Massanutten Mountain Trail 100 Report
Date: Sat, 20 May 2000 14:28:14 EDT

Hi All,

    After reading several accounts of this past weekend I wanted to take some
time to share my thoughts and experiences. This is in two parts and very long
so please delete if you aren't interested.
    Last fall I completed my first 50mile run at Vermont. The euphoria I felt
at the finish was indescribable. I looked at Vermont as being a pretty tough
race and afterward marveled at the fact that I had done it. Well soon enough
that wore off and after not getting quite that same effect at the finish of
the JFK50 I knew I had to search for something more.
    Cruising the web and reading accounts of various 100 mile events I
settled on the MMT 100. I thought 16,000 feet in climb and loss was just a
little more than what Vermont had to offer and it would be held much earlier
in the year. Spring in Virginia-such a lovely time of year. I had visions of
meandering through the woodlands of Virginia over hill and dale bright sunny
skies fresh crisp spring breeze, working my way, mile after mile, till I made
it to the finish line. The hills in the distance on the homepage picture sure
did look inviting-just like the hills of Western New York where I grew up.
    I spent the winter and early spring fixated on one goal-MMT100."I am
going to run a hundred miles" I would tell myself. Over and over I thought
about it. Over and over till finally the enormity of it really sunk in.
Eventually I would state my intentions to co-workers, family, and fellow
runners. Co-workers and family-BAD! Fellow runners-GOOD! Amazingly enough,
Steve Pero who I had briefly met at the Vermont 50, had set his sights on the
same race and told me there may be a group of us going down to run. There
were several group runs planned throughout the winter and spring months that
served as a training base for this race. I joined in and met a group of
wonderful fun-loving individuals, as well as getting some great quality
training runs in. These training runs have been well chronicled on these
lists but I will rehash one group run over the Wapack range where I spent the
first part of the run lost(due to a late arrival) then as a pursuer trying to
catch up with the rest of the group. This was the run that I met Tim Stroh
with whom I would spend a great deal of time on the trails of MMT.
    I guess reality struck sometime in early spring. Sometime just before
that Wapack run. While aimlessly cruising the web in search of more ultra
information I decided to read Jay Hodde's account of the 1998 MMT100. I know
that many of you have read it, but for those who haven't it would throw the
fear of God into you. I only know Jay through his postings on the web, but I
do know he is a very experienced ultrarunner. If he had troubles like this,
what business did I have of even entering?
From then on I was quite nervous and apprehensive of my ability to finish
this race. Truly scared!
    Race week finally came- I was like a little kid the week before
Christmas. Excited, nervous, apprehensive, yet confident all at the same
time. My metatarsals hurt. I'm in the best shape of my life. What's that pain
in my knee- it happens all the time it'll go away. That cough must mean I'm
coming down with a cold, just allergies, besides you've run with a cold
before. It's going to be hot and I'm not heat acclimated-heats never
bothered you in the past. My ankles hurt on my last training run-when don't
your ankles hurt? It was just endless!
    After a good night's sleep, Karl who would be part of my crew, and I left
mid-morning Thursday for a long drive to Front Royal. Weather seemed
favorable and I knew the forecast on my computer showed no signs of rain over
the next several days. Ah-my wish was granted: I had prayed all spring that
this would be a dry race and it seems that I'll get my wish. Some 9 hours
passed and as we were driving out 66 from some nasty rush-hour traffic the
local weather forecast on the radio mentioned some passing showers or
isolated t-storms late Saturday afternoon. I chose to believe passing
showers. Pulling off 66 and heading into Front Royal my eyes were scanning
the hills in the distance. "They don't look so big. Should be running the
race over some of those hills we just passed-Those were Hills!" thought I.
Skyline Ranch is a quaint little country campground. I hadn't stayed anywhere
like this since family vacations of my childhood. Escaped from the city, I
just knew I was going to enjoy my next few days. Checked in and back to town
for a quick bite. Passed by a steakhouse on the way through and decided this
was to be the destination spot for the evening. La Dean's is definitely not
for culinarians but boy you sure won't leave hungry! Back at the camp I met
Steve, Deb, Greg, John and Ollie (John's pacer). They had arrived earlier
than us and had also dined at La Deans. It was to be an early night we shared
some conversation and turned in @ 10pm.
    Friday was one of those days that starts slow and ends before you know.
Up at 7:10 I peak out my window to see the gang returning from their
excursion scouting the final mile or so of the course. Too early for me! Up
and out to breakfast. We all were able to join-up at a local pancake
restaurant in Front Royal. What's Scrapple. Cornmeal and pork sausage-fried.
No thanks-maybe next time. No taking chances, there was only one type of
trotting I was intending to do this weekend. Breakfast was great, the
camaraderie of the New Englanders was something special. Steve P being the
glue holding the group together. We talked, shared our plans, our strategies
shared our excitement. Not one of us racing was a multiple 100 mile veteran
so the hours which lay ahead held such promise for each of us.
