Adventures in nature, music, and robots

So it's been almost 4 months since I raced the Cruel Jewel 50. And since then, it's been a wild ride. Mostly because I took a really bad spill on the Appalachian Trail on my first big trail run after CJ... and subsequently got multiple fractures in the top of my humerus... so I was promptly down to zero running! But that's not what this post is about. This post is about an incredible experience I had at my last race- the CRUEL JEWEL!

Me and the legendary Brian Montero! He helped me immensely in the training leading up to the race.

The fifty miler (which is actually a solid 56 miles) started Saturday, May 18th, 2019. The morning was coolish... probably upper 50's. I think we all wanted cooler, but we knew it could be warmer, so I was fairly pleased. I saw countless friends at the start line and volunteering in the aid station at Camp Morganton. I'm always amazed at how volunteers who have been up all night with zero sleep can still be so amazing... and the volunteers that morning were no exception. They'd been helping 100 milers all night and still happily served with a smile.

THE GNAR OF IT ALL!! 56 miles and 13,000' elevation gain!!

Aid station cheat sheets

more aid station cheat sheets

The gun went off at 8am and I stuck with my plan, which was to hang on to my buddy Brian's shoulder for as long as possible. Brian has numerous CJ50 finishes under his belt and they were ALL impressive times. He knows a thing or two about how to pace these events and we had done an amazing point-to-point 50k training run on the AT together in early April and felt really dialed in. Soon I was sitting in probably 20th place, but knowing full well that I should be able to reel folks in later in the day. Brian and I ended up with a small group while running the rolling terrain on the Flat Creek loop near Deep Gap aid station. I felt okay. Cruising. Just one Hoka in front of the other... not overthinking things. I saw Coach Janice after the loop and gave her the thumbs up- everything felt good... but it was oh so early in the day. Soon afterwards we were climbing in earnest up the mountain, eventually to the Benton MacKaye and then we hung a right to go down, down, down to Weaver Creek. I just couldn't believe how far this trail kept descending and since that is an out-and-back section I was able to see all the leaders crushing back up. And holy shit were they crushing. Just stupid fast. I think Nathan Holland already had 45 minutes on me by mile 13. Unreal. Still... I just told myself to relax and play the long game. Which brings up my mantra for the day: "Chill to Wil"... which is short for "Keep the pace chill until Wilscot", which is about 50k into the race. And soon after Wilscot is where the race truly begins (well.... maybe more accurately, it's after Skeenah Gap at mile 36).

So at Weaver Creek I still feel good. Everything seems to be clicking. The air is not too hot yet (it's actually quite nice) and my stomach is behaving. I even ate some pbj at Weaver. All is well. Then the monster climb comes up... and we knew what was ahead because we had just descending that emeffer! On the way up I power hiked almost all of it. Actually that was my plan all day. Stay PATIENT and hike the ups. Don't get over excited and start running the ups... especially not early on. Keep it chill, eat a shit ton, drink a shit ton, be patient and then have a come-to-Jesus moment on the Dragon's Spine.

After finally peaking out, I started feeling really good. And itching to CRANK. Which is a dangerous feeling at mile 16 or so of a 56 mile race. Up to that point I had been Brian's shadow for a couple of hours, but when Brian stopped to tie his shoe I couldn't just stand there and stare at him, so I kept moving. Alone. And picking up the pace. And really starting to fly down to Stanley Creek. I'm scared. Too soon? Heartrate is still in check. I'm not PUSHING per say... I'm just letting gravity carry me (or so I'm telling myself). I see my buddy Mike Babcock when I come in hot to Stanley Creek and he tells me the leader (still Nathan) is about 1 hour ahead of me. Good grief. Absurd. Now I'm not vying for any of the top spots, I just find it interesting to hear how the leaders are doing. Somewhere a good distance ahead of me is the lead female too- none other than the Hardrock champion Sabrina Stanley. The studs came out to play today.

But you know what... I came to play FOR REAL. I mean literally PLAY. I had an epiphany on race week... I LOVE running in the mountains. And at Cruel Jewel I've trained my body to the point where I have the honor of PLAYING and RUNNING/HIKING in the mountains all day. So I had every intention of enjoying it. And I kept that thought present throughout the day. And I really think it helped.

