Stone Cat 50 mile trail race report
This past Saturday I ran the Stone Cat 50 mile trail race. This was my first 50 mile race and, by four miles, the longest distance I’ve ever run. To be brief, this was one hell of an experience. But I’m not good at brevity so here’s my report:
The flight to Boston was the first first of the weekend: my first time traveling solo on an airplane. Anyone who knows me knows how much irrationally afraid of air travel I am, so fortunately the plan ride was uneventful (and because you’re reading this, obviously the flight home was too) and quick. My awesome friend and the one responsible for me getting into this mess in the first place, Ashley, picked me up from Logan International and we headed to her apartment in Cambridge. An easy shakeout along the Charles River and some catching up and that was it for the night. We got plenty of sleep and took our time getting up and out the door. There wasn’t much on the agenda for the day before the race. We had to pick up our numbers from the New England Running Company in Beverly. Then we drove over to the Doyon School where the race would start/finish the next day and ran the first ~2 miles of the course out and back. I’m glad we did that as I knew to expect some wet conditions. After that it was a short drive to Gloucester to meet up with Katie. While Ashley drove back to Logan to pick up Tyler who was flying in from Buffalo, Katie and I stocked up on some supplies and took a tour of the cute little fishing town. We went out to eat at Maria’s Pizza which was a delightful find with delicious food that on almost any other night I would have seriously overindulged in. My brother Scott arrived; making it just in time for food after having fought through traffic driving up from Long Island, and our little crew, which we named Team Awesome, was finally complete. Back at Katie’s I was making last minute preparations and getting everything ready for race day which would arrive extra early. I was in bed by about 10:30 and despite a somewhat racing head and heart, managed to sleep reasonably well.
I woke up before my alarm went off, right around 4:30 am. I was the first one up, with Katie not far behind. Despite how early it was, I was feeling awake and alert and ready to go. The rest of the group began stirring shortly after. I was dressed and eating breakfast in minutes and began packing my bag. We got on the road right around 5am and were at the school by 5:30. It was amusing driving there not seeing a single car on the road and then all of a sudden we were met with this hub of activity. Ashley and I walked into the school’s gym to check in. The volunteer there gave me a little crap about my Yankees sweatpants (as well she should have — I was in Red Sox country after all). There were runners everywhere, all over the gym stretching, dressing, applying Body Glide, and doing all the sorts of things you typically see runners do in the minutes before a race. The line for the bathroom seemed too long so I opted for the woods. By the time I was done with all that we walked over to the basketball courts where the race would finish. As I walked from the woods over to where the rest of the group was standing, my first moments alone in a while, I looked up at the crystal clear sky and just spent a second or two admiring it, lost and detached from what was about to happen. It was almost 6am but nothing really seemed set up and most people were still inside. I figured, correctly, that they decided to push the start back a bit to allow slightly sooner running in daylight on the first loop. I waited until I saw everyone coming out of the school and walking toward the start and then I took off my jacket and sweatpants, put on my gloves, get my headlamp ready and grab my water bottle. Ashley and I walked over to the start and gave each other a “good luck, kick ass” as I left her to get towards the front. We lined up on the edge of the field and the race director said some stuff that I don’t remember. Then he yelled,” 3, 2, 1 GO!” and like that, the race I have been training for since July had finally started.
The Stone Cat course is set up to be a good race for first-timers but I can see how experienced ultrarunners could still be challenged. The course is a 12.5 mile loop that starts at the school, runs across the field, turns onto some trails, winds through Willowdale State Forest before coming back out to the field. Repeat four times and that’s it. From a logistical standpoint, it makes life easy because I only needed to bring with you enough stuff for 12.5 miles and could leave everything else at the start/finish where the crew would have everything prepped and ready to go when I got in. At any point I was only about 5 miles from an aid station. The course itself is relatively easy, inasmuch as there are no serious, steep hills that force you to walk. Every inch of it can be run, and therein lies the difficulty. While there are SOME hills there’s no obvious spot to take it easy and running the whole thing can (and likely will) catch up with you later. As for how the actual race went…
It was a surreal experience to actually be doing the race I had spent so long thinking about and training with my focus specifically on. And for the first few steps, I wasn’t really. There’s a marathon that is run simultaneously with the 50 miler. They run an extra bit at the start around the school fields before doing two laps and calling it a day. Apparently the 50 milers were supposed to line up on the left side of the field because we were not going to do the extra field bit. Fortunately I realized this minor foible early and was able to cut across the field before we made the turn onto the actual trail.
