Massanutten Mountain Trails 100 Miler 2005

May 6

It is about half past one on Friday afternoon. Martha and I are finally leaving the house to head to the MMT 100, reported to be the toughest 100 miler east of the Rockies. The Mohican Trails 100 was the first 100-miler I finished last summer. The MMT is at least 50% harder than Mohican. It was doubtful up until last night as to whether Martha would be crewing for me on this race. She needed to get someone to fill-in for her for running media at our church on Sunday. Late Thursday night, Kevin Harrison called and said he could do it.

We arrive at the Skyland Ranch Resort right at 4pm. I have just enough time to get into the trail briefing that is just starting. The room is filled with many people I know. Many of these people I have ran against in the past, and there are also many new faces. There are people like Steve Platt and Gary Knipling, who I might beat if things go well. Then there are people like Aaron Schwatzbard and Beth Patterson, who I will be lucky to see at the start.

After the trail briefing by Stan and Scott, dinner is served. We have spaghetti, bread, and salad. I eat across from Rande Brown. After dinner, I talk with David Horton a little about my ankle, and he emphasizes that I need to tape my ankle before the race and not after it starts. During our conversation, I discover that David has never run this race, although he has paced several runners through the night.

Martha and I leave the Skyland Ranch Resort around 7pm to go to our motel in Front Royal, which is just 15 minutes away. We check-in and get settled, turning in by 8:30pm because we have to get up at 3:30am for the 5am start.

May 7

I sleep very soundly until 2:51am, which is amazing. I sleep a little bit more before getting up at 3:25am. This is a great night’s sleep, and I hope the rest of this day goes well. I feel good, especially after fighting off a cold this week. Martha has had a serious cold for over a week now, and it finally caught up to me Wednesday evening. I have done tons of zinc and Cold-Eeze, and now I think I might be able to run a decent race.

We get to the Skyland Ranch Resort about 4:40am. I have enough time to check-in to let them know I am starting, and then I take one last restroom break. It is cool out, somewhere in the 40s. I am wearing shorts, a Coolmax t-shirt, and a long sleeve t-shirt. Of course, I have on my Camelbak and am starting the race with Asics Eagle IIIs on my feet.

Mile 2.4 22:25 (9:20 avg./mile) MT Trailhead

It is dark at the start, but since the first 2.4 miles are on the road, I decide not to have any light with me. We make our way along the road with no climbs, and the road for this first section is truly relatively flat. Gary Knipling went by me about halfway to this first checkpoint. I talk for awhile with Craig Penrose, who is still in the Marine Corps and stationed at Quantico. Getting to this first checkpoint this quickly is a slight surprise to me, but I know I haven’t even exerted myself.

Mile 8.7 1:28:15 (14:00 avg./mile) Shawl Gap Trailhead

It is dark for the first 20 minutes on this trail section. I follow Molly Gibb, who is from Colorado. She says that she is just using this as a training run for some international event in the summer. A training event! You mean this is just practice for you! We’re talking, just practice!?! Anyway, she is moving well, and I follow her all the way to the top of the first major climb of the race. The race director said there were 10 major climbs, but I count 13. I guess a couple of those aren’t considered major enough. About two miles from the aid station, my nose starts bleeding on its own. At first, I think that I can just blow it out, but then it starts dripping on me. I have to stop and rip a piece of my long sleeve t-shirt off in order to plug my nose. I come into the first aid station Martha sees me at, and already it looks like I have been beaten up. My time isn’t bad considering the bloody nose, and my goal is to run better than 17 minute miles for the whole race. At this aid station, I take a pint of chocolate milk and grab half of a bagel.

Mile 11.8 38:33 (12:26 avg./mile) Veach Gap Trailhead

This section is straight forward as we travel down a dirt road for 3.1 miles. I take it very easy because it is so early in the race. At this aid station, I grab a couple of peanut butter & jelly quarters before heading back onto the trail.

Mile 16.9 1:13:41 (14:27 avg./mile) Milford Gap

Back on the trail, we climb up towards Veach Gap. This is the second climb of the race. This is nothing too hard, but each climb takes a little more out of me. I am moving okay, and I actually feel great, but my times are not jumping out at me. On a good race day, the split times just come very easily, especially early. This aid station is truly in the middle of nowhere up on the mountain. The aid station workers have brought everything in on four wheelers. We are all very grateful for the aid. I grab a couple more pb&j sandwich quarters and pass Steve Platt leaving the aid station.

