Catawba

This was probably the weirdest 35 miles I've ever run. Short version goes like this: Cold, friends,stomach hurt, stomach felt better, snow drift knee to thigh high, rocks, no rocks, more snow, snowman, snowballs, cliffs, hot, no shirt, strong sun, more snow, McAfee's Knob, sloppy mud, everyone and their mom, unseasonable snake, hanging at aid station, run, walk, run, slippery snow, field, finish in 1st (but it wasn't a race). Drive.

The course was hard, and actually that's a bit of an understatement, but it was made harder by the strange snow conditions and the warm temps...and even those are two things that don't normally go together.

Most people use the run as an excuse to get to the mountains and see trails they don't normally run on, at least that's the way I was treating it. That being said, it is an awesome event that hits some pretty defining parts of the Virginia portion of the Appalachian Trail.

I drove down on Friday night after traffic had subsided so I got down to the area around midnight. I slept in my car in the parking lot of the hotel where most everyone was staying mainly because I was too cheap to get myself a hotel room. I woke up early after a few hours of shut eye and went to the B and B where the start and finish is located. The people that own it are incredibly kind and have let Keith put this event on for years.

The start area was full of people gathering last minute supplies and we were all glad that daylight savings time was Sunday instead of Saturday so no one had to run with a headlamp to start. Gary was running around the parking area semi-forcing people to eat Krispy Kreme doughnuts courtesy of Quatro before they started running. In a brief lapse of judgement I succumbed to the temptation of a greasy/slimy doughnut and by the time I realized my mistake, the doughnut was already down the old gullet.

A few words were spoken, and we were off. This year the circuit was run in the opposite (clockwise) direction so we'd be heading up to Dragon's Tooth first. A couple miles into the run I was running with Sean Andrish, Drew Krueger, and Jeremy Ramsey. We ran most of the climb but then the doughnut was wreaking some havoc. I made a brief trip to the woods quite a ways off trail and was fine after but was now several minutes behind the other 3 guys. I ran by myself up to the top of Dragon's Tooth enjoying watching the sun rise higher in the sky and finding my way through the mess that is the rock scramble before reaching the intersection at the top.

Dragons Tooth

I crossed paths with Sean, Drew and Jeremy while they were on their way back from the Tooth. I saw the towering rocks, snapped a couple pics and turned around. I caught up with them just before the intersection and ran the rest of the way down to the first aid station with them. As we reached the aid station, nature called and luckily there was a bathroom in the parking lot the aid station was in. When I came out, they were already gone. I wasn't too worried about it as I had a map in my pack, but it did mean that I'd have to run by myself on trails I hadn't been on before and were not marked.

The next section is notorious for its PUDs after the initial climb. The ridge is just piles of Pointless Ups and Downs. It's like running on an amplified boring part of a roller coaster. They are rarely dangerously steep, but they still drive you nuts. People who had done this event several times said there were 36 of them over 9 miles or so. Adding to the slight annoyance was a new obstacle: deep, windblown snow drifts. Some were deep enough to stop you in your tracks making progress very slow and exhausting. THOUGH, subtracting greatly from the misery that these things caused were the views. They were incredible. The temperature was warming drastically and having no leaves on the trees meant you could see on either side of the ridge. Beautiful.

After about an hour or so I caught up to the group just as Jeremy was emptying sticks from his shoe and stating he had some stomach pains. We all figured that he'd catch back up, but we didn't see him for the rest of the day. Drew, Sean and I rolled through the hills and snow and finally made it to the intersection that took us down to the second aid station at mile 17 ish. The three of us hung out there eating and drinking for far longer than I think any of us would in a race. Brian Schmit joined us for the next section as he planned to run with whoever was in front so he could get to his car (the third aid station) with whoever got there first. That next climb was a good little kick in the teeth. Very steep. Somewhere along this climb we lost Sean and Drew and came upon a couple of people who didn't really know what this trail had in store for them. If I had to guess, they didn't get all the way to the cliffs at the top.

HI RUN

Brian and Sean Tinker Cliffs

 Brian and I decided to make a snowman on our way up. We wanted it to say, "Hey Sean" or "Hey Drew," but both had too many letters in their name to spell out in sticks so we settled for, "HI, Run." On the switchbacks toward the end, we could see Sean way down below and slowed down as we got close to Tinker Cliffs so we could run with him.