    Back at Skyline the time was filled readying drop bags and planning out
times for my crew to meet me. My drop bags should have been suitcases. With
what I thought I might need to cover 100 miles- I could have survived for a
month in the middle of nowhere. Multiple powerbars-different kinds-different
flavors every bag. 6 pairs of shoes, socks, knee highs(blisters, water, never
know when you might need to change), 2 rain suits fresh shirts and shorts,
Hammer-Gel, Clip, Source of Life Drink Mix, E-Caps Dried fruit strips,
Band-Aids, Compeed and more Compeed, Medical tape, toilet paper- every
bag-you just never know! Oh and my crew had a bag with all this and more.
Thinking back maybe I went a little overboard, just a tad.
    Off to the clubhouse for sign-in Karl assisted me dragging my drop bags
over. Mine were the first or nearly the first to be plunked down in each tub.
Wow if everyone is as prepared as I they will need a lot more tubs!
Registered and waited around aimlessly until the pre-race briefing. Everyone
milling about talking, looking at maps reading old ultra mags. The hot topic,
no pun intended, was Saturday's weather forecast. Throughout the afternoon
Friday the temps and humidity just kept going up and up. It was hotter at 7pm
than it was at noon. No there would be no cool early morning start this year.
The briefing was short and painless though, interestingly enough, we were
warned about a forest fire that the Park Service was fighting. Our travels
would pass through this area during the nighttime hours. No Questions?-Time
for pasta!
    It had been a long day and I was determined to get a good night's sleep.
After a long soak in a very small tub I wanted to turn in early. Steve had
brought a guy over who was looking for a place to stay for the night and we
welcomed him to take the futon. I turned in about 8pm and within minutes I
was wide awake. Twist turn get comfortable, too hot too cold twist turn some
more. Some nights before races I sleep like a log and other nights.....well
this was to be one of those other nights.
    3:47 came just after 1:11. Well that's over 2 1/2 hours uninterrupted
anyway. Three minutes later my alarm went off. As I went to shower myself
awake my other alarm went off. Never can be too careful. Shower, dress.
Patagonia Long-Haul shorts with a long cool-max brief to prevent chaffing,
silk-weight t-shirt for cool moisture wicking, Sequel Desert Rhat to fend off
the sun, my size 10 Montrail Vitesse, Smartwool ultra thins( thanks Christy)
and my CVS stockings to prevent blistering( thanks Greg). I wore a double
water bottle pack and carried a third hand-held. Coffee, cereal off to the
races.
    Out the door of the cabin my first thought was "Wow it's really hot." My
second thought was "Wow it's really sticky----and Hot!" Oh well that's not
gonna change. Traipsing along the path to the Clubhouse and the start I was
impressed with how dark it was. Off in the distance were figures illuminated
in the light of the porch surrounding the Clubhouse. I sat on the porch to do
a little pre-race stretching and realized the guy in the grass with his hands
on his hips bending over was not, as I had thought, involved in a little
pre-race stretch of his own, but was chucking everything that he had put in
his system from the night before. He was also kind enough to provide a
narrative of this to anyone who cared to hear the history of his similar
events of the past.
     "Everyone down hear sign in?" a voice boomed. Not me- gotta go. Fate is
usually not so favorable to me with its timing.
    Sign in and talk of some final details with Karl. He was to meet me at
the 8.7 mile aid station and the return to Skyline to meet up with my sister,
her husband and my mother and meet me again the 24.5 mile station. "Are you
ready?" he asked. " It's a little late to worry about that now."
    Blessing "3-2-1-Go" from Ed Demoney and we were off. A slow moving herd
of ultrarunners making our way to the paved road which inaugurates this trail
race. Hey there's Deb and Steve. I try to wriggle through to join them.
"You'd think we were running the Boston Marathon" a runner quipped as I tried
to squeeze through. As were hit the asphalt I snuck up behind Deb and Steve,
Deb Whooping with excitement and Steve admonishing with "Deb I think we're
going a little fast." I heard this and immediately let them go. As much as I
wanted to run with them I knew the key to running successfully was to listen
to my body and run my own race.
    From there the race start was relaxing for me. After minutes of running
and sharing brief snippets of conversation with various passing runners, I
found myself alone between two packs. This is where I am most comfortable;
alone with my thoughts listening to the pat, pat, pat of footsteps landing,
still playing out the scenes from the days events yet to come in my mind. Can
I do this? How do I feel? Can I deal with this heat? Are you strong
enough? Questions of doubt I now had to answer.
    Turning off onto the trail I was about 90 seconds faster than I had
hoped. Good sign that I had let my plan and not my emotion dictate the early
miles. I had never really seen chem lights and when seeing the for the first
time in the murky morning darkness thought they looked like little
glow-worms
guiding me to my destination. Those little glow-worms were always a
comforting sight. The trail was soft, gentle and slightly rolling at first. I
passed and was passed by several runners in this section, everyone striving
to find the pace most comfortable for them. I came upon a runner bent over
his flashlight making little circles around the edges of the trail. "What are
you looking for?" I asked as I stopped to help thinking the guy may have lost
his glasses. "BLAAAAARF" came his reply along with an evil glare. "Sorry can't
help you there" on I went hoping that this guy would find whatever it was he
was looking for.
     It wasn't long before the true nature of the beast called MMT100 reared
it's ugly head to reveal itself for what it truly is. I was quickly
approaching a slow moving group of runners and took no time to ascertain why
they were moving so slowly. Here was the first of our "significant climbs."