Mile 24.7 1:36:02 (12:19 avg./mile) Habron Gap Trailhead

After leaving the last aid station, it isn’t long before we head back down off of the mountain. It is a quick downhill, and when I get to the road at the bottom, I take some time walking before running again. My legs feel pretty tired given the fact that I am only 20 or so miles into the race. However, after several easy miles on a gravel road, I am ready to hit the trail. There are a few motivated types that pass me on this road, but we will all see each other again before too long. I get to the aid station, and Martha is there waiting. I down half an egg-salad sandwich, potato chips, and more chocolate milk. The next section is the longest of the race, and I eat as much as I dare. Martha puts two Access Bars in my pack for the section ahead of me.

Mile 34.2 2:29:23 (15:43 avg./mile) Camp Roosevelt

The climb starting out from this section is steep and long (pretty much like most of the climbs). This is now the third major climb of the race. It is also warming up quickly. I took my shirt off at the start of this section, and I am glad that I did. This section is fairly rough, but it is also long. I eat two Access Bars on my way to the next aid station. I am glad that I had both of them. My time coming into this aid station is right where I want to be. A sub-16 minute per mile for this tough section is exactly what I want.

Mile 39.8 1:39:56 (17:51 avg./mile) Gap Creek-Jawbone Gap I

I am starting to really feel the effects of these climbs and descents. I usually run well on most descents because I let myself go and lean into the pull of gravity, but on almost all of these descents, that is not possible. The trail is so rough and covered with rocks that it is one hairy experience after another coming down a descent. This section doesn’t contain an official major climb, but there are a couple of little ones like the 0.8-mile climb a mile and a half out from the aid station. My time has slowed, but it is okay. I still have a long way to go. At these last couple of aid stations, I ask Martha how far ahead Gary Knipling is, and she says he has about a 30-minute lead on me. Michelle Harmon is working at this aid station, and she makes a point of asking if I will make it make to this aid station at mile 65.

Mile 48.2 2:40:49 (19:09 avg./mile) Visitor Center

Leaving Jawbone, there is a short climb, although a climb nonetheless. At the top of the climb, we hang a left and proceed across Kerns Mountain. I am feeling a little light headed from the climb and the effects of altitude. Although we are only around 2,500 feet, the day is beginning to wear me down. I also think that the pollen and effects from fighting off a cold last week are hurting my asthma. Another issue is that the rocks are as thick as anywhere we have gone yet. The trail is hairy in spots as I try to keep a good forward speed going. As I bound down from one rock to another, the rock I am bounding to shifts, and I go down. As I am falling, my chin makes impact with a rock. From the force of the impact, I am sure that the skin has been broken, and I am wondering if I still have all of my teeth. There is a runner just behind me, and he stops to see if I am okay. I tell him that I am not too bad, and since there isn’t anything for him to do for me, I tell him to continue on. As I take inventory, I think I have all of my teeth, but I fear that I might have jarred loose a filling. My chin is bleeding pretty well, and I decide the best thing will be just to put my hand over the injury and apply direct pressure to try and stop the bleeding. After a few minutes, though, I decide that if I continue going with my hand on my chin, I will loose my balance and trip and fall again. Therefore, I just go, hoping that I won’t loose too much blood before I get to the aid station. Miraculously, about 30 minutes after my spill, I come across a park service employee trimming roots on the trail. (Why he is worrying about roots with all of the rocks, I have no idea.) He asks if he can help, and I say only if you have a first aid kit. He does and leaps into action. First, he puts a thick gauze pad on my chin, and then covers it with a large band-aid. Realizing that the band-aid isn’t going to stick very well, he pulls out a roll of tape and tapes all the way around the top of my head and down around my chin about three times. Finally, I can now truly resume my forward progress, although my chin really hurts. I manage to make the remaining several miles into the aid station where Martha is waiting. When she sees me, she asks what happened and if I am going to drop. I tell her that I am going to keep going and see how things go. She asks if I need stitches, and I tell her I don’t know. She asks if I am going to wait 24 hours to find out, and I say, “If I have to.” At this aid station, I take a draw from my Avair and drink another pint of chocolate milk. I take a quarter of a bagel, but I don’t end up eating much of it because my chin hurts when I move my jaw. Mike Campbell is there waiting for his runner, Scott Crabb, to come through. He is going to pace him later this evening.

