Vermont 50 - Race Report

It was a beautiful morning. Foggy as it often is in the Vermont valleys this time of year. The temperature started out around 45 and warmed up to a peak of about 75. The course was perfect. Wet enough to keep the dust down and dry enough to have little mud and no puddles to navigate. I felt relaxed and excited to run. I had a race plan. I was ready.

The first 10 miles were comfortable. I felt like I was running conservatively, walking the steeper hills, and not pushing it too hard. At the same time my heart rate was up higher than I thought it should be for the effort. I was obviously pushing harder than it felt. I came up on the first handler aid station, Skunk Hollow at mile 12. I handed off my two 20oz Amphipod bottles to Cec and got two fresh ones. The transition was smooth and quick and I moved by a lot of runners who were stocking up at the aid station. 

From there the course pretty much goes up for 6 miles on mostly dirt roads to the highest point of the course at about 1800ft. There is a beautiful meadow (that distracts from the brutal ascent) and leads up to a spectacular view including the start/finish at Mt. Ascutney. (Which looked really far away!) From here the course moves back into the woods and down some steep windy single track including the steepest drops of the day. All run while dodging mount bike traffic from behind. As I neared the end of the real steep section I started feeling cramping in both my inner thighs. Something I had not experienced before. I usually think of downhills as trashing quads but not for me today. At first it came and went but then it started coming more consistently and pretty much from mile 20 to 45 I was stuggling with leg cramps that would leave me waddling like a duck with tree trunks for legs. I started thinking the cramping was from low electrolytes, so I really started pounding the Tailwind and decided to make an unplanned stop at the next aid station to mix another cocktail of it. The next aid station happened to be Margaritaville which is volunteer staffed by a local chapter of the Jimmy Buffett fan club called the Frozen Fins. They also run an aid station at the VT 100. They are awesome and it's a fun aid station to come upon in rural Vermont. But unsurprisingly they blast Jimmy Buffet music. I had "Cheeseburger In Paradise" stuck in my head for the next 10 miles. Definitely not part of the race plan. 

Elevation profile

Mile 20-30 were painful and slower than I felt like I could be moving. I find the halfway marks can especially be hard no matter what the race distance. My fitness felt solid, but the cramping was throwing a wrench in the works. At mile 32 we came up on the next handler aid station which is also the start/finish of the VT 100. I started feeling better as I pulled in. My GPS watch was saying we still had more miles to get there so it was uplifting to be there "early" and to see the crowd and Cec. I traded out my bottles again, grabbed some extra baggies of Tailwind, and took off. This aid station gave me a major second wind and I felt great as I headed back off into the woods. I passed a guy who looked like he was also struggling with leg cramps and I shouted out lots of encouraging words like "You're going to get through these and feel better! I did! You got this!" It was about a mile later when my leg cramps came back worse than before and I was having pain in my left shin. Things felt like they were going from bad to worse and quick. I was on some tricky single track where I caught my right foot on a root and went down pretty hard. About 5 minutes later I did it again. My already questionable form was flat and felt like I was falling apart. My stomach felt ok but not right. A little cramping there too and I started rethinking my fueling and if I should get some real food in my belly. I was running with some Probars in my pockets but they did not look appetizing. 

It was about this time that I met a guy named Ernie on the trail. He was also struggling with the downhills but was having a more traditional trashed quads issue. He said to me. "My goal is to do this in under 9 hours. You think we can do it?" "We?" Up to this point and even before the race I wasn't thinking too much about my finish time. I had it in my head that between 8-10 hours was where I would be, but never having run over 32 miles I really was trying to be conservative and run smart. But now all of a sudden I was like, "Yeah. Totally. We got this!"

At mile 37 (so said the GPS watch) I came up on another aid station. I decided to try and drink some water and eat some oranges because I was craving fruit and wanted something in my belly. I overheard a few people talking about the distance on their watches being different than the course and learned that we were actually at mile 41. Wow! It was a huge boost mentally to all of a sudden be over 40 miles with only 9 to go. I was still cramping and the pain in my shin was getting worse, but I knew we were in range. 