 

Tinker Cliffs

He joined us in fighting the still snowy but now, warm conditions. We descended the saddle and started the long climb up to McAfee's Knob, the very distinctive rock formation that also appears on the AT Virginia license plates. After a long long time climbing and sliding around because of the slushy snow, Brian and I arrived at the Knob but had lost Sean in the mix. There are actually two vistas. We went to the first one but missed the turn off for the second (and more popular) one. The view was still amazing.

From McAfee's, we sloshed our way down the 4 miles or so to the parking lot splashing in the mud puddles, slipping on the snow and passing huge groups of day-hikers headed up to the Knob. Everyone and their mom was out on the trail. I figured I'd wait for Sean when we reached the parking lot because I wanted to run with someone and Drew showed up next. After learning that Drew didn't pass Sean we figured somewhere along the way, Sean must have taken a wrong turn. I must have spent 20-25 minutes in that aid station but Drew and I finally left and decided to take it easy for the last section. The problem was, I kind of just wanted to be done by that point. The moving had been so slow because of the snow and slush and my feet were soaked, so I ran ahead. The last section is very pretty ridge running but again was very sloppy and hard to get into any kind of rhythm.

Not sure why he was pointing in almost every pic I took...
McAfee's Knob

Finally I came off the mountain, dashed across the field and up the road. I wrote down my finishing time which was 2:20 pm. Yep. That's 7:50 for 35 miles. That's almost 13:30 per mile! It wasn't until I did the math that I realized how slow I was going. A few minutes later, Drew came in and then Joe Dudak, then a couple of Virginia Tech guys. The snow was really an equalizer. Eh, at least it was fun.

Buckhollow, Mary's Rock, and the past

A couple of weekends ago I went for a run around the Buckhollow loop with the addition of adding Mary's Rock with my friend, Matt. The day itself was unseasonably warm as within a mile up the first climb both of us decided it was warm enough to go shirtless. It was the first time in 2013 and it was still February! The loop itself is pretty much 3 miles up and then 3 miles down, and add in an extra mile to each direction if you do Mary's Rock as well. For the first loop we opted to go all the way up. As we started the trail up to the top, I realized that I hadn't been on that trail since middle school.

For middle school and high school, I wasn't very athletic, and unless it involved being on a bike or playing baseball, I wasn't too keen on being active in general. During elementary and middle school, my parents would drag us out to Mary's Rock listening to John Denver or Bob Seger the entire way. The Bob Seger will haunt me forever (even though, somehow the John Denver has grown on me a little bit, but don't tell my parents). I didn't appreciate the woods, and hiking up hill for a mile was work, and my legs always hurt. I hated the way up.

But my parents did know how to entice their four kids to climb a mountain - food. My dad would pack up a big backpack with a Coleman stove, the gas for it, eggs, bacon, rolls, condiments, apple juice and orange juice mixed together (if you haven't tried it, you must), water, plates, napkins, wet wipes and utensils. He would lug all of this up there and then cook for us on the overlook. It was great eating, but inevitably the eggs would burn, the bacon may or may not be on fire right before you eat it, and of course someone would end up in tears because they were sticky from the juice. But being up there and scrambling around the rocks and then eating like that was definitely worth the struggle to get up there. The way down was great, we'd all pretend we were running with deer or escaping the bad guys or something along those lines. Running down felt effortless, jumping from rock to root, back to rock, was a feeling I don't often forget. Of course we couldn't run the whole way down because someone would need a piggy back ride.

While Matt and I were out there, I was able to remember every step of that mile. How, soon after the initial steep part leaving the parking lot it smooths out for a few yards. And how you pass an old chimney and then it gets technical. Also, after you reach the saddle section, you make a right on the AT and then a left soon after that and then it gets really rocky. It was only a mile, though, it felt a lot longer when we used to do it. It was just as rocky as I remember and the top was just as awe-inspiring.

