Vermont 50-Miler (September 30, 2007)

Race report by Barbara Gorka

SELECTING A RACE

There were two obvious truths that I must have been blind to when I selected this race: 1) Vermont is the prime East Coast ski destination; 2) the Vermont 50-miler begins and ends on a ski slope. For most people, these would be reasons enough to choose a race in a less "vertical" location. I would like to say that I picked this race because I wanted the challenge of a trail 50-miler with almost 9000 feet of elevation change. Alas, the reality is much less heroic and much more stupid: I read the course description for the wrong race!

MILES 1-35

This race is very unique in that both mountain bikers and ultra runners share the same course. A favorite among mountain bikers, it typically fills within 10-15 minutes of on-line registration. So on race morning, some 600 mountain bikers lined up for several waves starting at 6:15, ahead of the 160+ ultra runners, who began at 6:40.

Having run one other 50-miler a year ago and three 50ks this summer, I had an idea of what I was getting myself into. I felt like I could even be so bold as to have a race plan. Last year I fell apart at mile 30, but regained energy and picked up the pace from mile 40-50. So of course, the goal for this year was NOT to fall apart at mile 30. In fact, my plan was that if I felt good at the 35-mile point, I would go for it. The big unknown to me was what running 50 miles mainly on single and double track trails would be like (my race last year was mainly on dirt roads).

The early and mid-miles passed quickly. The mood was light, cheery, and supportive among all the runners, and the scenery was spectacular. We experienced several major climbs, but were always rewarded with great mountaintop views of the valley below and the fall foliage at its most colorful. I saw my ever-so-attentive handler Chris at the 12.5-mile aid station, and he re-supplied me with Gatorade, Clifblocs, gels, and fig newtons. We ran a mile or so together, and then off I went up another hill.

One of the key strategies in ultra running is NEVER to think about how many miles you have left ("20 down, 30 to go" is not a very motivational thought), but to break up the race into smaller distances. For most of us, that means running from aid station to aid station, a tactic that works very well for me since I am motivated by food. This race had well-stocked aid stations every three to six miles, but only three along the 50-mile course had "handler access." This worked well for me because along with the mini-goals of running from aid station to aid station, I ended up with some longer-distance goals of making it to the next "handler access" station in good shape. After 12.5 miles, the next time I'd be seeing Chris was almost a marathon away. That's nothing!

When I saw Chris at the 35-mile aid station, I was in good spirits and was feeling surprisingly strong. I had passed the psychological 30-mile point without even knowing it, and was starting to pass people. As planned, I decided to go for it and see what I could do in the next 15 miles.

MILES 35-50

As it turns out, "going for it" for the last 15 miles was more than my body and my mind could handle. I continued to pass people for the next couple of miles, but began to fade by mile 40. By the aid station at mile 42, I was really suffering. Rather than welcome the down hills, they became my enemy, taunting my quads with every step. I never doubted whether I would finish, but I was letting my mind and the pain get to me. The final eight miles were mainly single and double track trails, and I had to deal with the negative psychological impact of being passed by some of the runners whom I had passed a couple of miles earlier. I saw Chris one last time at mile 47, and that was enough to keep me upbeat for another mile or so. We had both heard the challenge of the finish: the course winds you up the ski slope for 1 miles, and then you descend the ski slope for the final 1 miles. Talking to other handlers, Chris had heard that it took another runner 1 hr 45 minutes to run the last three miles (luckily he didn't tell me this until after I finished). From about one mile away, you can see the finish line at the ski lodge way below and can hear the mountain bikers and other runners partying it up. I knew my time was going to be slower than last year's, and that despite the adrenalin rush, I couldn't make it up in one heroic mile. However, regardless of your level of pain, there is nothing quite like the last mile of an ultra marathon. It is, to summarize, exhilarating, exciting, painful, emotional, satisfying, and both smile- and tear-inducing.

In the end, I finished in 10 hours and 11 minutes, almost an hour and 20 minutes slower than my road 50-miler last year. But one thing I've learned is that you can't compare one ultra marathon to another since the terrain, elevation, and weather can have an incredible impact on your time. Now I'm excited to figure out my next challenge: an even hillier 50-miler, or maybe my first 100-miler?

Also of note, Chris and Barbara ran into Josh Dennis from NJ who runs for the Wanderers in the Off Road Series. Josh said he had run some 50K's this year but was making his first attempt at this distance. Congrats to Josh for completing his 1st 50mile in an impressive 9:42. Watch out - Those wanderers are everywhere.

Event photos

the start in early morning

Josh at mile 12

Babs at mile 35

Duking it out at mile 47.5

Final push to the finish

It's over!

Babs feet after two weeks of recovery

<- go to the last page  |  old news reports (pre 2008) »  |  current news »