As we hit the trail, three guys had very clearly moved well in front of everyone else already. Then there was a fourth guy a bit behind them and I fell in next to someone else in 5th/6th position. Thanks to our brief bit of course recon, I knew to expect some decent puddles early on here and to stay on the left side to avoid most of them. It was strange running through the woods with it being so dark, illuminated by all the lights ahead and behind me. As the trail turned I moved up past the guy I had been with briefly and another guy, just cruising along at a very relaxed effort and was all alone in 4th. The trio ahead of me probably already had about 100m and I quickly put out of my head any thoughts on trying to bridge the gap so early. I kept reminding myself that the first lap was like a long warm-up. I couldn’t do much good here but I could do a whole lot of awful if I ran stupidly.
I was not a fan of this first part in the dark. The course had a number of twists and turns and in the dark, even with my headlamp, there were sections where I got off-trail a few steps. Because of the winding nature of the trail, I would see the three lights ahead of me and get a bit confused when I ran in a different direction than it seemed they were moving. Worse than the navigation though, my hands were FREEZING. I knew to expect this beforehand but didn’t know what to do about it. My strategy was to run with one hand balled up in my glove while the other held the handheld bottle and then switch off when I needed. The problem was that even with the gloves on, the bottle chilled my hands so quickly it became a real issue. At times I had to run with it tucked under my arm like a football, which was not exactly comfortable. I definitely got a little whiny about the cold and the dark in my head here. At some point early in this loop I was running down a short hill, managed to get off trail and as I was attempting to correct myself, punched a tree with my right hand. OUCH! It jolted me for a second but I shook it off and kept going. I tried being cautious on the particularly winding sections, tried to stretch my legs a bit on the flatter stretches. About 3.5 miles in, the sun was finally starting to make its appearance and I was actually able to see more than just what was right in front of my face. And what I came to pretty soon was the “small creek crossing” mentioned on the race website. Thanks to the rains the previous weekend, the “small creek crossing” was decidedly not that small. It stretched on for probably a few hundred feet. Initially I thought maybe I could avoid getting my feet completely soaked by running along the edge. Nope. Not a chance. I quickly realized the folly of my attempt and plowed right through, the water occasionally reaching up to my shins. It was FREEZING cold, obviously, and my feet went instantly numb. This would be the best test yet for both my Brooks Pure Grit trail shoes and my Drymax socks. I hoped they were up to the task.
Shortly after that, right before I came to the first aid station, I wiped out on a little root. Nothing major, just scraped up my hands. Everyone here was extremely encouraging and helpful. Every aid station I came to throughout the day, someone immediately volunteered to take my bottle and refill it, but I had to continue to politely decline their offer. I decided to go with just water at the aid stations and sip from my coconut water bottle throughout the loops. I also ate three Clif shot blocks here (which had hardened up much like the Gu chomps did at the 40 miler and made it tougher to chew). I was in and out pretty quickly and back on the trail. The section between the first and second aid stations is only about 3.5 miles but it felt longer. At some point in this stretch, I turned off my headlamp. I also got caught and passed by Dave Herr (though I had no idea who it was at the time), who looked very strong. In and out of the second aid station, I ate a Gu Roctane (blueberry pomegranate) and was feeling very good, though my hands were still frozen. The volunteer who had given me crap about my Yankees sweats before the race was there and told me it’s a two minute penalty which made me chuckle. My feet, I was happy to note, seemed dry and had no hot spots forming. At some point about 1:15 in, I stopped to pee. I had no qualms about stopping to pee throughout the entire race because I took it as a good sign that my stomach was cooperating and I was drinking enough. The last ~mile of the loop is the same as the first part of the loop so I’d have a chance to see where the leaders were. I was probably about two minutes from finishing my loop when I saw the three guys ahead of me coming back out, so I figured they already had a 5 or so minute advantage. Crazy. As I turned back onto the field I saw Dave running out so he was up by about a minute or two as well.