Sharply up it went. Sharp angular rocks protruding from the earth to provide
a fun little obstacle course for your feet to navigate as you climbed,
climbed, climbed to the top. It was getting to be daylight and off to the
right of the trail was a beautiful valley and a great view of the surrounding
hills. But I wasn't here for the views and all these slow moving folks were
wearing thin on my patience. Not that I would realistically move any faster,
as a matter of fact this was just about the right pace for me, I just hate
being caught up in a crowd be it the city streets of Boston or the rocky
trails of Virginia. So push the pace I did working my way through the masses
till I found a little piece of real-estate I could call my own. I settled in
to a very comfortable pace meandering along the ridge-line and as I started
my descent saw those fluffy thighs working away in the distance. "Hey Fluffy"
I shouted. Deb Reno looked around with a great big smile. "Hey I thought
you'd be way ahead of me" she quipped. "No just taking the first few miles
eeeeasy. Never know what the rest of the day will bring. "For those who have
not shared the trail with Deb you are missing out-she's as tough as she is
nice-and that's saying something. We shared company the remainder of the
descent to aid station #2.
    "Hey why are you still dry?" Ollie. "Dunno must be the Prohydrator" I
replied. I hadn't really thought about it but everyone I was passing was
soaked through and I didn't have sweat even coming through my t-shirt. As a
matter of fact I still felt relatively cool. Prohydrator is a glycerol product
I have used every race where the temps have been over 70 and I firmly believe
this is why I have not had problems with the heat. I took my time talked with
Karl and Ollie and started out on my way. Several runners came through and
passed by me at the aid station, but I was in no hurry.
    Up the road my hams and glutes started to tighten. Oh-no! Walk-run
Walk-run they will loosen up. My legs were still feeling the effects of
sitting in the car for ten hours two days prior. Why hadn't I come out a day
earlier? Walk-run Walk-run they did start to loosen up!
    The miles started to melt away and I came upon Tim Stroh and his friend
from Washington state. They looked to be suffering a bit from the heat but
their spirits were high and I ran for a short while with them. Deb again came
and went and my journey focused upon the 24.5 mile aid station where I wanted
to greet my mother with a big sweaty Mother's Day kiss. When I arrived no one
was there. I had told them to be there before 10 but that I wouldn't be
through till @10:15. It was 9:55 I was early maybe they were just a little
late. This is where I had planned for my first drop bag but knowing my crew
would be there opted for a later location. I used what was available at the
aid station and went on my way. Half coke and water and half ginger and water
for my two belt pack bottles. A couple of figs and some hearty thank-yous to
those awesome volunteers.
    It was now that I started to worry about what place I was in. I had
forgot to ask and this was the thought that I kept mulling over for the next
few miles. That and where the heck was my "crew". My mother had never been to
one of my races- my sister is supremely competitive and Karl knew what my
goals for this race were. I couldn't be so far back that they would be
disappointed. I felt great at this point so I started to press for the first
time. I attacked the hills and ran the downs I began to pass a substantial
amount of people. I was feeling good and feeling strong and looking forward
to the Duncan Hollow stretch so well chronicled in Hodde's accounts. Making
my way toward Kennedy Tower I came upon John who was having a hard time with
the heat. He didn't look too good to me but said that he was starting to feel
much better. Three or four minutes later there was Steve. My heart sank. I
knew no matter how good I felt and how strong I was running I wouldn't be
making time on him if nothing were wrong. He confirmed what I had hoped
against. His stomach was giving him fits-but he was backing off in order to
recover. We shared the trail for a short while him urging me on, me worried
about the friend that I wished a finish for more than anyone.
    Climbing to Kennedy Tower, I dumped my water bottle pack at the trail
head as I had heard Sue Johnston suggest from prior years. This was the first
place where you could see the runners who were ahead of you on their return
trip from the tower. It must have been at least a half dozen runners who said
"Hey you're not 'sposed to be smiling" as they passed, me going up they coming
down. Indeed I probably had a smile ear to ear. I was having fun, I was
feeling strong and fate seemed to be smiling on me.
    We descended to 675. Again no crew. I almost freaked out-what could have
happened to them? Then I was informed crew was another mile down the trail.
"How many have come through?"
"Bout 30"
"Good enough"
 As I stood there I suddenly had a rush of heat overtake my body-to this
point I still felt cool. I quickly asked the aid station volunteer for ice
and they made up a pack which I put under my hat. What a difference that
made. I pushed out as Steve came in and plopped down on a chair. He didn't
look well but I had confidence he would come back. Another mile down the
trail I broke out to a dirt road. There was mom with a camera and Karl with a
camcorder rolling. "Hold still" mom said. "I'm not here to pose" was the
reply as I made my way to give her a kiss and wish her a happy Mothers Day.
    The airline had lost my mother's luggage and had prevented them from
getting an early morning start out of D.C. But they were here now and that's
what mattered. What I needed now was a fresh change of socks. Karl was pretty
quick about attending to my requests and was an indispensable member of my
crew all through the remainder of the race. They asked how I was doing and I
assured them I was feeling strong.
"See you in six miles" as I trotted down the path into the woods.