I was familiar with the terrain after Stanley and all the way to Old Dial thanks to crewing my buddy Brian Johnson the previous year. It's non-technical and the longest descent of the course. Good section of pavement too You can move. But it also enters the first legit SUNNY and EXPOSED section of the course right when it's getting closet to noon. I get some aid quickly and get back on course. And again just let gravity take control. Let's cruise. This is my bread and butter. As I get older I think non-technical buffed out trails in the 50k-50mile distance may be my sweet spot. I'm clocking around 8 flat per mile for a good stretch, but feeling very smooth, in control and not at all like I'm stepping on the gas. Still staying on top of my Tailwind, water and gels. I know the hard part is still yet to come.

bridge over Toccoa River at mile 23 or so.

Toccoa River

I see my crew- Linc and Keith- at Old Dial (roughly a marathon in). I'm feeling pretty golden still. STOKED! They transition me like a gottdern NASCAR pit crew. Keith grabs my vest, fills it with water. Linc grabs my ice bandana and slaps it on my neck (SECRET WEAPON). They throw the vest back on. Stuff me with food. Gimme the Tailwind slurry (I got this from Linc- mix 10 scoops of TW with like 16 oz water in a soft bladder up front... sip the TW, chase with water allllll damn day). I wipe my salty face and they send me off. I swear it was like a 60 second transition. Good crew is CRUCIAL, ya'll. No doubt about it. And it's such a selfless thing too. Having crewed a couple of these type of things I know 100% how hard it can be to crew (and do it right) and I have nothing but love and respect for these guys!

They send me off and I'm immediately climbing up whatever-the-hell that ridiculous grind is called... and by this point I'm running into a lot of folks in the adventure race happening in the area. And they are all pretty supportive. I'm also continuing to pass more and more people. Using my poles as much as possible. Many of the folks I passed were 100 milers and you could tell b/c it looked like the went through ABSOLUTE HELL already. I really felt for those guys and girls. But I was also passing 50 milers who went out too hot. And it felt damn good to pass folks with confidence. The plan was coming together. Still strong. Still power hiking the ups. Still plenty in the gas tank. But damn I wanted to get over that friggin' mountain already. My sweet thang and my baby girl were waiting on me over that mountain at Wilscot Gap and I was ready to see them! After was seemed a lot longer that it should have been, I actually pulled into Wilscot just about when I thought I would.. about 6 hours 15 min's.... 6 hours was my "A" goal, so I'm slightly behind, but not by much. And i'm STOKED AS HELL. My family is there, my crew is there and I even had 2 good friends from Atlanta show up just for the spectacle of it all. To hit the 50k mark feeling GREAT and seeing your entire support system is just magical. Still, though, I didn't want to hang around too much (ended up being about 7 min transition all said and done). I got topped off and gave all the sweaty hugs and kisses they could tolerate and I was gone. One little set of rollers until I see my crew for the final time at Skeenah Gap and then take a ride on the Dragon's Spine!

Feeling super confident at Wilscot. Plan is coming together.

Setting out from Wilscot I was on a high. Feeling the best I could have imagined at that point in the race. I've had multiple 50k's in past years where I felt like death warmed over wellllll before this point, so I was very happy that things were panning out. Eating lots, drinking lots, keeping the pace under control. Boom, boom, boom. Thankfully this next stretch wasn't too difficult either. I did hit a tiny slump here, but still felt mostly good with the rolling terrain and continuing to be able to pass people. Seemed like I should be getting close to Skeenah and then all of the sudden I could hear people and cars in the distance... so naturally I start whoopin and hollerin as loud as possible. I'M HERE BABY!!! COME AT ME!!! I drop down to the highway and see my whole crew again. SO MUCH LOVE. And then I hear a tiny bike horn and see my 6'4" crew leader, Linc, on his youngest daughter's bike riding down the road. HILARIOUS. Damn I'm glad those guys were having fun. I could just feed off of their enthusiasm. At my crew's makeshift aid station I take some calories, fill bottles, fill the ice bandana one last time (CLUTCH PIECE OF GEAR) and shove a piece of pizza in my gullet... and I'm off! Time for my VERY FIRST TIME climbing Rhodes mountain up and out of Skeenah Gap to link up with the infamous Dragon's Spine!....... oh and on the way out I see Anthony Nasser. Now Anthony is a stud on the trails... and I was pretty sure he was racing... so why was he standing on the side of the road? Turns out he had a rough go and had to drop, but he tells me his brother, Chris, is up ahead and to quote Anthony, "my brother's not a trail runner, he's a triathlete, so you should go run him down". The funny thing is Anthony and I had just run Helenback marathon together in late April... and I passed him about 20 feet before the finish line (whoops... thought he was in the half). I was NOT about to have another near photo finish with a Nasser brother this time! So time to reel in Chris I suppose....