Running up, the cloud cover was thick. I was worried we wouldn't be able to see anything at the top. Sure enough, we walked across the 10 ft of sandy flat portion at the top and continued onto the uneven rocks looking at nothing. I couldn't have been more disappointed. It had been years since I'd been up there and I wanted it to look the same and all it looked like was a sea of white/gray emptiness. I had brought my camera but didn't even bother to take it out. I explained to Matt what we were supposed to be seeing: The Massanuttens, Luray, Rt 211 and Skyline Drive. I told him that the cars on it are supposed to look like tiny Lego vehicles. Part of me wondered how much of what I remembered was actually part of it, and maybe the sights weren't as grand as I remembered.    

 Matt just as the clouds were parting

 Rt 211, there is a car in the picture

Some random dude behind me losing his balance...

Just when we were going to start going back down to complete the loop, I saw a faint mountain in the distance. The clouds were dissipating right in front of us! Within a minute we could see the tops of the mountains next to us and a few across. Before too long we could see down the cliffs. Everything was just as I remembered.

Last week was MMT training run #3, the last 40 miles of the course. It was surprisingly cold and snowy, even though the couple days before it had been pretty warm. The run itself was largely uneventful, I came, I ran and I left. The run itself just sort of seemed like a blur. I didn't think much, which could be a good thing or a bad thing. I didn't feel very invested in it, I just wanted to see that part of the course again without markings. Overall though, it was a good day to run in the mountains.

Humility

This weekend I had the pleasure of running in the snow-capped mountains of the Massanutten course. It was the 2^nd “training weekend” that the race organizers put on in order to show the entrants the course ahead of time. This run was nothing short of magical. As weird and some-what hippy as that sounds, the flawless symphony of the crisp, cold, and humid Virginia air, the smooth transitions between damp lower part of the mountains to snow-blanketed upper portions and the company of other runners out there humbled me far more than I could do on my own.

Humility is an interesting trait; especially for this day in age when the entire world seems to be in a constant cycle of proving themselves better for no reason in particular. All it takes is one look around the streets: people flaunting wealth with expensive cars and jewelry. The majority of reality shows have people just bragging how awesome they are, (most) sports stars' interviews are chock full of self-praising anecdotes. It’s quite saddening to say the least.   

The beauty of the ultra running community, aside from being a great group of like-minded-people who enjoy the mountains, is the fact that everyone’s humility is overwhelming. Standing around before the run in the Short Mountain/Elizabeth Furnace parking lot there was chatter about various people who had just completed some incredible running feats in preparation for other great running feats. I won’t name names mainly because I think they wouldn’t want me to. One guy just finished The White Oak Trail 100 (TWOT) last weekend. Solo. They actually changed the course so it turned out to be roughly 108 miles with 28,000 feet of elevation gain. There were rumors of the winds over-night gusting to 70 mph along the ridges. The organizer pointed this out. His response as he aimed his gaze downward while fiddling with his heart-rate monitor? “It wasn’t a record, but thank you.” He did, however, come within 15 minutes of it on an 8-mile-longer course. Impressive to say the least. He did this in preparation for the Barkley Marathons next month. If you don’t know about Barkley, look it up.

I ran with a friend for the whole 30 miles on Saturday. He is an accomplished ultra-runner, though of course, he’d never admit to it. Part of what makes his success remarkable is the fact that he has a rare condition that causes seizures multiple times per month. Once, he was in the middle of a 100k race where there was a 50k going on at the same time. The 50 and 100k were on the same course for the first half and on the way to the 50k turnaround he had a seizure. He decided to switch to the 50k vs. the 100 and still won the race. Of course, I didn’t get this from him. His comment? “I was lucky the race directors were nice enough to let me switch mid-race.” He considers himself lucky because though he may have some trouble sometimes and is not able to drive, he can still run. His mom and dad have difficulty at times as well, who have MS and rather severe scoliosis respectively and ran a 50 miler together recently.

At the finish line parking lot, a group of us hung out while people trickled in. There was a guy getting ready to run the Iditarod 350 mile foot race. (Yes, that is the race the sled dogs run.) He has already run the Arrowhead 135 (all in snow) and one other long snow race (that I forgot). He answered questions very matter-of-factly about the sled he has to pull with all of his gear but never once did he seem egotistical about his answers.

Of course, pretty much everyone there has a rather impressive background. There was the woman who finished Western States 100 and then 2 weeks later finished Badwater...more than once. There was the rather accomplished old ultra runner who rode his bike 30 miles that day (one way) just to bring his friend apple-sauce. And there was a guy who has finished Massanutten twice, both within 5 minutes of the cut off.