    Half a mile or so down the trail I came to the first water crossing of
the course. A nice single log lay across the stream and beside it a row of
stepping stones. No need to try to balance on the log I thought. One step on
the log the next on the stone. Over went the stone as did I knee deep in
water. "Damn" I yelled. Water should be no big deal just a simple little
annoyance in a hundred mile run. But one of my main focuses in this race was
to keep my feet dry at all costs. I had been plagued by blisters all
throughout my training leading up to this race and had come in with my feet
completely healed and I wanted to keep them that way. Them water was clean
and cool and I suffered no ill effects from the soaking. The Monorails
drained quickly and soon enough my feet were dry. This was to be but a
temporary condition.
    In this section there was some nice runnable terrain until you made the
turn to climb up about 3/4 mile before the descent to Gap Creek Aid station.
The climb was long and difficult but instead of overheating I noticed it was
getting markedly cooler! Wow maybe the cool front was coming our way. Then as
I crested the hill the first rumblings of thunder were heard in the distance.
The skies from this vantage point were looking pretty ominous in the
distance. 1.7 miles down lets push it. Soon I came upon a gentleman with whom
I was to spend a great deal of time over the next several miles. Dave Capron is
from San Diego and acknowledged, though being a 100mile veteran, this was his
first try at MMT100. We had similar immediate goals and high tailed it to the
aid station waiting at the bottom of the hill.
On the run down we had a good chance to check out the runners just ahead as
this was a portion of out and back. Sue J was the first one we passed about
three minutes later was Janice Anderson. That race was going to be good. A
few runners later and there was Greg. He was smiling, doing well and was
offering encouragement, saying the aid was just a few moments away. With all
the runners going by it did not escape my attention that we were running over
some pretty mucky terrain, though it was dry now, the impending deluge would
quickly alter its' navigability.  As we came running in to Gap Creek the
skies opened up and let loose.
    39 miles in and I was feeling great. Feet were in good shape, legs
holding up and the rain would actually be a good thing! My current position
was mid-twenties having passed a couple of people in the last stretch. My
drop bag and fresh sneakers were here but with the downpour in full force and
showing no immediate signs of letting up I opted to stay with the Monorails
at least until the next aid station.
    How far to the next aid? "8 miles" said a volunteer. "You'd best give me
about 2 hours and 15 minutes till I get to the next station" I advised my
crew. My mother shook her head looking at the ground. "You mean you're going
to run in this?" "See you in a couple of hours" as I turned for the climb
back up what we had just come down.
    My apprehension about the climb proved to be dead accurate. Dried muck we
had easily ran over on the way down minutes before had been transformed into
the shoe sucking stuff you had to circumnavigate in order to pass. It made
the climb a little longer than I had anticipated. The rain was coming down
with a vengeance and seemed to be stinging my arms. My eyes could hardly
believe why my arms were stinging there mixed in with the rain drops were
pellets of hail! Hey wasn't it just 90 degrees a few minutes ago? It
certainly was, but at this moment it was no more than 60-if that.
     The climb up was shorter than the run down, 1.3 miles into the climb the
trail branched off and began a series of moderate runnable rollers over the
next couple of miles. Running was more difficult than I had anticipated each
foot felt at least a pound heavier carrying the extra water around.
    Soon the rain subsided the skies cleared and the temperatures rose. My
legs were feeling the effects of pushing the pace in this section, but soon
enough I would be coming in to the next aid station. A quick climb over
Waterfall and the down hill to the "halfway point" no problem. I came to a
small stream that marked the right turn I was to take over Waterfall. The
temps were back to 90 and steam seemed to be rising from the earth and the
sun was shining full on the hill rising before me. 0.6 miles-no problem I'll
be done with this in about 10-12 minutes I thought. Ten steps up. Why's my
heart racing? Stop rest-okay. Ten more steps. I need to catch my breath! Ten
more steps. Maybe I'll sit on this log just for a minute. This became the
pattern for the next 0.5 miles, switchback after switchback. I love to climb,
but this was ridiculous! Worried that everyone and their mother was going to
pass me I kept push push pushing. Towards the end of the climb I thought I
heard the voices of the two guys I had passed on the runnable stretch. Panic
set in and I made my way to the top heart racing and legs screaming.
Twenty-six minutes- 0.6 miles!
     I took just a moment to gather myself and began my descent. Within
moments I came upon Dave again. He had made it out of the aid station before
me but had suffered the ill effects of Waterfall just as I had. We shared
the run to the bottom and the un-manned aid station. Swapping small bits of
information about each other talking of Boston and San Diego we shared the
road and the frustration of the last section of the course. It truly was a
pleasure sharing this time with him and made a very painful stretch of
asphalt just a bit more tolerable for me.
    We made our way towards the Visitor Center but an eerie feeling of
deja-vu was coming over me. Just as in the last approach to the aid station
almost 3 hours ago, the temperatures were quickly dropping and roiling cloud
cover was bearing down upon us. As I approached the canopy my mother said "I
don't know as if I like this. You seem to bring the rain with you!"
    I had been dreaming of fresh shoes, but once again the prospect of the
wet weather to come made this a foolish change. Instead I did change into
fresh stockings and socks. My feet were looking surprisingly good, not a
blister, not a hot spot! Psyched! I found out that I was now in the low
twenties and that people were beginning to drop. I was feeling very strong
and was ready for Bird Knob.
