Subject: MMT100 Report - Extremely long - Just like the race From: Jeff Washburn Date: Tue, 14 May 2002 14:49:17 -0400 Massanutten is an Indian name meaning, "kick some rocks." All right, that's not true but that is what it means to me. Let me describe the MMT100 course. First you take 100 Horton miles. Then you add in all the rocks in the universe. Sprinkle in some roads with huge gravel, a few dirt roads and about twenty steep climbs. This year I went to the race to get my fifth finish out of eight tries. After posting about the weather before going down to the race, Ed Demoney decided to make me the official Massanutten Mountain 100 weather prognosticator. I reported that the temperatures would be in the upper 60's with a slight chance of a shower and low to mid 40's at night: perfect running weather. I also said that it would be similar on Sunday and maybe a little warmer. We only got a sprinkle within the last couple of hours and a couple of rumbles of thunder so we lucked out there; although the passing storm did increase the humidity and make conditions for us slow pokes a little unbearable. Enough for the preliminaries, let's get on with the race. My crew goddess and wife Paula was in Montreal for work so I had my brother Jerry come down from Maryland to crew for me. I never use a pacer but I definitely enjoy having a crew. I got to the race headquarters and got to see many of my friends. I gave Catra the hug I promised her. I met Britt from Texas and a few other listers whose names the weekend race has erased from my mind. There were also a bunch of my friends from New England. It was great to see Hans Dieter, although I did miss Susi not being with him. What a great sport full of great people. Don't let the people on this list who detract from our sport fool you. Ultra runners are fantastic people. I actually enjoy the pre-race festivities as much as the race itself. But soon it was over and it was off to the Pizza Hut for my pepperoni pizza and to bed for some restless slumber. Morning came way too early. I ate a couple of Power Bars and drank a couple of bottles of water before Ed gave the blessing and we were allowed to finally get started. The first few miles are on paved road leading to the trailhead and I took advantage of it, knowing what the footing would be like for the rest of the day. I didn't need my flashlight on the road and only had to turn it on for about fifteen minutes once on the trail. The first climb is not too bad and I toasted the first view of the day with a huge drink when I finally crested the climb. Once on top, you have to scramble over and around boulders and run on trails that have worn down and exposed the sharp rocks of the mountain underneath. There were many great views, including the sunrise over the Skyline Drive, but you had better stop to look at them at your own peril. Soon we headed down to the Shawl Gap aid station (8.7) where I grabbed some cookies and chips and headed off down the dirt road. I ran a little with Ray Zirblis, from Vermont, with whom I had shared many hours at the 2000 Sri Chinmoy 6-Day Race. Soon we headed back up to the ridge (11.8) on the Big Blue Trail (AKA Tuscarora Trail). The climb is not too bad today and soon I was on top again kicking some rocks. I had taken my two 20 ounce water bottles at Shawl Gap because I knew there were 7.5 very hot dusty miles between Milford Gap (16.9) and Habron Gap (24.4), 3.5 of it on dirt road with little shade. I filled the bottles at Milford and headed down the trail. I was running downhill very well and having a good race. I was able to run most of the road and got to Habron exactly on my predicted time. Along the way, I caught up to Barb Sorrell, from MA. She was having a bad patch but soon was able to take off and leave me (but not for the last time). The section from Habron to Camp Roosevelt (33.3) is 8.9 miles with a very steep, hot and dry, but not too long, climb back up to the ridge. Runners often take way too little water with them on this section and end up dry long before the section ends. This year was no exception. My two 20 ounce bottles were barely enough for me as I ran out with just less than a mile to go. I thought I was loosing time but I must have factored in how badly I usually do on this section as I arrived right on time. Because the last section wore me out, I decide to take a ten-minute break and refuel. This is a luxury I have had too rarely lately, to be far enough of the cutoffs that I could sit and eat some food. Peyton told me he would have ice cream and he was true to his word. After an ice cream sandwich, a ham sandwich and a little turkey sandwich, I headed for Duncan Hollow. The time estimates that I had my brother write down for each aid station was based upon a perfect race, which would have gotten me to the finish in 30 hours. I knew that would be pushing it and expected to finish between 32 and 33 hours. I also knew I was in shape but didn't have enough distance on my legs this year to hold this pace for 100 miles. Well it turned out that I had just 33 good miles and only a few more decent miles. Although, I felt like I was running well through Duncan Hollow, I arrived at Gap Creek (38.9) 30 minutes behind schedule (10 from my rest at Roosevelt and another 20 minutes in that section). I spent another 10 minutes there refueling before heading out to the Kerns Mountain section. The Kerns Mountain section is a very rocky scramble of newly created trail. The trail has been there only a couple of years and it takes a lot out of you. I ran in to my friend Long Vu from OK on this section and we ran off and on together to the Visitors' Center (47.3). While we were on Kerns Mt., a runner caught up and said to tell the aid station crew at the Visitors' Center that runner number 50 had fallen and his knee went CRACK! He said