Normally, the beauty of the mountains humbles me enough. But I left on Saturday feeling extra refreshed and with a new sense of respect for our whole mountain-running culture. Maybe it was the 30 beautiful mountain miles, but I think it was the refreshing personalities that this sport tends to attract. I think the rest of the world could learn a few things from the ultra running community. 

picture by Tom (VHTRC)

How to make mistakes and lose a race

Saturday I ran the ICY-8 Hour race put on by Alex and Scott. The race consists of an 8 mile loop or a 4.7 mile loop. And racers run any combination of the loops to try to maximize your mileage in the 8 hour time limit. Every time you come to the aid station you shout out whether you did a long loop or a short one and then at the end they tally it all up. Really, the only rule is you have to finish the last loop before the end. No partial laps will count.

In the few days before the race I had dissected the past results, records and the course to see what it would take to win it and what it would take to beat the course record of 54.1. I thought the course record was well within my potential and that I’d give it a try. If I ran 7 large loops, I’d do that no problem. Simple enough.

The weather lived up to the name of the race, and I had icicles in my beard throughout the entire race. Alex sent us off at exactly 7:30 am and a group of 6 or 7 of us ran pretty much the entire first loop together. Everyone opted for the 8 mile. We had to run the first loop clockwise but after that it was a free for all. Any loop, any direction. Also in the lead group was a kid named Brian Q who is friends with my little sister and wanted to get into ultrarunning. He’s 18 and a senior at Brooke Point. He’d never run further than 20 miles before and thought he’d come out and see what he could do.

When we got back to the aid station I grabbed some gels and left within about 10 seconds. I ran alone the rest of the day never knowing what loop anyone what doing, who was leading, where I was in the standings, etc. I’d pass people throughout the day, sometimes going the same direction, sometime crossing paths, but the entire day was a mystery. All I could do was run hard for the allotted time, stick to my plan and hope it worked.

I finished 4 long loops adding up to 32 miles in about 4:17 and came into the aid station feeling good. I shoved my face with a bit of pb and j so I didn’t get hungry and bolted back to the trail. About a half a mile from the aid station I realized I hadn’t grabbed any gels. It was a stupid mistake and I shouldn’t have made it, but I wasn’t about to run back to the aid station and sacrifice that time. I had to decide whether I would still run the 8 mile loop and risk getting behind on my nutrition or if I should just run a short loop and then get back to the aid station sooner. I opted for the short loop.

The whole time I was running that loop I was doing math, trying to figure out in my head if I stayed on the current pace, what I’d have to do to still run the mileage I wanted. I figured that upon finishing the short loop I was on, it would be about 12:30, meaning I’d have 3 more hours on the nose until the end. If I could run two more long loops and one more short loop, I’d snag the mileage I needed.  

Everything seemed to be falling into place. I wasn’t fatiguing, I was running steady, the weather was cold, but not bitter.

The last long loop took a few minutes longer than expected but at that point I had run 52.7 miles and had 35 minutes to cover the last 4.7 mile loop. I reached the aid station and bolted without grabbing any more water or gels. I wanted to go as light as possible for a final push.

After running pretty hard all day, the mid-section of the loop was difficult for me, and as I started to calculate what I’d need to do, I knew it was going to be close. At the “one mile to go” sign, I had 4 minutes before 3:30. I’ve never run a 4 minute mile and quite frankly, I’m not sure I ever will…especially after running (at that point) 56.4 miles. At 3:30 on the dot, I realized that lap wouldn’t count so I stopped sprinting and even walked a bit, finishing the last lap 4 minute over the cut off.

I had a fun day out there and cannot say that I didn’t try hard for it. 57.4 miles in 8:04. 52.7 of those miles counted landing me in second to a guy who’d done mostly short loops and ran 53.6 miles. Should’ve stuck to the plan. It’s bitter-sweet but in all it was a good day and a good training run for Massanutten…even though it was pretty flat comparatively and not technical. Alex and Scott put on great events and I’ll definitely be back for more.

Plus! My friend, Brian Q, ran 38 miles for his first ultra-distance event! He seemed to have fun too, which is even better. 