    Out a very gentle walking trail to the turn onto the Bird-Knob trailhead.
Bird-Knob I thought to be a short climb up and short climb down to the next
aid station. Ten minutes into the climb the threatening skies made good on
the threat and let loose with a deluge to make what happened only 3 hours
earlier seem mild! Huge gusts of wind sheets of rain and now pebble sized
hail stones rained all around us. I had made my way up on a few runners and
we were sharing the trail. One stopped to put on his poncho for protection
others just pressed onward. Runners ahead were now passing us on their
descents. The green moss on the rocks was not yet slippery and they were able
to keep a pretty good pace. The going was slower for us.
    Greg and Bill Mussleman passed. "How far to the turnaround?" I queried.
"Ten minutes" said Greg. Twenty minutes later I saw the bend in the trail
that marked the summit and the turnaround point. Again- there was Dave at the
aid station draped in his poncho. I chose not to stop for pleasantries at
this point and opted to hightail it off the mountain. I was just a little
nervous with the lightening and high winds to be this high up.
    The trip down I passed by many unhappy travelers making their way to the
top. I saw that though I was doing well and feeling strong there were at
least 10-15 people within minutes of me. I came upon Deb Reno who was looking
pretty down. My first question was one of concern for whom I hadn't passed
by. "Where's Steve?" "Somewhere back there" she motioned down the hill. She
didn't look too confidant. "Hang tough Deb, were almost halfway!" and I ran
on looking and hoping to see Steve.
    By the trail split at the bottom of the hill I had not passed Steve and I
was very concerned. My thoughts over the next mile or so to the aid station
were of him. Hoping he was resting gathering himself for the second half of
our journey. As I climbed the little rise to US 211 there he was sitting on
the bumper of a truck. I was disappointed but he assured me he had done the
right thing. I knew how much he wanted this and trusted that indeed he had
done the right thing.
    54 miles in and I was told that I was running in 19th! Hey I feel great
and in the next stretch I will have run farther than I ever had at any one
point in time. No blisters-no hot spots! Still wet so I choose to go with
what's on my feet. I change shirts eat some mashed potatoes and gravy. My
sister informed me that she and my mother were going back to D.C. they were
very very tired but would return Sunday afternoon to celebrate. I looked at
her and said "I'm feeling great! 19th now-I'll finish top 10"
"You'd better!" she responded and we said our good-byes. Karl was going to
join Ollie and Steve to crew throughout the night.
    Dave and I left the aid station about the same time. This next section
was about 4 miles of a steady gradual climb. Certainly runnable if you had
the energy. I didn't and neither did he. We walked at a pretty good clip and
eventually he decided to run. I kept pace for a short while but let him go
along. I was beginning to feel my first signs of fatigue. My legs were
starting to stiffen up and my stomach was feeling cantankerous. Onward up
up, down up up. Then just when I thought my legs were about to cramp there was
a nice flat rock on one side of the trail and an upended tree stump on the
other. I lay on my back using my water bottles as a pillow. I propped both my
feet on the tree stump and began messaging my quads and hams. After 3-4
minutes of this I arose with refreshed legs and renewed spirit. No one had
passed me but Dave was long gone. The rain had stopped a ways back but the
temperatures were not rising quite like the last time. Best to keep moving.
One more significant climb to Scotthorn Gap. It was close to 7:30 and I was
well behind my hoped for pace. Oh well just keep pushing. The uphill climb and
downhill run were more difficult than the others. I kept saying to myself "If
this don't take the stuffin' out of your legs nothing will!" Well I left some
stuffin' out there somewhere. As I approached Scotthorn Karl, Ollie and Steve
were waiting with big smiles and camera posed. They were on the other side of
a creek swollen with water. "There's no way around it Wes" chided Steve. He
would enjoy this. On all our training runs he had heard me whine endlessly
about how I hate water. Mid thigh deep I waded across. This was a major
mistake but I didn't realize it at the time.
    On the other side I confided that I was no longer feeling so strong or so
confident. I had to change shoes and socks. I had no fresh stockings so I
opted for a pair of blister-free socks. Changed into my second pair of
Monorails( a half-size smaller), and into my long-sleeve silkweight capilene
shirt. All were offering bits of encouragement, the news came that a couple
people ahead had dropped and I now was in 17th, but my spirits were waning. I
left the aid station with maybe 15 minutes of light left in the day. Dave had
been in and out before I even arrived.
    I joined up with a younger guy named Randy from N.C. We exchanged some
small talk, but like me his spirits were low and we fell into silent mode. My
plans were that once it got dark I would powerwalk throughout the night. No
more running for me. But after a few minutes Randy started to run and not
looking forward to being alone on these trails at night I followed suit. Much
of this section was runnable, but by running I feel I was fatiguing my legs
unnecessarily. I pressed on. My legs moving like a metronome. Before long
lights and voices were coming up from behind. As I left the last aid station
a group of 4-5 runners was just coming in. Obviously they were making good
time on us. Then trail took a sharp turn to the right on some very tight
single-track. This is what I like to run most when it's daylight but opted to
really push it here. I ran hard and within moments was completely alone. Had
I gone off trail? Where are the glow-worms? I stopped anguishing in what to
do. Seconds passed, voices, lights GO! There's a glow worm! Feelings of angst
temporarily easing. The trail quickly spilled me out onto a gravel road where
I was to climb to the next aid station just before Short Mountain.
