Cold, windy, rainy, foggy, muddy, and a trail that was often more creek than footpath. Every Mount Mitchell Challenge offers some weather-related challenges, this year it gave us all of them. I had gone through somewhat similar conditions last week at the Pilot Mountain Marathon and, since I had good luck with my UltimateDirection waterproof jacket at that race, I elected to use it again today. Unlike at Pilot Mountain, though, I went with my Salomon XA Enduros. I like the Speedcross better for mud but their big lugs aren't happy on pavement and this year, we'd be running up Highway 128 to the summit rather than trail--though even the new "official" challenge course only has a little trail on the way to and from the summit.
Lee Starnes was kind enough to pick up my stuff on Friday so I was able to drive up on race day without the stress of going to packet pickup and--since I parked at the finish--figuring out where to store my shirt and the pint glass they gave us. I got an ideal parking spot at the finish, right where runners come in and turn onto the sandy path around Lake Tomahawk. Well, it wasn't perfect, when the day was over, I did have to solicit help in watching for runners while backed out. I certainly didn't want to be the cause of a DNF with 1/3 mile to go for someone.
Thankfully, the bathrooms at the finish were open first thing in the morning and there was no line. I took advantage, got my stuff together, and headed out to meet Lee at about 6:30. After getting my bib from Lee, we walked down Cherry Street to the start. It was a sea of humanity in various levels of gear yet we knew nobody. Other people we knew were present, we just couldn't find them. It didn't matter though, because by then we had only a few minutes before RD Jay Curwen was sending us up the mountain.
I'm still trying to run a little more conservative early on. This race is one that I've really overrun the first few miles and felt it when we were on the trail. Strava shows my first three mile splits in the low to mid-8 minute range. That's not bad. I was passing people, but that was mostly from starting farther back than I might should have. I had my jacket hood on and found it making a rippling fabric noise in rhythm with my stride. It was a bit like being in a small tent during a windy night. My goal was to stay as dry as I could and avoid any issues with getting a chill later on--specifically up on the mountain--so I'd leave the hood on and deal with the noise.
The last 1/10th of a mile of pavement is a pretty steep climb. There are some, even well behind the leaders, who elect to run this short section but after doing it my first few times at Mount Mitchell, I've since learned that it's pretty pointless and I just fast walked it. Once on the trail, it was a much smaller cluster of runneres around me than I am used to at this race. Basically, there were four of us and even that thinned out within a mile as we each maneuvered into the order we needed to be in.
This first stretch of trail was pretty muddy, but it seemed to go by pretty quickly. I only walked the "steps" sections--the short, steep banks where you walked up some roots and the man-made wooden steps that you descend. A couple guys came by very quickly, one an older guy and one with a European look about him. Oddly, after being ahead of me for maybe 1/2 mile, the older guy had stopped and was standing along the trail. He had a race bib on so I have no idea what had happened.
Considering that the trail had been somewhat sparsely populated around me, the first aid station (Sourwood Gap - about mile 6.5) was pretty busy. I didn't need anything so I just gave them my bib number and continued onward. Despite the rocky and muddy conditions, I was able to run pretty steadily. It was essentially a jog pace, but between the steady climb and the terrain, it was going pretty well. There were even fewer people around me at this point. I made a concerted effort to stay on top of my Tailwind and drink regularly. With the rain, I wasn't likely to feel very thirsty, so I kind of had to make myself drink. It wasn't just for hydration, though I had brought some bars, I hoped to run solely on the Tailwind. Well, that and the two Nutri-grain bars I had in the car on the way to the race. My second bottle had straight water, which I did drink from time to time.
The second aid station (Pot Cove - mile 10.5ish) came quickly as well and I took this as a good sign, hoping it meant the entire day would go by quickly. Like with the first aid station, I didn't need anything here, so I just gave them my number and continued onward.
I was very much by myself on this next section with no one visible ahead of me. I just zoned out and tried, unsuccessfully, to get the theme song from "Up!" out of my head. It's tempo did match my stride, pretty well, though. When I was within a mile of the third aid station, I began to see the lead marathoners heading back toward me from their turnaround. Despite feeling good, I briefly tossed around the idea of cutting it short and turning around with them. I just was not looking forward to the long climb of the pavement to the summit of Mount Mitchell. The trail of the old course was longer, had less traction, and had the same climb, but it just didn't fill me with dread like the all-road route.
Aid station 3 (Parkway Turnaround - mile 13ish) was the first time I reloaded my Tailwind bottle. This was the first year I've run this race with a GPS watch (or any watch for that matter) so I looked and I reached this point in about 2:17. According to the course map, it's about 5.5 miles from here to the summit. I headed out running while I could, knowing that there would be stretches ahead that I'd be walking. I was able to run pretty comfortably until we (I had caught up to another runner) reached the Buncombe Horse Trail and I used it as an off-the-road opportunity to make a quick pit stop. It was harder than I expected to start up running again after that brief stop. I walked a bit and tried to ease back into it. I passed a sign that said the summit was 3.9 miles ahead. Doing the math in my head, that meant at best 40 minutes in this increasing rain and wind. Possibly an hour if I had to walk a lot. I ran more than I expected I would--sometimes using the boost of a strong tailwind to motivate me up an incline I might have ordinarily walked. Strava shows that I was averaging about a 10 minute mile, though the last mile up was a bit slower due to a steeper grade and of course the walk to the summit up the fake-cobblestone path from the parking lot.
