Traprock 50k- Crap, rocks, 50k

“Never give yourself an out. If you said you’d run halfway and then evaluate it, you’d drop at the half. If you said you’d see how you felt, you’d drop when it got dark or when it got cold or just when you got tired. When you lined up at each race, you had to tell yourself that if you bled from every pore, if your feet broke off and you had to run on your splintering shinbones, if monkeys flew out of the sky with AK-47S that shot ninja swords, you were still finishing that race.”- Mishka Shubaly, I Swear I’ll Make It Up to You

Connecticut, like much of the north east, doesn’t have that gnarly fearsome reputation for being a hardened trail racer’s nightmare. No one ever expresses deep concerns about their upcoming ultra in… Connecticut. I, too, shared this view, having pride in my western Massachusetts and Vermont/New Hampshire mountain and trail running experience. On April 16^th, 2016… in humble Bloomfield, CT, my pride goeth before the fall. And I certainly fell.

The race and race directors were great. The race was held in Penwood State Park along the Metacomet trail. The 50k consisted of 3 times around a 10 mile lollipop loop. There was also a 17k race, consisting of only 1 time around the same loop. The 50k started at 8:30am, the 17k at 9:30am, and we had 9 hours to finish. Any and all extra money from the race goes to Connecticut Forest and Parks Association, right back to the land that hosts us.

Dags and I, hoping to emerge later a Trap King and Trap Queen

So, right, here’s how it goes. Jeremy, who apparently has nothing better going on in his life, graciously offered to drive Erik (17k-er) and myself down to the race, he would hang out, and then drive us all home, an unspoken hero. We got to the race a bit early and had time to hang out, which meant I had time to realize that it was WAY warmer than most mornings have been. Did I actively start drinking water at this point? Nah. Soon fellow New Jersian, RVRR runner, and friend John D’ags and Gisa-saurus arrive. Dags was in for 50k along with his friend also from the Boston area, NP-Reed. Gisa, in a delicate state of AWESOME opted to not run 30 miles but instead hang out and get a haircut and massage, smart lady that Gisa. After a brief trail meeting about something important probably, the director literally shouts “Okay.. let’s start I guess.. 3-2-1 go” and that’s that.

So I’ll describe loop one to really showcase the course. You start by climbing up a few hills immediately, like from the first 30 steps. After a while, the climb evens out and you get a nice long downhill during the 2^nd mile. This takes you passed a road juncture, where you will emerge later. The downhill descends into a swampy area of rocky road type trail, which is gross to run on in my opinion. Then you have the second large climb, and this one is steep and unforgiving. After you get to the top of this climb, there is a pretty wonderful overlook, which is probably one of the highest points in CT for miles. For the next mile and a half, you have found the rocks. Rocks on rocks on rocks. Large rocks, small rocks, pointy rocks, round rocks. All these rocks were fun on loop 1! Technical running, nice breeze, this is what it is all about! The course reminded me of one of my favorite poems, as written and spoken by Albert Markovski:

“The rock just sits and is!”

Anyway, you come down a steepish hill into Aid Station 1. Now, most of my trail races so far haven’t been as pricey as this one and were primarily TARC events (with the exception of the Endurance Society race). TARC, also a no frills event, had humble but plentiful aids. This race had a ton of stuff at this random AS only 3 miles into the race. I mean all kinds of snacks, water, heed, medics, music, portajohns, everything you think you could want or need. While that was more important later on, for loop 1 I didn’t even stop but just ran through.

After the AS, you run a nice singletrack out and back, seems just to add an extra mile or two. After you turn around, you come back and split away before you get all the way to the first AS only to find another fully stocked AS not too far away on the same cut through road. Now we are about 4.5 to 5 miles into the course.  The course now climbs a long steady hill. Up until this point in loop 1, I had been near and chatting with Dags, catching up and all that. He was saying how bad he is at downhills but loves those uphills. During this long hill, I see him smile, laugh, and crank away going “Uphills baby! Wooo!” which was awesome. He should consider (1) moving to Boston and (2) running the Mountain Goat series!

along the middle of one of the climbs

The next couple miles are just a ridge line stretch, rolling along, with some beautiful cut out views. Then you turn left into another AS, equally as stocked. Then you run on a road for a bit. The road was clearly once paved and drivable, but it is kind of amazing how nature, particularly the tree roots, have torn it up. In a few years it will be trail once more. Right along this road I saw Jeremy, hanging out, probably bored. This road runs you down to that junction with the beginning on the course, and then you rejoin going back towards the start/finish. This last section was my least favorite, a long steady climb in and then rolling hills up to a high point and then a steep descent. You come out of the woods, cross the check in point, get some food/water, and then repeat x2. 31 miles.