After this I approached a steep road hill section. Ernie caught back up to me. He was looking good and really moved well up the long uphill road section ahead. I could see him way up in the distance and then disappear and I thought, "He's going to beat 9 hours." I kept plodding along. Soon after the road hill we hit more single track. I was trying to make way for a mountain biker on my tail, tripped again, and as I hit the ground both my legs seized up. How quickly during an ultra things can feel great, terrible, great, and terrible again. I love trails and I love running single track but at this point I just wanted to be on some roads where my f'ed up legs could shuffle along and not trip over something!

Before, during, finish, post.

I knew I had to do something different to try and turn things around. Like all good race plans, mine was being revised. When I reached the second to last aid station I grabbed some Gatorade and a bunch of pretzels. I chugged the Gatorade and ate the pretzels on the run. I also started to noticed that I was feeling less leg cramping the faster I went, so decided to run everything to the finish. I passed a few people I had been going back and forth with for a lot of the races and even caught up to Ernie again. With about 5 miles to go I passed Ernie and started charging. A mile later I could see Mt. Ascutney again. (this time much closer.) The leg cramps were better and the shin pain less glaring. I passed some 50k runners and was now back on a sub 10min/mile pace. I hit a road section with a bunch of people cheering and turned up a steep driveway to the last aid station. (pictured) I grabbed one bottle of tailwind from Cec and drank more gatorade which I think was helping with the leg cramps. I also came up on some 50 mile runners I hadn't seen in a long time and went right by them. I kept running, and running hard up Mt. Ascutney. Past runners, past bikers, past everybody. Nobody passed me those last 3 miles except two bikers on the final 1 mile very ridable downhill. The heat on the ski slope was pretty searing coming out of the woods, but being able to see the finish less than a mile away kept me moving fast. I passed another group of runners and reached the finish line in 8:40:54. 18th place in the mens 30-39 age group, 35th men's overall, and 37th out of all the 550 men and women runners. Ernie came in just behind me in 8:48:08 and 5th in the men's 50-59 age group.  

Like my first 50k I found myself thinking at certain times during the race that I would never do this again and at other times (especially when it was over) thinking about when, where, and how long my next ultra was going to be. Exercising is good and being fit is nice but I love ultras for the headspaces you go though. For the mental fortitude it takes to keep going and succeed. The ups, the downs. There are so many life lessons to be learned running long distance, and especially racing where you are trying to go hard and do your best. Whether you are running for first place, just hoping to finish, or anywhere in between, all those experiences are just as valuable as each other, and the rewards just the same. 

The Vermont 50 is a great race. The organization is amazing. The aid stations and all the volunteers are incredibly nice and helpful. The course was well marked and easy to follow. The only real downside to this race is running with mountain bikes, and I am sure the bikers feel the same about riding with runners. The speed and way in which each group travels in so different. And especially navigating the tight single track together can be really frustrating. I felt like I was constantly jumping in the woods to avoid a rider. Or hammering to a stop as a rider in front of me had to jump off there bike to climb a hill. It really messes with your tempo and theres, and adds addition risk from bikes or injuries sustained from jumping off the trail while running down a hill. For the most part the bikers and runners were all really respectful and everyone was looking out for everyone else. But the basic design is not very compatible. I don't think there is a better option to put forth though. They can't ask volunteers to be there two days and split up the races, and they can't spread out the field much more than they already do. They also can't ask the generous landowners and community members to let us run and bike all over their land for another day. Participants of both groups are equally important for the success of the event and the money raised for Vermont Adaptive Sports. If you're going to participate in this race you just need to treat it as another element and challenge, and be prepared for it. 

Thanks to all the organizers, volunteers, and landowners who made this event a success yet again for the 20th year. I also would like to thank Zeke and Yuen for all the hard work they do for both the VT50 and 100. (We met while I was volunteering at the VT100 this past July) I was really happy to get to see them since they were so busy leading, organizing, and volunteering their asses off to make another Vermont race be great. A special thanks to Cecily for being a supreme handler and going way beyond the call of duty including and not limited to finding coffee filters late night before the race, responding with a positive attitude to my negative back seat driving on the morning of the race, driving us back to Maine after the race, and for all the food, love and care. Less than 24 hours later and I am feeling pretty decent which I fully credit to her and her ever present awesomeness.