Strava says the summit is right at mile 19 and my watch showed I arrived at 3:14. I have always been curious about my splits and this was pretty helpful. Though it did make me start doing the mental math. I kind of wanted to break six hours, would there be time enough to do it? They didn't Sharpie our bibs at the top, but there was someone taking photos. We were given the choice of touching the sign or going up the tower. Given that there was no view and I didn't have my phone to take a picture with, I just touched the sign and headed back down.
I never move as quickly down the mountain as I feel like I should. On this day, that was compounded by the gusting winds that were often a headwind so strong that it negated any benefit of running downhill. I had tightend the draw-cord on my jacket's hood earlier but it had worked its way loose and I couldn't seem to get it retightened. That meant I was often holding my hood on my head with my hand. As slow as it felt like I was moving, Strava says my mile splits ranged from 7:21 to 8:15 over this 5.5 mile stretch between aid stations. I ran it all, until a short stretch of uphill back on the Parkway. I had expected to get passed, having seen how close people were behind me after I turned around, but never did. My watch now said 4:01 and I wondered if I could make the final twelve miles at a 10 minute/mile pace. Had it been just a downhill, I knew I could, but with the rocks and mud, I really wasn't sure. Oh, and I had begun to get chilled.
I couldn't tell if my shirt was wet from rain or sweat, but I had to keep moving to keep the chill from becoming something more serious. The trail down was in much worse condition than it had been on the way up and most of it was either extremely muddy or water was gushing down it like a good-sized creek. There was no ice, but some of the deeper puddles were difficult to gauge in terms of what was at the bottom, so I dodged them as much as possible. The ones I couldn't dodge would sometimes splash water all the way up to my pants--and sometimes onto adjacent marathoners who were also making their way back down the mountain. Aside from the cold, I actually felt pretty good and runnign was not a struggle. My only battle was against the cold that didn't want to abate no matter how hard I moved.
I had refilled the Tailwind at the last aid station so when the Pot Cove aid station came up again, I just kept going. I didn't want to stop for fear of cooling down and I was fine on fluids. I was so motivated to keep moving/keep warm, I even ran up my usual walk hills on the way down. The temperature did not seem to be rising with my descent, so all of my efforts were just to keep things level. Looking at Strava now tells me I was doing ten minute miles through here and I couldn't really have asked for much faster. I certainly didn't want to risk a fall. I knew Lee had turned around at the marathon point since I didn't see him when I came down from the summit, and I actually caught up with him as we both headed toward the Sourwood Gap aid station. I couldn't talk long though and explained that I was getting cold. He concurred.
One of the volunteers at the Sourwood Gap said something like "Food and drink over there or you can just get it done." I told him I'm just going to get it done. This next mile or so is a lot of steep downhill. Somewhere early on, I pulled something in my upper right leg that made it uncomfortable to land that foot. The steeper the downhill, the more it hurt. I was passed by a Challenge runner that I thought was already ahead of me. I guess he was at the Sourwood Gap aid station when I went straight through. Anyway, he had no such issues with the downhill and quickly pulled well ahead.
Once we were in the main part of Montreat and the road leveled out, my leg didn't bother me as much. I was able to maintain a pace in the 9 and 10 minute range but it felt much slower. The trail portions of this last three miles go quickly, mentally, but Flat Creek Road really seems to stretch out, despite being only about 3/4 mile long. I shuffled along, actually passing a Challenge runner on this road. I didn't care if he passed me back later, I just wanted to be done. I had begun feeling the beginnings of a bonk set in and my peripheral vision had a bit of a strobe effect to it. After getting through the short Flat Creek Greenway section, which seemed to have incurred some flood damage, I had expected to walk the short climbs up to Highway 9, and I did. Two volunteers were stopping traffic, which allowed me to get across the pretty-busy road without worrying or getting mowed down. I walked some of the Laurel Circle Drive hill, but then pushed myself into running the rest of the way.
The loop around Lake Tomahawk was in a fog, literally and figuratively, though my head was foggier than the atmosphere. I shuffled along hoping some Challenge runner wouldn't come blasting by me here at the end. When I crossed the wooden footbridge just before the finish, it was the first time I could see the clock. 5:59:30. I wasn't far from the finish, so I figured I could keep this pace and make it in under six hours. But, the clock seemed to be ticking much faster than my stride, so I pushed a little harder, intent on breaking six hours. As I crossed, it read 5:59:50. They asked me if I had gone to the summit. Thankfully, in my fog, I replied that I had and added that they weren't checking off bibs there. I guess they already knew that but they had also asked me the same question about the summit when I went through the Sourwood Gap aid station.
Still cold, I went straight inside and got my finisher's jacket--a graphite grey--and put it on over a dry shirt I had carried in my race pack. Josh Folan was there and I sat and talked with him as I ate a piece of cornbread, I'd grabbed upstairs. After about ten minutes, Lee came in with his wife, Phyllis, and we briefly compared notes. I left shortly after that, cranked the heat and heated seats in the Jeep up, dropped Josh at his car near the start, and then headed home, ready for a long, hot shower. My post-race celebration was not the usual Cookout milkshake, but rather a Special K strawberry protein shake and a big chunk of pound cake, topped off with a little salmon jerky.
This makes my ninth finish of the Challenge. My plan has been to stop with my tenth finish because it is difficult to get into the race and it is time to let others tackle the mountain. If I read correctly, this was the 22nd running of the Challenge, so my thinking is maybe to sit it out a couple years and try to make my tenth and "final" race be on the 25th anniversary. We'll see. It will be difficult not to click "Register" (enter lottery) next Fall when I get the e-mail about the 2020 Mount Mitchell Challenge...
My Strava Report
Mount Mitchell Challenge Results
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