God my legs were shot! Why had I done that? I hate road-even gravel ones. I
tried to run but it hurt too much. My shoes were beginning to feel tight. The
socks had been bunching up on the balls of my feet. Blister-free my ass I
thought. Well walk it out to the aid station it can't be far. I walked at a
fast clip but this stretch seemed to take forever. Soon enough there were
lights. But they were not ahead, they were behind me creeping ever closer.
Climb, climb, climb where is that aid station? Randy had moved back up on me
and passed me. I didn't care. I wanted to sleep. I wanted to lay down. I
wanted a message! Two ladies with dogs appeared out of the darkness. "You
are looking for us" said one of the voices that was still creeping up from
behind me. The women had found the runners they were to crew and I knew the
next station was but minutes away.
    The lights of the aid station were welcoming. Steve, Karl and Ollie were
waiting all shivering. It was cold. I was close to breaking down mentally,
emotionally but strangely not physically. I slumped into a chair trying not
to break into tears. How could I feel so bad when I felt so great just 11
miles ago? Runners were starting to come in one by one. My desire to stay
ahead of them faded. I don't care. Karl attended to my nutritional needs and
water bottles quietly offering emotional support. He knew I was hurting and
for the first time doubts were creeping in. I got some coffee- some chicken
soup. Aid volunteers were being overrun by runners. 7 or 8 runners and their
pacers arrived. Hey it's Tim Stroh I hadn't seen him since the turnaround at
Bird Knob but he had been waaaaaay back. Then it happened. Hans came in. He
was singing and dancing. This 60 year old man was blowing me away 65 miles
into the race!!!!! Suddenly my energy started to return. I proceeded with the
necessaries to attack the next section.
    Ollie who was supposed to pace John was left without a runner to pace,
and fortunately for me had offered to pace me through the night if I wanted.
I WANTED! Ollie, Tim Stroh and I left the aid station long after everyone
else had gone on their way.
Tim was really hurting, he had been battling blisters for the last 20 miles
or so. This next section would not be kind to him. We began the ascent of
Short Mountain, a famed section of trail bound to break any man's (or woman's)
spirit. I had spent most of my pre-race nerves on worries about this stretch.
It was 10 at night and we face 8 miles of cold, wind and rocky trail. We
three set off mostly in silence ready to persevere whatever the trail was
offering. I was feeling badly for Tim; my feet were in pretty good shape and
the twists and turns the rocks forced your feet into must have been severely
painful for already blistered feet. Soon enough we came upon a slow moving
group of runners- it was Randy , Courtney Fenstermacher and her pacer. They
asked if we would like to pass but we opted to just fall in. It was very slow
going. I had heard that Courtney was having blistering problems of her own,
but on she went. The going was slow and quiet. I offered to take the lead
after about an hour knowing that to be in front of a group like this can wear
on the nerves. She said she was fine and we kept on. A half hour later I felt
that I was sufficiently recovered and pushed to the front Ollie in tow. I
was ready to get off this mountain and was bored with the rocks. I don't know
where it came from but I had a surge of energy and soon was running again! On
Short Mountain! Running! But it wasn't a fast run and there were many stops
and starts. One stop to re-Compeed my feet which had not blistered but were
very tender at the balls of both feet. Tim and Randy followed but soon they
were gone. Hans came and went. He was now beginning to feel the effects of
the days activities. Onward ,Onward Ollie close behind. Would I have dared
this had I not had his company? I don't think so! At the bottom of the hill a
group of three more runners. I passed by running into the aid station at
Edinburg Gap. Fortunate to be the first runner in the volunteers were quick
to assist. Hot potato soup, salted potatoes-but what noooooo crew? And my
feet were screaming for fresh socks. Oh well fresh Compeed and re-taping of
the feet and off I went. Shocking-first runner in and first runner out. After
dropping to 24 in the last section I was now running in about 15th!!!! They
were unsure but some runners had dropped. This gave me a boost of adrenaline
on to what would be the toughest and most trying section of the run-only I
didn't know it at the time.
    I had followed debate over the internet about which was the toughest
section Short Mountain or Edinburg to Woodstock Tower. The consensus seemed
to be Short Mountain. In the split times from years past, this next 8 mile
section seemed to run about 30 minutes faster than the Short mountain
section
so I checked my watch and figured to be rolling in to Woodstock around 3:30
since it was just after 1am when I started.
    We began climbing very soon after leaving the aid station. This climb
seemed to be steeper than what I was prepared for. We went up for what
seemed
like forever. To distract myself I was checking the darting little figures
that seemed to appear out of nowhere and skitter in front of my feet across
the trail. These little illusions were dancing little shadows created from
the high-beam of Ollies headlamp reflecting off leaves and branches which
were swaying in the wind. Soon enough we reached the top of the ridgeline. I
expected to make fairly quick progress in this section since it was not
nearly as rocky as what we had just come through. Alternating quick little
bursts of running with walking seemed to be the way to navigate this
section.
    We were making good time but within minutes something strange happened.