So great to see my sweet family at 2 points during the race!

Poles up, eyes on the prize. LET'S GO!

Linc was the life of the party at Skeenah. I'm glad I didn't NEED the comic relief, but could still enjoy it!

"Dada- aid stations are just about non-stop snacking in the shade... I love it"

So that climb out of Skeenah... yeah it's a bastard. I felt every bit of that elevation I'd been studying on the topo map for months. Hiking was the only option... and I wouldn't even call it "power hiking". It was more akin to "slowly climbing uphill while just trying to not die". Oh and did I mention the heat? This was the absolute hottest part of the race for me. It was probably in the low to mid-80's, but after a long winter that was HOT. I didn't realize how west-facing this section is... low sun just beating down on me at 3:45 in the afternoon. Something like 1000' gain in 1.5 miles. Just nasty. But I continued. And somewhere after that stretch I see Chris. I creep on him and say "hey man, your brother is talking shit about you".... "said you weren't a really a trail runner"..."I call bullshit because you're sitting in the top 10 about 39 miles deep at Cruel Jewel... YOU'RE A TRAIL RUNNER!". He's hurting though. But we link up and share some trail together. Then he starts to fade. And I'm hurting too, but stomach is still good. And I'm in deep shade. So life is ok. I absolutely KNOW I can and WILL finish this at this point! And just about that time I see that we're routed onto the "Fish Gap Reroute"... you know, that section that everyone was raising hell about online? "Oh this ruins it, they're flattening out the Dragon's Spine, what's the point.. i hate it"... well no matter what my opinion of the reroute was before CJ, I can damn sure tell you that I was happier than hell to cruise on that flat-to-downhill trail goodness 9 hours into the hardest race of my life. NO COMPLAINTS. Gimme more. It's all good. The funny thing is I really thought I was opening up my stride and cruising some fast miles on that nice reroute, but my watch told a different story. 12' mile, 13' mile, 11:30 mile. Yeah not exactly flying. But still I've studied enough Strava race reports to know that stronger runners than me have started seeing 20, 25, 30 or even 40 minutes miles on the DRT by this point. I'm calling it a win. Even if a 12' mile feels like a 7' mile. Who gives a shit anyways.

My expression says it all. Click, click, click.

At this point i've worked my way up to maybe 6th or 7th overall and I'm anxiously awaiting my arrival at Fish Gap, because I know my boys from Helenback Race Series have been there like 2 days and seeing familiar faces will be a big boost for my final push. Plus one of those fellas is my good friend Thad Gilliam. A total ultra-stud who I really admire and one of the OG Oakhurst run clubbers that help reshape me as a runner going back a decade or more (after taking a good portion of my 20's off from running). And it truly was a good feeling when I did see them. I was trying to work up a good joke to share with them before arriving, but the best I could come up with was "I'll take the tilapia sandwich".... Jesus Christ. In my ultra-dumb mind I seriously thought that would be funny to ask at Fish Gap. I'm a complete turd. Joke bombed, but then they offered me a hot dog, so I opted for a half weiner and we danced to Beyonce. I was having fun. Too much fun. Then they're like... "Hey Nathan Holland's not that far ahead of you and he was having a rough time... and there's another guy not far either"... I'm like "yeah cool whatever"... and they say "SO GET BACK OUT THERE AND CATCH SOME PEOPLE"...(I had spent about 5 mins in the aid station)..... Oh right. The race. Yeah I should do that. Home stretch baby!!!! #halfweinersandbeyonce

