push me, in the nicest way possible. I’m not sure if I could have handled that mentally, but I’m sure I would have told her in my whiny way. I have 6.3 miles to the next aid station. This is another section that I have never done before, and I find myself wishing I had, so that I would know what I was in for. I try to run when I can, but it all feels terrible anymore. There are no major climbs, but even going downhill feels bad. I enjoy talking to my sister, and eventually we make it to the aid station.

Hacketts aid station, mile 99.1, 2:30pm. Eat, drink, it’s all a blur, but the volunteers are fun. We head back out, and it’s downhill, which hurts. Really, everything hurts at this point. We cross a gravel road and briefly see my family, and we also see Tracy driving by. She says she will be sweeping this section later and doesn’t want to see me. “Only” 3.8 miles to the finish, but it feels like a death march. I was tired of climbing, and yet downhill wasn’t any better. I know the last part of the course to the finish, Panther Run, and I’m looking forward to getting to it, but where is it? We climbed on the Mid State Trail, and then we start descending, which is confusing me because I thought we descended on Panther Run. I didn’t realize that Panther Run wasn’t the top of the mountain! We keep going down, with no sight of Panther Run. How is this possible? I complain about this quite a bit! I’m sure it felt much longer with how tired and sore I was. Even though it was downhill, I am extremely slow. I am passed by people these last few miles, but I don’t care. I will finish this race in time, and that is all that matters anymore. 

I finally see the Panther Run sign! We have about a mile or less on the ridgetop before the last steep descent.  Of course, we take photos of the rattlesnake den! Thankfully none of them are out on the trail. There are a lot of cool rock formations on this ridge, but I’m still hating every step I take.  

We get to the final steep descent, and I am so happy to hear people and see the road down below! As I make my way down, pathetically slow, I think of Bob and me running down this hill last year at Call of the Wilds. I’m certainly not about to run down it now! Once down, we cross the road and make our way through the parking lot and across the grass to the finish line. I slowly run to the finish line, so happy to be done, yet not really feeling any of the emotions I expected to feel. I think I felt more emotion coming down the last descent, knowing the end was in sight. RD Dave Walker is at the finish line with a smile on his face, along with my family, crew, and friends. I can finally stop moving! I tell Dave I don’t want to do Black Forest 100K, but he says I should give it a few days. He gives me my buckle and a hug. I am given my finisher jacket and BOCO Gear backpack. I don’t like beer, but when Dave hands me a New Trail beer, I sit down and drink it! It’s been a long 35 hours and 12 minutes! 

I did it! I finished this beast of a race, Eastern States 100! I don’t have a desire to run another 100 miler, but I can see myself possibly doing this one again in the future. Maybe… I have so many experiences on different sections of this course, from other trail races and training runs, and that plays a big part in my love for this course. It’s rocky, brutal, and yet so beautiful! I’ll be back next year, preferably as crew or a volunteer. I can’t say thank you enough to my family, crew, and friends for the support and encouragement, and all the awesome volunteers that make this race possible! I can’t imagine all that goes into putting on an event like this, and 100 miles is a lot of trails to clear. Thank you, Luke, Christian, and everyone that helped clear the trails! Thank you to the original RD Craig for creating this race, and thank you, Dave, for taking over as RD. I hope this race continues for many years.