The air that steps ago was clean and fresh now was acrid with the smell of
burnt wood and underbrush. This was the section of forest fire the Park
Ranger had warned us of in the pre-race briefing. We broke into an area that
was torn up by bulldozers and the footing became, shall we say, somewhat
challenging. Over ruts, into sinkholes, rocks left in the middle of the
trail, uprooted stumps some of these obstacles visible in the glow of the
flashlight others masked by the dead leaves the wind had blown over them, I
tried to maintain my speed. To an observer I must have looked like a drunk as
I lurched forward trying to prevent a header into a rock. Swaying side to
side just trying to maintain balance I pressed on. Soon it cleared and there
were no more leaves no more underbrush. We were surrounded by blackened
earth, eerie skeletons of trees some still standing others fallen to the fire
that had raged through this mountain. The trail was less discernible here. At
times I moved forward more on instinct of where the trail should be, than
where I saw it to be. The little glow-worms once again were my guiding light.
    Aglow up ahead on the trail was a tree breaking into flames. Another off
to the right was suffering the same fate. Small little fires, but I was
worried about the runners behind if these spread. I thought about dumping my
waterbottle onto the tree beside the trail, but Ollie who was obviously
thinking more rationally, said we'd better let them know at the next aid
station so they could send someone out to do the job right.
 On we went and within 10 minutes we were back to the green of healthy
forest
land. It had been nearly 2 hours since we had begun our journey on this
mountain and since we were beginning a gentle decline I said to Ollie "We're
on our way down to the next aid station. We'll be there in about 20 minutes!"
My spirits were high as our progress had been rough but relatively fast.
Ollie grumbled something that seemed doubtful of my proclamation. Down we
went but within moments a little glow-worm appeared in the distance and it
seemed to be a great deal higher on the ridge line than we were. The trail
bottomed out and began its climb back up to the top of the ridge line. Up we
climbed and immediately back down we went. "This must be it!" I claimed.
Downward, downward. Another glow-worm and guess which direction it was-UP!
This pattern repeated itself over and over. My spirits took a nose dive. "WHO
DESIGNED THESE TRAILS?" Not only were they like running a rocky
roller-coaster track but they were at the same angle as the hill. My ankles
were beginning to scream trying to stabilize me as I traversed this
ridgeline.
    After a good 40 minutes of this we peaked out atop the ridgeline. "We
made it to the top" Ollie more accurately announced. We crossed to the
western side of the mountain and began our true descent into Woodstock Tower.
We were still running alone no one catching us, and we catching no one. A trail
sign glowed in the light "AID 1 Mile" Running was easier now and 3:30 later a
second sign glowed in the light "AID 1/2 Mile"  Wow I guess we were running
fast!  7 or 8 minutes later we broke into the lights and pavement of
Woodstock Tower. It was 4:05 almost a full 3 hours to cover 8 miles. I guess
I wasn't moving quite as fast as I thought, or Ed Demoney had commissioned
David Horton to measure that stretch of the race course.
    There Karl and Steve were waiting. They had missed us at the last aid
station because they had returned to Skyline Ranch to take care of some
necessaries and got snagged by one of Virginia's finest on their way back.
Smoky was understanding and let them on their way with just a mild
admonishment. "Watch out for the dead guy!" someone said as I searched for a
place to sit. In the chair next to me was a runner wrapped in a blanket
slumped in a chair sound asleep. It was John Geesler.
     My feet were screaming for new shoes and socks. For the first time I
felt blisters rising. After further examination I found only one blister at
the end of my left Morton's Toe where it had been continuously pounded into
the end of my shoe on the downhills. The balls of each foot were just tender
with hotspots. As I began the Compeed and tape routine again Steve got me
some chicken soup, Karl tried to fill my water bottles, but they were still
full. I had drank next to nothing over the last stretch but I was fine, most
likely over-hydrated throughout the day. A runner was approaching.
    Out of the darkness came Tim. Amazed, my jaw must have dropped. I had
counted this guy out after leaving him on Short Mountain moving slowly with
badly blistered feet. Five or six runners had come into the Edinburg Gap aid
station before I had left, but he was not one of them. How had he passed by
the others and come this far on feet that were blistered toe to heel?
    My shoes were still off when Geesler bolted from his chair. He was out of
the aid station within seconds. I hurried myself and put on my Timberlands
which would remain my shoe to the finish. Out of the aid station, only Tim
still sitting there drinking hot soup.
     Karl had advised me that another guy had just left just before I had
arrived but that he was looking to be in pretty bad shape. Running in 15th I
could make up 2 more places if I could just hold on and stay strong. The
trail out of Woodstock was a soft gentle downhill. My feet felt refreshed and
I was able to run a fair portion of this stretch. Within seconds a light
appeared from behind. Tim was beginning a pursuit of his own.
He approached quickly, but then fell in with Ollie and me. He shared his
experiences over the past miles I marveling in his courage. The miles
drifted by we came upon Geesler battling his demons alone on the trail. On
and on soon Tim dropped away. I had heard Janice Anderson was not too far up
and she had fallen and broken he hand in that last section. I wondered how
anyone would risk going on in the dark on these trails after having something
like that happen. Foolish or heroic? I mulled in my mind what I would do
faced with the same circumstances.