Now remember my mantra was "Chill to Wil"... but there was a second half to that mantra that I was pretty nervous to admit to folks. It was "Cut Loose after Coos(a)". Like "lit it rip" after cresting Coosa. Cuz that's totally possible with 50 miles on your legs on a reasonably warm day, right? Riiiiiiiiight. Well I will say this...I was mentally cutting loose and doing the best I could... I could smell the barn BIG TIME. I cruised through the last aid station (White Oak?) and had passed another 1 or 2 runners, then I start the climb up Coosa. But before that I decided to put on some music for the first time. I carried my iPhone solely for this purpose. I've been running for the better part of the last 25 year and never been the type to listen to music, but as of late when I'm deep into long training runs or races I sometimes crank the tunes. And I'm that asshole that doesn't use headphones or ear buds. I just play it out the speaker while it's in my vest (yeah i know... shitty me). But listen, I was alone AF at that point. No sign of Nathan. Sabrina Stanley is handily whoopin' my ass. The folks I passed were toast. I'm in no man's land and absolutely loving it. So I put on some Billie Eilish and CRANK THAT SHIT (no judgement, bitches). I'm crusin' up Coosa, jammin' hard like the balding, almost-middle-aged-man that I am... NO SHAME. And at the top the sun is low enough to hit all the stunted white oak trees and light them up in the warmest amber glow I could ever imagine. Holy shit. Spiritual moment. And I realized. I made it to Coosa by sunset. That was my A goal. COOSA BY SUNSET. NO HEADLAMP. Dang, ya'll. Running during that golden hour before sunset on the highest point of the CJ course was a dream come true. And I feel the best I could possibly hope for. I can channel just an ounce of that feeling right now as I type and it's intoxicating. THIS IS WHY I RUN. I'm on top of the world. I started thinking of my baby girl and caught myself babbling like her.. mimicking her "bit-der-bit-der-bit-der-bit-der" babbling sound she made at that age (already grown out of that and on to actual words now). I'm a crazy running fool yelling baby-talk and blasting Billie Eilish at sunset at the 12th hour of the hardest ass 50 mile race in Georgia. And I'm 100% in love with it all.

Coosa Bald just before sunset. Forever a happy moment in my mind.

Now the hard part. Turns out "cutting loose" down Coosa bald wasn't exactly happening. It was more like... hey just keep "running" or something that loosely resembles running. And don't fall. And try to make it to the hwy before needing my headlamp. I was having to come up with new goals on the fly, b/c I had pretty much hit all my "A" goals. I realized I might have a chance to break 13 hours. I'm continuously doing the math every time my Garmin beeps as I click off another mile. Still thinking I could make it to the finish even without my headlamp. But finish under 13 hours?! I literally didn't even consider it before the race, so it was hard to visualize that to reality now. Plus I was hitting the hardest part of the Coosa loop. The stretch from Wolf Creek up to hwy 180. YES I SAID IT. Harder than the climb up or down Coosa. Harder than the climb up or down Slaughter. THIS SHIT HURTS. I've run it during the DRT 30k and it slays me every time. Fuck that climb. So deceiving. It was all I had to stay under 20 mins per mile at that point. Good grief. And yet after what seemed like the absolute longest part of the course, I make it to hwy 180. I had just put on my headlamp less than 60 second before.

At that point I had pretty much given up on breaking 13 hours. I know it's all downhill to the finish. But it's pretty much dark in the woods at this point. And it's quite rocky from 180 down to the campground. I just kinda posthole my way through the rock pile and try to stay vertical. Then I start to see RVs and tents and people with headlamps... and PAVEMENT. Then something came over me. I realized that I'd been conserving myself out of fear. Fear I would go out too hard, fear I would bonk, fear i wouldn't finish. And I started sprinting. And yes, I mean sprinting (as much as an ultrarunner can sprint). I'm running 6 flat pace. My watch is creeping towards 12 hours, 57 minutes. Still. Under. 13. I see my best friend/crew member Keith and say "let's go". I make him work for every stride.

Let's go, brother. Ain't over just yet.

...Still 6' pace. I know I'm gonna miss cracking 13, but I have to sprint this out. I see Liza and baby Pheenie. I come to an almost dead stop to kiss them on my to the finish. Sprint resumes. Blood pumping. Body is buzzing. Finish line in sight. GO. GO. GO. GO. GO.

....13 hours, 31 seconds.

HOT DAMN. I will take it. I just finished my first Cruel Jewel 50 miler. In top 5 overall. I felt great all day. I had some slightly low points, but NOTHING really bad. I stuck to my plan. I enjoyed it. I started smooth and easy. I tried to not get too excited early on. I put the work in for 5 months leading up to the race. And I cashed in.

For weeks after the race people would congratulate me and ask me about the race. And I kept saying it was a "magic day". And yes, it felt magical. But it wasn't magic. Magic is "the power of apparently influencing the course of events by using mysterious or supernatural forces." This wasn't a mysterious force at play. This was months of hard work and discipline doing something I love, which culminated in an athletic feat of which I was always capable. I wanted to do it. I had a great coach who understands me and guided me well (Thank you, Janice!). I trained for it. I had support from friends and family. And I did the damn thing. Sure, I had fate on my side by not having any ultra-craziness ensue (stomach woes, chafing, blisters, injury, etc.), but it was mostly just following a recipe. So was it magical? Yes. But the result was earned. And I'm quite happy with it. Onward and upward.