not to rush aid as the runner would try to continue and they could meet him on the road. Well, the person who fell was David Hughes and all of a sudden he caught up with us and moved right past. He said it sounded like he broke the knee but that it doesn't hurt and he is going to keep going. I said good-bye to David, but not for the last time. I struggled into the Visitors' Center, sat down and declared that it sure was nice to have time to sit and rest a few minutes at the aid stations for a changed. I had another ice cream sandwich and some food. I also changed my shirt and tied a long sleeve shirt around my waist and headed out for the steep climb up to Bird Knob station (51.2). Just before I got to the aid station, I was passed by the famous (or is that infamous), Suzi Cope. It's not the last time our paths would cross. On my way back to the climb back down off of Bird Knob, it got dark. I had to pull out my Mini-Mag light and climb down over the rocks in the dark. I hope we get extra credit for doing this in the dark. As I arrived at the highway crossing (57.2), my brother was there with a huge hamburger for me. Man, did that taste great. While I was eating, Long Vu came into the aid station and declared that he has had enough falling and was going to drop. After a couple of minutes of pleading with him to no avail, he dropped and I headed out. The climb from the highway is long and gradual for the first few miles but after the turn to Waterfall Mt., which we didn't have to do this year, we start up along a stream. When we cross back over the stream, we have to scramble over more large boulders to get to the top. Once there we turn down the Scothorn Gap Trail. It was at this point that I knew I was in trouble. I had been dying a slow death since the Kerns Mt. section but had plenty of time to spare. Now, I was having a lot of trouble making any time going downhill. Downhill running is the only thing that allows me to be able to finish these runs before the cutoffs and now my strongest suit is nearly gone. I felt naked. I stumbled down the hill and through the stream at the bottom, catching my right foot in the water. I had managed to avoid getting soaked throughout the day but now I had a wet foot along with deteriorating confidence. The foot dried some along the road to Gap Creek II (64) but I didn't feel any more confident. I had some chocolate milk and some soup and headed out, knowing that I was in jeopardy of the cutoffs. It seemed that at every aid station that I came to, there would be the grim reaper in the form of Bill Van Antwerp. He was in charge of enforcing the cutoffs. I headed up the climb to Jawbone and on to Ed's trail. Although they have improved Ed's Trail, it still is hard to follow through the rocks at times. I arrived at the Moreland Gap aid station (66.8) with only 15 minutes to spare. I was almost out of time and the dreaded Short Mt. Section lay ahead. I pondered even starting the section. There was no way that I wanted to suffer through Short Mt. and then be pulled from the race. I thought for a second and decided that I would give it my best effort. There is no way I want to take another year to get my fifth finish. I took one water bottle and a bottle of Pepsi and started along the trail to the climb. I would sip the Pepsi as if it were a gel, giving me both a sugar rush and a caffeine rush, as I would trudge through this part. Short Mt. is not difficult as far as rise and fall is concerned; however, as for footing, it is one of the toughest sections on the course. My feet were feeling fairly comfortable going into this section with just a few hot spots from the earlier water crossing. I was able to protect my feet to this point by being careful where I would step; however, I no longer had this luxury. If I were to stay ahead of the cutoffs, I would have to throw some caution to the wind. As I was stumbling my way up the climb on the basketball sized rocks that covered the entire trail, I cam across David Hughes once again. He was giving it a valiant effort but I knew that he probably wasn't going to make it. Hell, I wasn't even sure I was going to beat the cutoff. I passed one other runner just ahead of David and soon I caught up to Suzi Cope, who was now running with Phil Hesser and her pacer Jay. This would not be the last time we all would cross paths. I was on a mission. If it took me the four hours to cover this section that it took me last year, I would arrive at the next aid station right at the cutoff. I pushed hard and felt like I was doing well, even with all the stumbling; however, when I arrived at Edinburg Gap (75), I had only gained one half an hour. The 3:30 it took me to go the last 8.2 miles was good enough but much longer than the effort felt. I could breath easier now but I was not safe. When I got into the aid station, there was Barb Sorrell sitting in a chair and getting ready to drop. I tried to convince her to continue but she said her feet were trashed and she couldn't keep going. I said mine were trashed too and that I had no choice but to finish but that I did understand. One of these days, I am going to get to Edinburg Gap earlier enough to try some of Brenda's potato soup. Today, however, was not going to be that day. I left Barb sitting there, grabbed some cookies from my brother and was off up the climb. I pushed and trudged as hard as I could through these 8.2 miles and arrived at Woodstock Tower (83.2) with more cushion. About half way to Woodstock Tower, I heard a runner come up from behind. It was Barb. I guess something I said inspired her to give it another try. It was either that or the fact that she would have to come back and do this again if she didn't finish this time. She had someone tape her feet and she got up and flew past me. She finished nearly an hour ahead of me. It was a good