    I was talking with Ollie about Janice and the possibility of catching her
when we came upon another runner resting against a tree. We passed saying our
hello's and proceeded onward. The run into Powell's Fort was pleasant. My
spirits rebounded after the lows of that last section and I could now see the
light at the end of the tunnel. I was also beginning to see the light of day.
The problem was I was looking forward to the warmth of the rising sun, but it
just seemed to get colder as it got lighter. The was a stiff breeze in our
face and it was chilling me through.
    The aid volunteers at Powell's Fort couldn't have been nicer or more
encouraging. Hot chicken soup, two cups warmed me back up. On the wall was
posted the runners who had come through and the times they had come in. My
name was posted in 13th place coming at 6:00 on the dot. Tim Stroh pulled in
two minutes later. It was a quick aid stop maybe spending 5 minutes or so
there. Tim decided to come with us as we left. The aid station volunteer said
we had about 1.5 miles of dirt road gently down ,a turn onto the trails and a
steep 0.5 mile hill then "gentle rollers" down to the next aid station. She
said there were two runners leaving about 15 minutes before us but we
shouldn't worry about catching them because they were looking pretty good.
She continued that there were two runners that had left about 30-40 minutes
earlier that were looking like they might not make it. This was shocking news
to me because that would have been Greg and Jim Mussleman. I hoped nothing
was wrong but did we realistically stand a chance of making up that much
time?
    We moved out Tim, Ollie and I. It was an easily runnable section but I
felt if we power walked it would leave more energy for that climb ahead. No
more Waterfall episodes for me. A half mile down we realized Tim was no
longer with us. We weren't moving too fast so it wasn't that. Soon enough,
just as we were approaching the turnoff to the trails he came running up from
behind. Pit Stop.
    Soon we began our climb. This certainly was "significant" and I was glad
I had saved the energy for it. I was quickly out of breath and struggling.
Tim and Ollie were feeling the same way. As we crested the peak I knew it was
all downhill to the next aid station. Where were the "gentle rollers" though?
This was steep down and my quads were screaming with every step. I think we
were going down slower than we were going up! Tim told of a similar point in
a race he had run a couple of years back. He had been running with his friend
Randy; they were tired and beaten but just put one foot in front of the other
and ran 7 minute miles to the finish. "It only hurts the first few steps,
then you become numb and it doesn't hurt any more."  Yeah right I thought.
    Gimp gimp gimp down the hill. Voices approached from the rear! I
panicked! I wasn't about to loose a place this far into the race! Time to put
Tim's theory to the test. I began to run with everything I had left. Oh but
did it hurt! The decline became more gradual and the pace less painful. I let
gravity work it's magic and pull me forward. The pain melted away and I found
myself a rhythm 92 miles into the race. We rounded a bend and saw a runner up
ahead. It was Greg. We slowed and tried to encourage him to come along with
us. His spirits deceived the pain he must have been in. He was unable to do
anything more than his current pace. Ollie offered to stay with him, but he
declined and we were on our way exchanging wishes of good luck. We approached
Elizabeth Furnace passing Greg's father and mother hiking up the trail for
their son. We assured them he was doing okay and just a little further back
along the trail, wished his mother a Happy Mother's Day and stormed on to
Elizabeth Furnace. We broke into the parking area and saw a group of runners
off to the right! It was Janice Anderson Bill Mussleman and a pacer!
    "We're not stoppin' here" I shouted to Ollie. Off in pursuit we hit the
aid station along with the others. I stopped for just seconds to fill my
water bottle and flew out of the aid station apologizing to Karl who was
waiting for me that I couldn't stop to talk. Adrenaline surge. This was a
dream come true! I was running in tenth! This was my ultimate goal for this
race and it now was in my grasp! Ollie was struggling behind me but shouted
to keep going he would catch up. I pressed on to the last of our "significant
climbs". I thought this one would be nothing, but boy was I wrong. "Take it
easy no one cane make up much time on this type of terrain after 95 miles" I
told myself. The climb went on forever but it no longer hurt knowing this was
the last-the end of them all. My whole body was tingling! We crested to a
beautiful opening in the trees and bright skies. It was down hill to home
now! I had one other person ahead I thought I might catch and I would do my
best. Run-run to the bottom of the hill. Getting low on energy I backed it
off. We must be within a mile of the finish. I saw a wet sneaker print on a
rock as we crossed our last stream. Can't be too far ahead and I took off.
Soon the reality hit that there were no more people to catch but only a
finish line to cross as we broke into a section of gravel road that marked
less than a mile to the finish. I backed off into a walk trying to slow Ollie
down. I think he was more than ready to get this over with. As we turned the
corner to the field I fought back the tears. My first hundred was almost
over. All the emotions of the past 28 hours seemed to flash before me at
once. But Ollie was with me and there were a lot of people there. I got ahold
of myself and ran the last 100 yards to the finish.
    Ed was there to welcome us. He seemed to have a kind understanding look
as we came in, but that quickly turned into a devilish grin when he asked how
we enjoyed the course. I collapsed to the porch after some photos with Ollie
and I rightly thanked him and let him know how important he had been. Karl
had been waiting and was very happy and proud that I had made it. I owe him
a lot for everything he did to help me get to the finish line. Moments later
another runner appeared making his way across the field. TIM STROH! He had
gone by the others and was coming in just minutes behind. He persevered and
was the 11th finisher of MMT 2000.