As I crossed the line and rounded past the aid station, Katie, Scott, and Tyler greeted me. Tyler took my bottle and re-filled it. I complained about my hands, and went to take off my gloves because they felt wet and cold. It was here that I first noticed that my right hand was covered in blood from when I hit the tree. Cool. Scott got my orange gloves, as I figured they’d be a bit warmer. I also took off my long sleeve Brooks shirt, now wearing just a neon green Brooks t-shirt on top of my Brooks ID singlet. I also took off the headlamp but opted to keep the ear warmers at least for another lap. They said I was looking good and that the leaders came through in about 1:25. Tyler said to just run my race and don’t worry about them, I was thinking the same thing. I was happy with where I was at and the effort I had expended so far and I set off. First loop – 1:35:36
I saw some guys coming in as I was going out. I actually don’t remember much of the second loop except that it felt much better than the first. The sun was out now and it was almost like starting a completely different race. My hands were still cold which was annoying but aside from that everything felt strong. I went through the first section quicker than the first lap which didn’t surprise me considering I could SEE where I was going now. I stopped to pee before crossing the water this time and I got to the aid station a minute or two early. Another nice bit of running to the second aid station and as I got through there a guy named Chad caught up with me, as did the two marathon leaders. The guy who would win the marathon went on ahead and out of sight quickly while Chad, the second place guy, and I pretty much stayed together for the rest of the loop. Toward the end of the loop I was feeling good and pulled a little bit ahead of the other two. We had been passing people on their first loop for some time now but it was never an issue. This time the leaders were a bit more strung out instead of the pack that looked so strong when I passed them at the end of my first loop. I got through the s/f and once again, Katie and Tyler sprang expertly to action. I lingered maybe a little bit longer here this time and also took an espresso hammer gel because I realized I was down a gel on this loop. (My strategy was one Gu Roctane and either a regular Gu or a package of Clif shots each loop plus some aid station grazing and water). I switched to my hat and once again was off, now running in 6th place. Second loop – 1:36:39 (3:12:15 cumulative)
As I started the third loop I was beginning to feel the collective fatigue from running so much begin to catch up with me. It never felt daunting that I was only halfway done and still had some 25 miles to run but I was definitely approaching a mental low. As I began the first hilly part of the loop I powerwalked instead of running this time. About now I also noticed my eyes were starting to do the same thing they had done at the 40 mile race – fog up. It was a slow process but now that it was light out, I definitely noticed my vision was getting cloudier, not exactly ideal for running on a trail. At some point before the first aid station I tripped over a root and fell again, my right knee going straight onto a rock. It was split open and bleeding immediately but I was more concerned with any potential damage that had done. After a few exploratory steps I decided it was going to bruise and I was fine. Onward. First aid station and I munched down some pringles and more shot blocks and more waters and continued on. It was here in between the first and second aid stations on the third loop that I hit the lowest point of my race. All of a sudden I was starting to feel sluggish. I remember wondering to myself where the hills I was encountering had been on the previous two loops. I was starting to feel some discomfort in my right ankle from all the times I had landed awkwardly or kicked a rock or root, and the two falls. I still had about twenty miles to go and I was not feeling so great.
And then I came up on a tall, skinny guy in jeans carrying what looked like my jacket in a bundle in his arms. Scott? Yes, my brother was walking along the trail 5 miles in. He looked back and I just kinda waved at him and said go. He became a pseudo-pacer for a mile or two. I was feeling like shit and he was trying to encourage me but it only helped internally, not physically. I took off my hat and gave it to him, hoping the cool air on my head would help too. He had only seen me running at the beginning of races and at the end of Finger Lakes where I won and was feeling pretty good. This was entirely different. Eventually I began to feel a bit better and was running again and I left Scott, thanking him for being where he was. Right before the aid station I took off my t-shirt and handed it to the Yankee-hating volunteer asking her to give it to a tall guy wearing jeans who would likely be coming through in a bit. I asked someone what mile we were at, because at that point I couldn’t do the simple math of 25+7.5, nor did I have the intelligence to look at the sign that SAID what mile we were at. Someone woman said about mile 20 and being so tired I got kinda grumpy with her and said that I was on my third loop. I felt kinda like an ass but we all have our moments. A cup of M&Ms, water, some more Pringles, a pineapple roctane and I was off. It was a bit lonely on the final stretch of this loop. I was realizing that not only was I now not ahead of 6:40 pace but I was falling behind it and a 7 hour finish would be difficult if not impossible. No 50 milers passed me and I didn’t encounter any ahead of me, just people on their previous loop. Those last 5 miles of the third loop felt like they just dragged on and on. It seemed like I was encountering parts of the course that had just been added for this loop. But I was definitely running the same course, just much slower. I didn’t allow myself to think about the fact that I needed to run an additional loop after.
