I had missed the lottery for BRR 50 by only a few short numbers and took position on the wait list at a distant number 66. Unbeknown to me that I'd ever see the entrants list, I ended up signing up and racing the NJ Ultra Fest 50miler just 3 weeks prior to Bull Runs race date. Despite an amazing race (time of 11:24:40), I left ultrafest with some LCL issues to the left knee but nothing some good 'ol R&R wouldn't fix.
Not even a week before BRR 50's race day, I found I had left my position on the wait list and took stance on the entrants list as Bib #225!! Unwilling to withdraw, the executive decision had been made for me that I was going to run!
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| OCD pre-race setup |
I made it down to Manassas, VA Friday night and checked into the Days Inn. I quick grabbed a cup of coffee and drove to the start where I routinely picked up my race bib, tshirt, and complimentary beer glass. Amongst some other runners, including a friend, Adam, I'd met months before at Virgil Crest, we sat and listened to our pre-race briefing... which mainly consisted of 3 points: don't litter, don't get lost, and have fun. After which, I headed back to my hotel, set out my belongings in OCD fashion for race start and tried to slip away into sweet slumber!
I arrived at Hemlock Overlook at 530, grabbed some water and a muffin from the complimentary breakfast and sat around to chat with other runners, including Adam and his friend Ray, and my new friend Gray (who runs with Happy Trails) who I had the pleasure to meet at Ultrafest in NJ. The beauty of these type of events is that so often we're caught meeting up with friends from past races!! Its even more refreshing to chat with other runners who don't find it crazy that we're about to set out onto the trails for practically an entire day... running a distance that most would find too much to even drive :)
At 630a on the dot, we were off. A short run around the parking lot to spread out and onto the trail we went. I figured this race would be relatively easy coming off of a previous 50, as the website stated that an elevation profile would consist of a 'flat line with several small bumps'. I'm not sure if the RD needs new glasses, or possibly a new watch that has elevation on it... but 'small bumps' are hardly what I encountered within just the first few short miles!
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| Popes Head Crossing. Photo by Robert Fabia |
I found myself walking very early on, as these 'bumps' so to speak, seemed like mini-mountains (this coming from a runner who lives in Philadelphia where its predominantly flat, and doesn't spend the much needed time hill training she should). Either way, I coasted along and took my place with the rest of the back of the packers who I was sure to spend the next 12 hours or so with on the trails.
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| Near the turnaround. Photo by Mike Bur |
The first 16 miles weren't as bad as I thought. Towards the turnaround at mile 9.4 there was some really nice flat areas that were easily runnable, not to mention beautiful, and it was really enjoyable! I picked a pace that was a little too frisky for me in those early miles though... which would undoubtedly take its toll in the latter miles. As we trotted back to Hemlock at the start, we were introduced to the final hill leading back to the finish which would be a killer at mile 49. Quickly, I crested the hill, made my way along the grassy field and up to the start where I grabbed a snack at the aid station and headed back down the trail for more fun. (I might want to add here that pickles are not something I should eat anymore at aid stations... my stomach was not pleased). The day was early and it was still quite cool which made the run just that much better!
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| Running down my new trail friend at Mile 21. Photo by Aaron Schwartzbard |
The temperature was beginning to rise and it was definitely going to be a long day. I made the next 2 miles in some decent time and arrived at the Fountainhead Aid station where I grabbed some chips and headed back down the trail towards the infamous Do Loop at mile 32.5. It was here that things went south...
The knee was SCREAMING. The pain was bringing me to tears. I grabbed another dosing of ibuprofen at Do Loop and set out for 2.5 miles of extreme pain. The Do Loop was not flat by any standards of flat. The rolling hills felt like mountains. Each up hurt, each down killed. I started planning and accepting my DNF. This race just wasn't going to happen for me today. Imagining 20 more miles of this unbearable pain was out of the question.
Somehow I made it back to the Do Loop aid station at 35.5, ate a quick orange and a few pieces of cantaloupe, and decided that 2ish more miles back to Fountainhead were doable. I jogged when I could, walked most of the time, texted friends explaining why I was going to drop, and just kept trucking forward. I think I was passed numerous times in these mere 2 miles... but that was okay.... I was still moving forward.
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| Fountainhead Aid Station. Photo by Robert Fabia |
I arrived back at Fountainhead to some incredible volunteers. They quick grabbed my pack and filled me up with ice and gave me some much needed encouragement to just push through another 2 miles back to Wolf Run Shoals at mile 39.9. I even grabbed a slice of Pizza to go. Such service!!
How, or why, I listened to them I don't know, but that "Continuous forward Motion" kept me going... and I arrived at Wolf Runs with time to spare. The stomach was starting to go sour about now, and eating anything didn't seem like a good idea, so I grabbed a few chips and a few grapes just for SOMETHING.
Mile 39.9. C'mon Melissa. At this point I'm not sure if it was sheer stubbornness or what... but I decided that anything was possible for 10 miles. I made the decision that I would continue forward, as slowly and painfully as possible, until I finished or until they kicked me off the course! A DNF because I was withdrawing was unacceptable at this point!!
The trail back to Bull Run Marina had some decent hills that made each step hell! I found a few stragglers that I ended up walking and occasionally jogging with, chatting about how beautiful this course was! With just under a half a mile to the Marina a volunteer out on the trail informed us we had 11mins to make it to the aid station to meet the cutoff. With every ounce of energy and will I could muster, I jogged. The "what I think I look like" and "what I KNOW I look like" were both hand in hand right about now... I can assure you I looked like shit.
With 3 minutes left on the clock, I arrived at the Marina, mile 44.9, grabbed some ice and a few chips and set back out onto the trail. I was later told that several people dropped at the Marina... which was crazy... as there was less than 5 miles left and we had 90 minutes to get there!!
It was this section of trail that everything died. My stomach was shot, both my knees stopped functioning with any functionality that knees normal should and I found myself just barely able to walk let alone jog. Regardless, I kept moving forward.
Around mile 47, I was met by the "Sweepers" cleaning up the trail and finding any stragglers over the last few mile stretch. Pretty depressing I must admit to be met by the sweepers. Fortunately, they were amazing and vowed to stick with me the next 3 miles to assure a finish. I found I could speed walk a 16-17min/mi pace with them urging me on, and even found a brief stretch that I was able to jog before resigning myself back to a walk. The volunteers kept trying to push me forward a little faster as we could still meet the official cutoff time, but I knew it wasn't my day. Moving forward at any speed other than "slow" was detrimental!
The Blue Bells were still in bloom along the river the final stretch and it was truly beautiful.. that is... until we met back up with mile 49 and the hill that would inevitably be the death of me. Hill... I say... felt more like steep mountain by this point. Each step was brutal. My knees and my stomach continued to remind me every few seconds why I should have dropped at mile 30 when I first made my
decision to quit. But without doubt, I made it to the top. We strolled across the grassy field straight to the road where we saw the finish clock.
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| The Finish. Photo by Stefan Fedyschyn |
Greeted with an ovation of cheers and congratulations, I crested the finish at 13:12 (12 minutes after the cutoff). Despite not being an "official finisher", I finished.... I didn't quit when everything told me that I should have. It even turns out I wasn't last... another runner came in just minutes behind me.
The VHTRC puts on an incredible race, on an amazing trail, with phenomenal volunteers. I will definitely be back to take my place on the "official" finishers list in the future. I learned a lot about myself this race...mostly about my willpower and desire not to quit even when quitting seems like the only rational decision. I'm proud to say that I crossed that finish line- irregardless of my time- it was 50 miles.
See you soon BRR. I'll be back :)
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