Loop 1 was great. I think I finished in 2:04 or close. I was ahead of pace but feeling really good. This was probably the biggest problem. I was high on racing and wasn’t getting ahead on hydration. Most others could probably still catch up at this point with some heed and water. However, I am not just any normal individual— let’s talk about SWEAT. If sweating were a marketable skill, I’d be a self-made millionaire. My sweat output per mile is unbelievable in ALL weather and any conditions. I could speed walk a mile naked in the Boston winter and probably have a decent sweat in the makes. While this is gross and problematic in long hot races, I am not ashamed or embarrassed by this. I sweat, get over it. I still have managed to run with people  without managing to disgust them away. The most annoying thing is when I hear anyone complain that they think they sweat a ton. It’s usually perfectly manicured thin girls who know they don’t sweat a lot but make the claim that way when they have a single moist halo around their ellipticaled forehead everyone can comment that they don’t sweat. Shoot me. Anyway, I take pride in my sweatshop and have embraced the nickname donned upon me by Ryan and Ben. I even take pride in my collection of this statement, whom a few people have said to me: “You are the only person I know who may sweat more than me.” Hilarious.

So sweat is the friend-enemy, and the heat from a mild 60-65 degree day was enough to juice me in the first 10 miles so much that I had to slow and relax for much of the remainder of the race. My vision was blurry, my heart rate was spiking and taking a long time to recover, and I had all the symptoms of incipient dehydration and fatigue and still half the race to complete.

I ended up walking/running briefly for the last 13 miles. Jeremy joined me for this long section and I really enjoyed his company, talking when I wanted to, but more importantly—shutting the fuck up most of the time. This final lap was long, but once you start it there is no quitting and that is all I really cared about at this point.

Head down, like an amateur

At some point during this final lap, an older woman ran up and caught me. I spoke to her to tell her to keep on crushing it, and when I heard her speak, I realized that it was Katya! This amazing woman Seth had introduced to me over a year ago and who inspired me from her stories that day. We went together for a mile or so. I told her I fell once and was just happy to still have all my teeth—she told me about when she fell running the Mt. Olympus ultra in Greece and busted her jaw, lost her teeth, and was bleeding on the mountain. She is incredibly badass and I thought about her for much of my final miles, as I tried to pick it up and run again.

The legend herself– Katya!

I finished with a disappointing 7:40. That is a LONG time to be on the trails. The course was tough, the website claimed 2300ft of gain per loop but my watch thinks less—5000ft total. Lots of technical sections, but also lots of easy path. I should’ve done better, but I did walk away learning a lesson and still feeling accomplished for finishing. Hey, if you have a 9 hr cut off, I might take the whole time. Going forward, I think I will just avoid hot ultras. I can’t change my sweat, but I can choose when I decide to spend 6+ hrs in the sun. I don’t have much planned for the summer after Pinelands anyway, just Mt. Washington Road Race and possibly Mt. Greylock trail half the day after!

Dags finished about an hour ahead of me looking great! He took a magic Advil before loop 3 and said it changed everything. He’s even considering a 50 miler soon. NP Reed came in not too long after me, also looking happy! All in all, fun day and GREAT race. Big congrats to Erik for finishing second in his race, and almost looping me despite starting nearly an hour later.

Oooo, purple!

One final important, and quite sad event. This race was the farewell tour for my WT110s, the LAST PAIR. I mean a real farewell tour, too. Not like the Cher farewell tour, (my shoes have been on that trip for months). They are so beat up–there is no midsole anymore and the shoe is peeling away. I couldn’t sideline them for the race. I love them so much, but they were such a pain in the foot and ass for 20 miles. I could feel every step, they were just not worth it. I tried to throw them out at the race, but ended up just leaving them in Jeremy’s car for him to dispose of. If I took them inside, I would probably try to justify wearing them again for another run. WT110s were kind of an addiction… a bad habit that I had to kick.

No midsole = mud foot! (sorry for the gross foot pic, too I suppose)

RIP: The Final Pair of WT110s Probably In the World

You were a great pair of shoes, snug in the forefoot but not too tight on my toes. I loved the connection you allowed me to have with the ground, able to run carefully through the rocks and roots of the Northeast. Sure, I dabbled with other shoes while you were around and I’m sorry. I knew your light was dimming and I just wanted to make this transition easier for me. I’ll never forget you, WT110s, and I’m glad you were with me for a final ultra. I know you weren’t the most popular shoe, but to me, you were everything. Rest easy, and this weekend I’ll pour one out for you while I wear Topo MT2s.

Okay so time to summarize all the lessons.

• Drink. Fucking. Water. All. The. Time.
• Repeat the above.
• Maybe try advil? Who knows!
• Drink water.
• Make Fetty Wap proud #TrapQueen
• Armed monkeys be fucking damned, I finished.