Mile 52.1 1:10:10 (17:59 avg./mile) Bird Knob Trailhead

As I leave the aid station, things feel a little bit better just because I no longer have to keep answering everyone’s questions at the aid station. I start making good time going up to Bird Knob and even manage to pass a person—Joyce Fendley. There is a part of this section where the runners coming back are meeting us on the trail. However, most of these runners that we are meeting are about an hour ahead of us. Marty Lindemann is coming down the trail also. She was helping out at the Bird Knob aid station, but they have enough people up there, so she and her daughters are heading down to the visitors center. At this aid station, they have vegetarian soup. I guess it doesn’t even have chicken or beef broth in it. My chin appears to have stopped bleeding, but it still hurts quite a bit. It is just after 6pm, and I hope I can make it to the next aid station before it gets dark because I don’t have a light with me, and crews aren’t allowed to meet us up on Bird Knob.

Mile 58.1 2:04:41 (20:47 avg./mile) US 211 East

I am taking my time and really conserving myself for the long night ahead. As I get about a mile out from the aid station, it starts to get dark, and it is starting to rain lightly. I know I can make it into the aid station because I did this part of the trail on Catherine’s 50k last summer. However, I don’t like the idea of the rain and the darkness at the same time. Just as I am about to make my way into the aid station, two other runners join me, and I follow them into the aid station. At this aid station, Joe Zwiller, my pacer is there, and he introduces himself to me, but I don’t put two and two together. It isn’t until Martha asks me if I saw Joe that I realize why he was shaking my hand. I have not previously met him in person. We linked up for this on the race’s website. Our plan is for him to start pacing me at the next aid station.

Mile 64.9 2:41:50 (23:48 avg./mile) Gap Creek-Jawbone Gap II

As I leave the last aid station, several people are close to me. Many of them push on ahead, but one of them, Doug Moore stays with me. Doug and I will spend the next eight hours together stumbling over rocks trying to climb up and down these mountains. He is from just north of Pittsburgh, and since I went to school in Pittsburgh, it gives us something to talk about for several minutes. On my way to this aid station, I figure out that my stomach isn’t quite right, and I am pretty sure that it is because I have yet to move my bowels during the race. So, when I get to Jawbone, I ask for some TP and head into the woods. After taking care of business, I join up with Joe (my pacer). I eat some more grilled cheese quarters, and we head up the trail. Doug stays with us, and the three of us trudge up the next climb of the night.

Mile 67.7 1:17:52 (27:49 avg./mile) Moreland Gap

This last section was nice and short at only 2.8 miles. It is a nice relief before starting the infamous short mountain. My time isn’t great, but Doug and I are taking it easy in the dark. I don’t think he can run anymore, but his walking pace is faster than mine. So, I run a little on the downhill sections to stay up with him, and we both do the best we can up the hills.

Mile 75.9 4:20:05 (31:43 avg./mile) Edinburg Gap

Climbing up Short Mountain is another energy sapping experience. There are several people around us most of the way up the climb. When we get to the top, I call for another break because my bowels are ready to move again. Going across the top ridge on Short Mountain is a trying mental exercise. Several times, the trail starts to head down the side of the mountain only to curve back up to the ridge. About every hour, I call out for a break, and we stop for a few minutes. The second time we do this, I fall asleep, and I realize that the quick catnap is very refreshing. Finally, we are passed by David Snipes and soon thereafter we truly start to head down off the mountain. The trail smoothes out somewhat, and I catch a little motivation as I run the last half-mile into Edinburg. Joe Clapper is the aid station captain here, and the place looks like a MASH unit. There have been some big names that dropped here tonight—two former winners, and there is currently about four or five people sitting around the fire who will not continue. Doug takes his shoes off and one of his big toes is black and blue and twice the size it should be. I wish him well, but know that I need to get out of this aid station before my body convinces my mind to drop. I find out later that Doug’s race ends at this aid station.