Finally I got back to the part of the trail that I recognized as only being about a mile from the end. I was angry with myself that I basically had to walk up not-terribly-significant uphill near the end. I just kept telling myself to hike with a purpose, not to dawdle. I saw a few of the guys ahead of me, though the ones at the very front had already come through and exchanged some encouragements. I came out to the field and realized just how cloudy my vision had gotten, especially my left eye. I came through the start/finish again and went straight to the aid station. Tyler and Katie were standing there waiting, Tyler now all ready to run as we was going to be pacing me for my last loop. He grabbed my bottle to fill it, Katie handed me the last GUs and I just shoveled some more potato chips and pretzels down my gullet. I was still standing at the table, a bit out of it when I saw a big container of Morton’s salt. Not really thinking I just picked it up, opened the spout, and poured quite a bit into my mouth. Katie and Tyler just kinda looked at me like I was insane. At that point I’d probably have agreed with them. Water bottle back in hand, hands feeling a little better with it warming up slightly, Tyler and I set off on the last loop with me commenting that I don’t know why I did that with the salt but I feel like it was a good decision. Third loop – 1:56:11 (5:08:26 cumulative)
We headed back onto the trail and I was feeling pretty eh. My ankle had really started hurting; each step was a noticeable lightning bolt of pain and the ones where I had a misstep would also result in an audible expletive. The beginning of this loop was probably the slowest I was moving all day. Tyler was doing a good job of being encouraging without accepting. What I mean is he would tell me we were moving well or going strong but he never said it was ok to just walk it in. After only falling once on the first loop and once on the third loop, this loop I was a mess. I was tiring, I could barely see where I was going, and I kept kicking rocks or roots and a few times I went down. The times I didn’t, I stumbled and ran off trail. There was an embarrassing amount of walking here. I also stopped to pee again (still hydrated at least) and then we came to the water crossing for the last time. I barreled right through this time, and it actually felt great because it numbed up my ankle for a few minutes. We reached the first aid station, I downed my last roctane and some more water, some more M&Ms and Pringles. The first woman, who turned out to be the incredible Aliza Lapierre, came in right behind me and kept going but she went to her car off the trail a bit as I continued onward. I knew she’d pass me again as she looked incredibly strong and I felt like crap but I wanted to see how far I could get before it happened.
This new development reinvigorated me a bit and I was actually doing something that probably resembled running. I was feeling better here than I did on the previous loop, and I was moving quicker, or so it felt. I had lost a lot of time in the first few miles from all the walking and falling and I doubted I’d be able to make it up but I wanted to at least not lose MORE. Despite feeling better I was still running off trail in spots, I had to step a bit gingerly when heading downhill because of the ankle, and I kept kicking rocks, 90% of the time with my right foot. Aliza went by me in between aid stations and I don’t remember much else before getting to that last aid station. I DO remember saying out loud that I wanted to run all the way to the aid station, no more walking. Tyler kept reminding me of this and we did it. It wasn’t fast but I didn’t stop to walk. I got in and don’t remember what I did there but I tried to get out quickly. Five more miles, that was all that was left but it seemed so far away still. I started out of the aid station running, trying to get myself to just get through it as fast as I could, the faster I ran, the sooner I’d be done. After what felt like at least a mile later I mentioned that I was now a Fullsteam loop away, that was nothing. I had also run further, distance-wise, than ever before. I was running now, it felt like we were moving at a decent clip but keep in mind that I was also semi-delirious and semi-blind so my perception was certainly skewed (although Tyler mentioned after that the parts where we were actually running felt close to 8:00 pace). About 2ish miles from the end we came across Aliza’s pacer who was walking by herself, apparently the victim of a twisted ankle. Mentally I empathized, but didn’t have the energy to say anything out loud. Fortunately, the entire loop Tyler had been saying things like “good job” and “looking strong” to anyone we passed and I just kept telling myself it was me he was telling that too.