Outside

Any day where I can be outside during the majority of the hours of the day is a good day. And any weekend I can get to the mountains is a good weekend. And any weekend that is a three day weekend is bound to be good. This weekend ruled.

Saturday Katie and I took off to meet my parents at Massanutten to do a little skiing where my dad is part of their volunteer ski patrol. The temperature started off cold so the mountain was a bit icy but as the day warmed up...as it always does in Virginia, the icy stuff got pretty soft, and made for some decent conditions. Katie and I took a picture at the top of the mountain and realized we had a picture like that when we were young before we were dating.

This is us now. 

This was us then. I've known her for a long time. 

Sunday I went out to the VHTRC's Massanutten Mountain Trails 100 training run. 85 people started! I love that so many people come out and run in the mountains just for fun. I got there with about 30 seconds to spare so as the group left the parking lot, I was still putting on my pack. I ran with a mountain-biker named Kyle, AJW and a girl named Emily. AJW is an incredibly accomplished ultrarunner completing Western States in the top ten 7 times. But, as he is returning from a knee injury, we continued up the first climb without him. When we got to the top Emily told us about how she is also training for Western States and after asking her about her qualifier, turns out she came in 2nd at the JFK 50 last year. She too, was under the old course record. Yikes. 

This "fun run" attracted two pretty big named people. It was a bit intimidating but they were both very nice and Emily and I ended up running the whole thing together because neither of us were 100% sure on where to go at certain spots and Kyle bolted off as soon as we got to the top of Kearns mountain because he runs up there all the time and said he knew the trail really well. We didn't see him the rest of the day. 

The view off of Bird Knob

Emily and I meandered through the woods the rest of the day and ended back at the same parking lot we started in just as they were lighting the fire. Everyone who had cut the run a bit short was hanging out, there was food, beverage, fire and dogs. Good times. 

Crocs are a thing....

Monday I met up with my friend Scott and his dog, Henry, at the Buck Hollow trail to get some miles in on MLK Day. I had never done that trail before, but it turned out to be a great day as well. 

The highest little bump of rocks up there is Mary's Rock. My mom and dad used to take us up there for hikes. My dad would pack this giant red backpack full of food and a camp stove and cook us eggs and bacon up there.

Scott and Henry leading the way. 

When we got back to the car, after 17 or 18 miles Henry promptly fell asleep on the ground. Scott had to wake him up and coax him into the car with treats. 

All in all, solid weekend.

Willis River 50k

First race of 2013 I thought I'd have some fun at a race I'd done before. In fact, Willis River is the changed name of Swinging Bridge 50k with slight course modifications. Swinging Bridge was my first ultra, so this race has some sentimental value to me. That being said, I felt terrible during the race.

A lot of my friends were there and when I showed up, we started visiting and I may have forgotten to pack even close to enough gels for the run. We started off down the trail in about 50 something degree humid weather and quickly realized that it was going to be hard to stay on course. Myself and three other guys led the race and as we came around one corner about 3 miles in, we saw all these runners up ahead entering the trail from a side trail! So we went from top 4 to 15th or so. They didn't realize they were off course. That time we realized that we were right, and everyone else was off course, but that's just the way it goes sometimes. So we all sped up a bit and caught back up, and then the same thing happened in another spot where we were 99% positive we were all going the right way only to have people scooting in from a side trail and us having to catch back up. We got lost or off track, or stayed on track while everyone else wasn't on 3 more times on our way to the 10 mile turn-around. It was a little bit frustrating and we may have burned up a little bit more energy than we should have trying to catch back up to everyone who had passed us.

BUT! As we were running along after leaving the first aid station the four of us heard a jingling behind us. A husky that we figured belonged to one of the aid station workers had followed us. Then a few minutes later another dog, this time a white pit bull mix caught up to us and joined our pack. At one point he was following me so closely I accidentally caught him in the jaw with my foot. I just heard this little clap and when I looked back he was licking his lips and smiling at me while wagging his tail. 

At the turn around we were down to three in the little front pack and we retraced our steps back to the beginning only getting off trail once. At least that was an improvement. On our way back, one of the guys dropped off the back shortly after passing the 5 mile aid station and the other guy dropped off about 2 miles from the 35k mark. I got back to the beginning first ahead of the 35k runners and started the last out and back section. 5 miles out, 5 miles back - roughly. I wish the dogs would have stayed with us, or just me.

