Mountain Mist 50K
Monte Sano State Park, Alabama
January 27, 2007
www.HuntsvilleTrackClub.org
(select the Mountain Mist button)
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I had a marathon scheduled for
both Dec 17, 2006 and for March 4, 2007 so I was scurrying about to find
a marathon held mid-way between these 2 events: all before I left town
for Jacksonville. Nothing! So, I resorted to a search for an ‘ultra’, and
came across the “Mountain Mist 50K”, which was being held on January 27th
in Alabama. Seeing the number of entrants was nearing the ‘cap’ of 330
for this event, I hurriedly mailed in my entry and then headed south for
Florida.
Upon my return to town, I was able to
spend more time researching the “Mist” and was taken aback when I found
this disclaimer on the races’ homepage, “very few runners over the age
of 60 finish this race”, it warned. Originally, I believed this to be a
‘come-on’, a ‘laying down of the gauntlet’, or a ‘silly dare’ for all we
veteran runners. Imagine my chagrin when, after perusing the complete list
of entrants, I could only find 3 runners older than I!
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I leave town at
10:00 am on Friday morning and drive a leisurely 280 miles to Monte Sano
(Healthy Mountain) State Park, which is located just east of Huntsville.
The $10.00 pasta dinner, which includes salads, pasta, pizza, deserts and
beverages, also serves as the pre-race meeting, and the race director seemed
to take special delight when issuing the following alerts:
• “The chances of you falling on these
trails are great”.
• “When you fall, the chances of
you landing on a rock are excellent”.
• “This is the 13th annual running
of the Mist and every year someone breaks a bone”.
• “The most common broken bones
are hands, arms and ribs”.
• “If you do not make the cutoffs,
you will be pulled from the course”.
• “The ‘Waterline’ (one of the races
major climbs) is not a walk, is not a hike, and is not a run. It’s a climb”.
Oh well, at least the food is good.
I have parked
my van in the lodges parking lot and at 6:20 am I awake to my alarm, eat
breakfast, wash and shave, and ready myself for the task at hand. Just
before the races’ start, I wisely rethink my running apparel and opt to
remove a few layers, leaving me wearing shorts, a long-sleeve coolmax shirt,
sunglasses, gloves and a hat. We start, and after a short time on asphalt
(?) we enter into the parks single-track trail system. In the early going,
it’s quite crowded for us ‘back-of-the-packers’, but no one is overly concerned---there’s
a long way to go. Oops, both of my feet have just slipped out from under
me and my tailbone makes sudden contact with a large, flat boulder that
serves as the trail here at the 1-1/2 mile mark. Upward and onward, I continue
along while making small talk with all those nearby. I’ve reached Aid Station
#1 (6.5 miles) in 1:18:17 (12 min/mile) and I’m very pleased with my time.
(I later found out that 2 runners pulled themselves from the course at
this stage.) My needs are not great at aid stations because I always wear
my belt complete w/a bottle filled with 6 goos, a water bottle, a Gatorade
bottle, gum and candy, bandanas, wristbands, gloves, band-aids and moleskin
for my feet, sunscreen, vasoline and aspirins. I’ve worn this belt in 29
marathons and in 9 ultras, as well as in all my long training runs, and
I no longer know that it is there: it is a part of me.

I head off
into a section of the woods where the trail system has taken a decided
turn for the worse. Although I feel that I am cruising along well under
control, I am forced to slow myself in the name of safety. At 6-3/4, I
come upon a 1-mile downhill where I lose time to the course!!! At about
8 miles I come face to face with K2, and it provides me with hint of what
lies ahead. This is a most difficult climb that covers one mile and it
is brutal; yet, I know there are steeper, longer climbs in the upcoming
miles. Nevertheless, I do make it to Aid Station #2 (11.7 miles) in 2:31:32
(12:54 min/mile). I refill my bottles, grab some grub, and go.
The next 4 miles
prove to be a series of medium grade ‘ups and downs’ over the ever-present,
ankle-twisting rocks; which cause me to slow my pace yet again. I’ve reached
Aid Station #3 (16.9 miles) in 3:49:19 (13:35 min/mile) Although
I’m slowing noticeably in these early stages of the run; I’m pleased with
beating the first official cutoff time by 26 minutes. Nine others were
not as fortunate as I.