We got to the last noticeable hill on the course and I had no choice but to powerhike up it, moving as fast as I could. Once it leveled out, it was back to a run and now we were on the part of the trail that doubled as the start part, less than one mile to go! I took off my gloves and handed them to Tyler and also cast aside my hand held. I started running hard, I think. At least it felt like the effort increased. 6:40 had come and gone (sometime around the last aid station). Seven hours had come and gone somewhere about two miles ago. But dammit I was going to finish strong. I didn’t bother avoiding the one big puddle right before the end of the trail this time, tromping right through it.
As I turned off the trail to run out to the field, the second best moment of the entire weekend occurred – Ashley was running right toward me, looking very strong, about to head out on the trail for her fourth loop. She screamed and had the biggest smile on her face. I was beaming and so happy, happy to be just about done but also THRILLED to see my best friend running so well. We high-fived and I tried to say kick ass but I don’t think I got the words out intelligibly. And then I was on the field, just a few hundred meters between me and the end of my 50 mile journey. Tyler peeled off to let me run it in by myself and then yelled at me that if I was going to finish on my own, I better sprint it in. So I dug in. With every ounce of energy left in my legs I ran. I could see just enough to avoid running through the girls soccer game going on. I could see the clock behind the basketball courts. I could hear Katie and Scott cheering for me. I pushed and pushed and crossed the line 7 hours, 13 minutes, 10 seconds after I started (final loop — 2:04:44). That was good for 7th overall (6th male) out of 107 finishers. I took another step or two to slow down and then my hands dropped to my knees. I had run 50 miles. The barn had definitely been burnt to the ground. I was done.
The race I had thought about for months was over. The RD handed me a really awesome finisher’s jacket and later a voucher for a free pair of trail shoes – turns out I won the early number pick-up raffle from the day before. The rest of the moments immediately following the race are foggy. (edited to add: Katie reminded me that most of the guys who had finished ahead of me were standing around the finish talking and were nice enough to congratulate me. That felt good. Chad and I briefly talked about the race and the course and I congratulated him on working his way up to 3rd place.) I think I staggered over to the aid station again. The Team Awesome crew met me and there were hugs and congratulations and there was food stuffed in my face and I was drinking (I remember wanting Coca Cola, and pineapple juice, in that order) and then I remember I just had to walk over to the playground and lie down in the mulch. And that’s what I did. I just collapsed on the ground in a heap. It’s all I had energy for. What always amazes me about races (and some hard long runs and workouts) is how your body seems to know exactly how long it needs to hold on for before giving up and usually it is just long enough to be done and not a step further. Standing up to walk to the bathroom a few minutes later felt nearly impossible. The actual walking to the bathroom part felt more difficult than any loop. My ankle felt AWFUL. A few days later, it is definitely sprained but improving considerably each day. Surprisingly I wasn’t OMGSOHUNGRY but I did eat, and drink.
Probably the BEST part of my day, and the entire weekend, occurred a few hours after I finished. My vision was mostly returned. We were all just hanging out waiting for Ashley. We had literally JUST taken bets on when she would come in. It was about 9:50 into the race. The bets ranged from 10:20 (me) to 10:45ish. About half a minute later, we saw a tiny female runner in pink come out onto the field. WHAT?! I moved as quickly as I could toward the finish and seeing her come in at 9:53, a HUGE PR, made me ridiculously happy and proud. I hugged her so hard. Team Awesome had had a remarkable day.
This is long enough as it is. I have a lot of thoughts about the race in general, about what went well and what didn’t go well, about what I learned going forward, about what I want to do going forward, about my Pure Grits (spoiler alert — they’re AWESOME), and, most importantly, about myself. I also have a lot of pictures from the race. All of this I’ll share in a separate post. This one will serve as just the account of what I did, how I did it, and who I did it with. Considering this took longer to write than it took me to run the actual race, I think that’s enough for now.
Til next time, RUN HAPPY everyone!
Entry filed under: Uncategorized. Tags: .