Mile 84.1 4:00:03 (29:16 avg./mile) Woodstock Gap

We leave Edinburg with several other runners. Joe is the perfect pacer. He is fairly quiet, and he keeps catching me when I start to loose my balance and begin falling backwards. David Snipes is with us as we start the climb up Powell Mountain. He is talking about the 2:50 it took him to get over Short Mountain. Before we reach the ridge, the sun has started to brighten the eastern sky, and David Snipes has gone by me for good. Over this stretch, I again take breaks about every hour and get about three or four minutes of sleep in before Joe wakes me. When I get to Woodstock, I am glad that I have managed to pick my pace up slightly. At the aid station, I eat a bowl of oatmeal and drink some coffee. I think I also had coffee at the last aid station. The sun is now fully up, and Martha tells me that I need to average better than 30 minutes per mile to come in under the 36-hour cutoff.

Mile 89.3 2:19:10 (26:46 avg./mile) Powell’s Fort

I really try to pick things up on this section, but mentally things are really getting tough. I continue to take catnaps about every hour. However, now I start wanting to see the next aid station to the point that every rock or trees off in the distance sort of looks like a vehicle or a gate that would indicate the next aid station. Joe says that he is going to have to take off at the next aid station because he promised his wife he would be home by 5pm. I tell him no problem now that it is fully daylight. He got me through the night, and now I just have to bring myself to the finish.

Mile 96.8 3:13:02 (25:44 avg./mile) Elizabeth Furnace

I am motivated to finish, but there are still 12.5 miles to go. Not really close enough to throw the kick in yet. Not like I really have much of a kick left! The initial trail leaving Powell’s Fort is on a nice gravel road, and I know that I am making decent time, but then the trail turns sharply uphill, and it is a true test to even make it to the top. I actually pass another guy shortly before the top. Fortunately, as soon as we get to the top, we start going down the other side. However, the trail down to the aid station snakes and curves all over the place. I think I hear the aid station a good hour before I actually make it to it. I continue to take catnaps, but now I have to set my timer on my watch for five minutes since I don’t have Joe to wake me up. It is amazing to me that I can get four minutes and 45 seconds worth of sleep on a five-minute timer. My legs and mind are quite refreshed after each catnap. At the aid station, I eat a slice of pizza and wash it down with another pint of chocolate milk.

Mile 101.8 2:02:46 (24:33 avg./mile) FINISH

I have five miles to the finish, and supposedly there are two miles to the top of this next climb, and then three miles down. I have two hours and 45 minutes to get in under the cutoff, but I tell Martha that I think I can do it in two hours flat. I head out of the aid station turning down an offer for an ice cream sandwich, and start the last (hopefully) climb of the race. Any hopes of this being an easier climb are dash about halfway up the mountain. The rocks are large, and I start to worry that maybe I won’t make it to the top in an hour. Actually, it ends up taking me 1:05 to the top, and I am truly worried about the cutoff. Nothing would be worse than working this hard and missing the cutoff by a few minutes. After the top, I start running out of fear of missing the cutoff. I run as long as I can until the pain in my feet and legs becomes very intense. Finally, I walk because I think I will make the cutoff, and I want to save something for the final stretch across the field to the finish line. When I finally emerge from the trees to cross the field, I pick up my legs and find that there is still a little life left in them. I start to think about the effort that has been required of me, and I start to get a little emotional before I turn it off. I hear some people start to cheer for me, take one last look over my shoulder to make sure nobody is closing on me, and then stride toward the finish line. I am greeted first by Vicki Kendall, and she tells me to kiss the finish line, which I do. The USA Today photographer covering the race snaps the picture, and it will appear in the Tuesday edition.

Official Finishing Time 35:18:50

91^th out of 143 starters (93 finishers)

Setting out on this race, I thought I knew how difficult it was going to be, but I wasn’t even close. This race is brutal and a true test of determination and endurance—both physical and mental. I have never stayed awake so long (not counting the catnaps), and it is a surreal experience. I just want to sit at the finish for a long time and soak it all in. Gary Knipling, David Snipes, and many others are there to congratulate me, and I talk about my chin a lot. The legend of my chin grew throughout the night, and I have to assure everyone that I still have all of my teeth. Fortunately, I am not the last official finisher as two more runners come in after me and before the cutoff.

All through the race I vowed to myself to finish and then never come back, but now that I have finished, I think about the great challenge that this race is, and I begin to wonder how fast I can do it now that I know the course well. I also wonder how much better my time would be on a good day because this was not a good day, but it was a good day in the end because I persevered.

Never stop running,

Darin