I was feeling pretty crummy at the start of this section and just tried to relax and run everything. I was pretty close to being out of Hammer gel in my little flask so I just tried to ration that out in smaller increments. The trail was undulating so it was a little hard for me to get into any kind of rhythm during the short little kickers and descents. Though, just before you get to the turn around, the trail gets beautiful. It was dull gray and hazy all day - just stomping around the leaves, not really on any sort of trail, just blindly following streamers and markings - and then out of nowhere it was like running on a trail in the Pacific Northwest. I haven't been there but I've seen pictures and there were lots of ferns and moss. It was very strange but not entirely unwelcome. I hit the turnaround and filled my hand bottle and looked at my watch to see how long I had on the 2nd place guy. I passed him after running for 5 minutes, so I had 10 minutes on him. I figured as long as I didn't take any naps or pull the old tortoise and the hare, I could grab first.

The way back, I didn't really feel like running anymore so I just kept running so that I could be done sooner. I was chilly and wet with sweat and just not in a great place mentally. But I crossed the finish line in 4:25:03 in first. Not my fasted 50k, but definitely my fastest on the course by about 35 minutes. Last time I ran it I was first in 5:11 in -2 Fahrenheit. I'm proud to say that it was the slowest winning time in course history.

A Horton Ultra - for the first-timer

I know quite a few people currently training for the Holiday Lake 50k so I figured I'd toss this out there so you know (a little bit) of what to expect. As anyone who has run one of the legendary Dr. David Horton's races can attest, it is not your standard ultramarathon. Ultras are different from marathon's for several reasons, most of them not relating to the actual  distance at all. The sense of community and belonging for one is overwhelming at times as everyone, I mean everyone, is very welcoming and genuinely happy at the event. People may be out there for different reasons, some to simply finish, some to race hard, and some to overcome other obstacles in life, yet everyone respects whatever your reasons for being out there.

Even between ultras, races are very different. Some have a very hyped feel to them with huge banners and inflatable sponsors signs, camera interviews with the "elites" of the sport, and prize money. But the vast majority of them have a down-home feel. There might be a banner, or just a spray-painted start/finish line where at the end there is a barbecue or family cooking for the racers.

Horton's races are closer to the latter but with an incredible feeling of fun professionalism about them. They have killer finishing awards, great volunteers, amazing locations and guaranteed fun courses. They always start with the national anthem and a prayer and finish with a hearty smile and a firm handshake or hug.

Holiday Lake is no different.

Step one, getting to the race: Driving there is not unlike most ultras as it starts at a camp ground where cell service may or may not be present, so don't rely on your phone's GPS. There are several miles of gravel road where it looks like you're driving to the middle of nowhere where you may or may not run into a young boy playing a banjo. Just follow the directions, you'll get there. Don't eat before you go to the pre-race meal unless you hate good food.

Step two, the actual race: The race consists of two loops, one clock-wise, one counter clock-wise. The race starts in the dark, so I'd recommend bringing a small headlamp that will fit in a pocket because you won't need it for very long and probably won't want it squeezing your head for the first 16.ish miles until you get back to the start/halfway point. It is possible to get through without a headlamp but you'll have to rely and latch onto someone else's light and they might be going faster/slower than you want to go. Plus, as I learned last year, if you do rely on someone else's light, depth perception is compromised and tripping is more likely. Aid stations are only about 4-5 miles apart so it is doable without a handbottle, but if you want to get through the aid stations a bit quicker and only stop at every other one, you can use one bottle. Two is over kill. The aid stations are stocked with the usual ultra food. Sandwiches, candy, chips, cookies, potatoes etc.

The following main race description was largely copied from the website. But before you read the course description, know that there may be a lot of turns but Horton's races are marked the best out of any race I've ever done. If you run for more than 3 minutes (less if you're running fast) without seeing a streamer or chalk, or some other blatantly obvious marking, you're going the wrong way. He marks turns for the directionally-impaired. If you get lost, you will get made fun of. Letting you know now.