thing that I had increased my cushion as my pushing so hard in these last two difficult sections had resulted in my being completely spent, mentally and physically. I usually run a good time through this section after Woodstock Tower but it was all I could do to keep going forward. I finally reached the descent into Powell's Fort Camp (88.4) but could only go down very gingerly. I hobbled into the aid station where Margie handed me the barbeque sandwich that I had requested before the race started. Her barbeque tasted so good last year that I couldn't wait for more this year. Unfortunately, the Scothorn Gap aid station was not used anymore and Stan and Margie took over at Powell's Fort. I had to wait much longer but it sure tasted good. I couldn't sit and enjoy it though so I took it with me and headed up the rocky road to the next to the last climb of the race. I also grabbed another Pepsi to use as I did on Short Mt. It didn't quite have the same effect but it must have helped some. I struggled up the climb where I had an altercation with a rattlesnake in 1999. The only thing the climb had waiting for me this year was a dramatic rise in the humidity. The bugs were out in force on a course where I have had little trouble with bugs before so I knew there was rain heading our way. It would actually have been a good thing as a result of this oppressive humidity. I was passed on the climb by another runner but finally crested the hill to start the long descent to the last aid station. Apparently, there had been a forest fire up there earlier in the year (which I was told was started by lightning). I pushed the downhill as hard as I could but wasn't making great progress. I knew I would need two hours from the last aid station to the finish or I would not make it in time. On the way down, I was passed by Suzi, Phil and Jay. I told them I would probably make the finish but that it would be close and it would be very ugly. Another runner with about fifty pacers also came by me. It seems the runner was raising money in memory of the late husband of a women who was pacing him. He was running his first 100 miler. As I was getting near the bottom, Scot Mills came by sweeping the trail to see who was still out there and tried to inspire me to the finish. Although I appreciated his support, there was no way I was coming this far in the run through all that I suffered and not finish. I checked into Elizabeth Furnace (95.9) and just took a bottle filled with cold water and headed up that last climb. I found out later that they had venison burgers. I have got to run faster so that I can enjoy more of this food. I can't say enough for the great aid stations and volunteers that they have at this race. I left the aid station with 2:10 left to break the 36-hour time limit. My goal was one hour up and one hour down the other side. That would give me a ten- minute cushion. I had been over that climb four other times and knew I could make it; however, my downhill running was nearly nonexistent. I pushed hard up the hill and passed the runner with the herd of pacers and soon caught up to Suzi and Phil. Phil and I climbed this together last year and, thanks to he, and the two runners he was with then, making a wrong turn at the bottom, I was able to not be the last finisher. This year he wasn't going to make that mistake. As we neared the top, we heard some rumbles of thunder and thought a storm was approaching but we only got about five minutes of rain and barely got wet. It did break some of the humidity though. Suzi, Phil and I all arrived at the top of the hill together. I had made the climb in 50 minutes, an extra ten minutes to help me. As we started down the hill, I thought I might be able to stay with them but soon I was hobbling along very slowly. As I neared the bottom, another of the runner's herd was coming up from the bottom to see where the runner was. I told him he had better kick some butt or he won't make the 36 hours. I continued on and finally reached the road that leads to the final trail to the finishing field. I trudged along the path and on to the field. All across the field were yellow ribbons (which are what the VHTRC uses to mark the course). I sprinted across the field at about 5 minutes per mile. All right, I hobbled across the field and reached the finish line, which was surrounded by pink flamingos, in a time of 35:44:30. Suzi and Phil had crossed the line nearly ten minutes earlier. That gives you some idea as to how badly I was covering the downhill. As it was, one of the runners who tied for last in 2001 came in to the finish next and the other runner, with his entourage in tow, managed to finish with almost twelve minutes to spare. That guy that went up after him must have kicked some serious butt. There were 82 finishers out of 135 starters, both records. As I was climbing up the last climb with Suzi, she informed me that she was running her last 100-mile race. She said the decision was made prior to this race so it wasn't the MMT100 that made that decision for her, although I'm sure this race has made that decision for many others. She said that she will still be running ultras but will stay away from the 100 milers. What a way to go out though. Once you've finished Massanutten, you don't need to run another one. I was considering what it meant to finish five MMT100's and I almost made the decision to never run another MMT but they make you come back the next year to get your five finishes award so, as long as I'm there, I suppose I'll have to give it another try. And, of course, if I finish, I will have to go on and finish ten. Damn, this sport is stupid. I want to thank Ed, Anstr, Scott and all of the VHTRC members for putting on the best 100 miler you'll ever hate. If you like self abuse, come down next year and give the MMT100 a try. Jeff Washburn