It’s mostly downhill
for the next 4 miles as the course drops from 1400’ to 1000’, and the miles
pass by without incident. I’ve reached Aid Station #4 (20.9 miles)
in 4:17:43 (13:45 min/mile). I’m now only 22 minutes ahead of the cutoff.
This time 6 runners fall victim to the dreaded cutoff.
Waterline
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Unfortunately
for me, the race is only starting as I now begin the most critical leg
of the race. I’m able to manage the next 2 miles in my accustomed manner
but upon arriving at mile 22, I’m brought to a sudden standstill as I take
in the infamous ‘waterline’. Overcome with awe and fear, I carefully begin
my ascent. The total climb is roughly 2 miles, one of which is up a near-vertical
rock-face that proves to be even more dangerous than it is difficult, and
it is difficult. I have made a conscious decision to employ a “3-points-of-contact-with-the-planet”
strategy so as to provide myself with some illusion of safety! It is impossible
to negotiate this climb with just the use of ones legs, and I’m constantly
grabbing for roots, rocks and trees to aid in my ascent. (Editors note:
this climb parallels a waterfall which accounts for both its’ steepness
and the unsafe footing that the rocks and mud fail to provide.) The
worst part is finally behind me, and still the trail climbs upwards. Finally,
I stumble into Aid Station #5 (24.9 miles) in 6:10:40 (14:54 min/mile).
Much to my dismay (ha), I have beaten the cutoff by 9 minutes and;
therefore, I must continue on!!!! It turns out that 3 more runners are
eliminated from the race and I am the last person to beat the cutoff of
6:20:00. |
Now the pressure
has been turned up considerably. The race shuts down at 8-1/2 hours and
I know there is another major climb ahead of me, and I know how I feel
after crawling up the waterline so I’m functioning in a ‘state-of-fear’.
I can’t imagine running for 31 miles over such difficult terrain, and not
have it count!
No longer able
to run, I am now in full ‘power-walk’ mode: head down, arms madly swinging
to and fro, I drive myself forward. I don’t talk, I don’t spit, I don’t
chew, and I don’t waste a single motion that might consume any precious
energy that resides within me. When the trails allows, I sprinkle in some
jogging, but my body rebels at this notion. And then I see it! The last
climb towers upwards for 600 feet with no summit in sight, and it all starts
at mile 28!!! Now I’m sure that all hills at this stage of the game can
be intimidating, but this 1-mile climb is sucking the life out of me. There
is no outstanding feature to this hill other than it is constant. There
are no downs, no levels, and no easy ups. It’s steep and it’s difficult.
At long last, I crest the summit at the 29.2-mile mark to be greeted with
the best section of trail (1.8 miles) of the entire course. Unfortunately
for me, it has come too late for there is no 'run' in me and again, I must
resort to ‘power-walking’.
Hey, 8:06:06. Whatever was I concern about;
I beat the cutoff be 24 minutes.
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Top of Mountain Mist
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Race Summary
• The weather proved to be
most co-operative; although, the sun was nowhere to be seen and I surely
missed its’ warming affects. Also, when one runs in the mountains, he will
find that the cold air often settles in the various valleys and hollows;
and, the wind seems ever-present when running the ridges and on the summits.
• The terrain proved to be
a major mitigating circumstance for me. Most of this race took place on
fist-size, grapefruit-size or larger, pointy rocks. I’m fully aware that
this is a trail run, but I’ll never figure out how the better runners seem
to glide over these obstacles.
• The numbers are: 330 entrants,
280 starters, and 260 finishers. On a personal note, I was last to make
the key cutoff at 25, I was last in my age group, and I was 2nd last overall
(by 40 seconds); and yet I couldn’t be more pleased with my effort. The
climbs did not defeat me, and for 8 hours and 6 minutes I never stopped
moving forward. Hey, that’s longer than most peoples’ workday.
• The accoutrements, such
as the pasta dinner, the aid stations, the many door prizes, and the post-race
party, were all excellent: as was the job done by the race director, his
staff, and the many volunteers who manned their various workstations with
outstanding dedication to their tasks.
• A word of warning to the
wise: this race is a serious undertaking and if you are thinking about
entering the world of ‘ultras’, don’t choose this race for your maiden
voyage. A person should work up to this level of difficulty so as not to
be disappointed enough to drop out of ‘trails’.
• The rewards for competing
in, and finishing ultras are most satisfying, and the resulting ‘sense
of accomplishment’ can overwhelm a person. That’s the hook. That’s what
keeps trail-runners coming back. Passing the test.

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