For only about .6 miles you run up a hill on the road. This little kicker will make you wonder whether the friend who told you that "it is a course for fast times and road running marathoners" was lying through their teeth. They weren't chill out. Then you turn right on the Lakeside Trail ( LT ).  This trail is not very technical and is just rolling hills. Not "Horton hills" they really are just hills. Follow the LT to a small bridge at the end of Holiday Lake at 1.78 miles. Turn right and follow the trail next to the edge of the lake and cutting across the park next to the sandy beach and picnic tables picking back up the LT after crossing the road at 2.05 miles. Just before the trail, there is a little bathroom, last year it was open for emergencies. Continue on the LT next to the lake. This is a great rolling hills trail that you can have a lot of fun on. Really scenic. At 2.44 miles you will pass a wooden lookout on the right side of the trail. Last year, this is where it started to get light enough for people to stash their lights. At 3.36 miles the LT cuts right across a stream.  The course takes a left turn at this point onto the CTT. The CTT goes uphill at this point on to Aid Station ( AS ) 1 at 4.04 miles. The hill may be steep, but it's not long. This AS is at a wooden gate in a small pull out adjacent to Highway  ( HWY ) 692.

Continue on the CTT which runs adjacent to HWY 692 until mile 5.71 where it crosses HWY 640. At 6.03 miles the trail turns right. This part is flat. Remember it for the way back as a part you can really get rolling on it if you're feeling good. At 6.52 miles the course turns right on Rinehart Road.  At 7.07 miles the course crosses Holiday Creek, the big creek crossing that we have had in previous years. You will get your feet wet. Fact of life. Continue on this road to the intersection of Rinehart Road and Richmond Road and AS 2 at 8.23 miles. There is no crew access at this aid station.  

Turn right on Richmond Road going gradually downhill. At the bottom on the long gradual downhill, you cross a small bridge.   After crossing the bridge, you turn right on the CTT at 8.78 miles. At 9.37 miles you cross HWY 636.   The course runs parallel to 636 crossing 636 again at 10.53 miles. At 10.72 miles the course takes a right on Walker Road  as you continue to follow the CTT. After going  down a small hill you reach AS 3 on HWY 614 at 12.14 miles.

Take a left on 614 for about 30 yards and then turn right back onto the CTT.   At 12.96 the CTT makes a very sharp right hand turn.  At 13.71 miles, the course makes a sharp right hand turn still staying on the CTT (this is in a group of large old oak trees). The course then goes through the woods  for a short distance then down a very steep little hill. It really is very steep, and feels steeper going back up on the way back. At 14.14 miles, there is a bridge on your right side that goes across the small stream.   At this point you rejoin the LT staying on the LEFT side of the lake. Continue around the lake on the left side. At 15.97 miles you will cross the dam. It can be very slick in spots. At 16.43 miles you cross a small footbridge.   Turn right and follow the trail on the right side of the tennis courts back to the start/finish line at 16.63 miles and the end of loop one. For loop two, reverse directions and go back the way you came and run the loop in reverse order ending loop two for a total distance of 33.26 miles.   

I will warn you, it's easy to get to the turn around and feel like you can smell the barn but...of course you can! You just left the barn! You still have a whole loop to do, if you feel good, by all means, pick up the pace, but don't turn on the burners. The reverse loop can get a little bit hairy because everyone is doubling back on the rest of the field. But this can also be a good thing because you can see how far or close the people just in front and just behind you they are. The trail along the lake can get narrow so just be polite about passing everyone.

(I'm not in the picture and I stole it from Rachel Corrigan's blog even though I don't know her but it epitomizes Horton and Holiday Lake...Rachel, I'm sorry, I'll buy you an ice cream cone.)

This race is not like his others mainly because the distances on the website actually are true. A lot of people choose Holiday Lake as their first ultra. It's understandable, the distance is manageable, the terrain is tame, and because of the loop and reverse loop, it's like you only run 16 or so miles and you know what's coming up in the second half. But a little hint for ultras in general, the second half always feels a little longer, and there are spots that you totally forgot about. The biggest mistake you can possibly make in any ultra, or any race for that matter, is getting discouraged. Stay in the present and look ahead only as far as you can see. There really isn't any point in worrying about mile 28 if you are on mile 6. Besides, Horton gives the same hug to the first place person as he does to the last place.