In 1996, I posted a race report from my first JFK finish on the Dead Runner Society Ultra List. Jeff Reed took the posting and saved it to a permanent site at http://www.oocities.org/madeads/vic_jfk.html. In 2015, I extracted the race report to my personal computer. Below are my writings from 1996. I’m not sure which site will exist longer, oocities.org or slowoldrunner.com.
SHORT VERSION RACE RECAP:
My goals: break 9 hours and finish in the top 100. My results were: 8:23:19, 93rd overall, running the mountains 10 minutes faster than my goal, the C&O Canal 10 minutes faster than my goal, and the last 8.3 miles 10 minutes faster than my goal. I’m very happy.
LONG VERSION:
I took off the entire week leading up to JFK from getting up at 4 am and commuting my three days into Washington. I worked out of my house and got 8 hours of sleep each night. Also, I avoided sick people. My handler, Chris Campbell, was not as fortunate. He had to work. So, we left Fredericksburg at 4 pm on Friday after he got off work.
We cut it close. We got to Hagerstown at 6:30 pm, checked into our motel, and got to packet pick up ten minutes before it closed. Fortunately, we could get a copy of the crew instructions and plan Saturday’s run on Friday night. I had two plates of spaghetti at the pasta feed and heard a few inspirational words from the gathered crowd and presenters.
I got back to my hotel and went about fixing my fluid, sodium, and calorie strategy for the next day. I got to bed around 10 pm and made my usual three bathroom calls in the middle of the night. 4 am came early, and by 5 am, the hotel was already bustling with anticipation.
We left for the start at 5:30 am and were surprised at the number already gathered at 5:50 am when we got to Boonsboro. The temperature was 27 degrees when we left Hagerstown, and the forecast called for low 40s and sunny. Now the question, do I start in tights or shorts? My handler’s recommendation, shorts. Of course, he’ll run in shorts below 20 degrees. So in the next hour, there was time to stretch, make three bathroom calls, grease up, and put on my shorts, socks, and shoes. Fortunately, we had access to the school and a warm area to change.
At 6:45, we went back out to the car to get the double bottle fanny pack, eat a last-minute banana, take a last drink of water and apply a little more Vaseline. My choice of clothing included long sleeve CoolMax shirt and CoolMax singlet, neck gaiter, knit hat, and shorts. As we heard RD Mike Spinnler call 5 minutes to start, I have time for one last bathroom break and a jog with Chris to the start. I took off my sweats, thanked Chris for the help, and moved into the crowd.
The race starts on a football practice field, and the start area is about 50 yards wide. Even with 800 runners, nobody is more than 10 yards behind the starting line. The gun fires, and we’re off across the field and onto the main drag leading through Boonsboro. I want to get to the AT (3 miles) in 30 minutes and will walk the steep uphill on US 40. I look at my watch on the first-mile split, 8:02, a little fast.
As we move further through town, the bank thermometer read 23 degrees, and I’m in shorts! Oh well. As the road gets steeper, I start walking and maintain my position, even though almost everybody is still running. Get to the AT at 28:30, and I’m pleased.
My next goal was to reach Crampton Gap (9.7 miles) in a total time of 1:50. I run most of the first part of the trail at a comfortable pace and walk all the uphills on the fire road. By this time, most of the others around me realize that walking might be better for them up these hills. Back on the AT, I could run comfortably, not slowed down, passed when needed, and picked my spots where I could run hard. I get to Crampton at 1:35, and I’m pleased. I changed bottles, retied my shoe (@$#%@$ cord shoelaces), and I’m off and running to Weverton.
My next goal was to reach Weverton (15.3 miles) and the end of the AT in a total time of 3 hours. What my time off the AT was would determine my pace for the C&O path. The pack is spread out by this time, and I can run at my speed, walking the uphills and moving comfortably on the remaining sections. Around the 12-mile mark, a high school girl (later found to be 16 years old, 2022 update: Liz Wood) passes me. While in front of me, she must have tripped six times but never did a face plant. Also, she enjoyed wearing cotton, as she had last year’s race shirt on top of this year’s race shirt and sweat pants. I repassed her around 14 miles and hoped that she would be OK. (She was and went on to set a new 19 & under course record of 8:56). The conga line started to form when we got to the cliff switchbacks. Just what I wanted to do, was rest while going downhill. Oh well. Get off the AT at 2:49, meet Chris, change to a single bottle fanny pack, change out of my trail shoes to my Air Max, and I am off to the C&O Canal trail.
Great work by the race organizers got me across route 340 safely and across the railroad tracks. A long freight train passes me about 5 minutes after I cross the railroad tracks, moving toward the crossing. And, it was slowing. I would say that this train stopped runners for at least 5 minutes. Just before reaching Harpers Ferry, another freight was moving toward the crossing. Just what every race needs, a train story.
Based on the 2:49 split, I decided to try and maintain a 9-minute pace on the C&O path. I set my watch to cover two miles every 18 minutes and use any extra time to walk and recover. My original goal was to finish the towpath (41.9 miles) by 7:20. The 9-minute pace would lead me to a sub-8-hour finish, far faster than my initial goal. By about mile 23, I realize that I’m having difficulty maintaining my 9-minute pace and setting my sight back on my original 10-minute pace. Chris is constantly helping at each aid station, switching bottles and giving me my pre-packed food (bagels, pretzels, and cookies).
After the race, I heard the aid stations were pretty well stocked, but I ran through them and never took anything. At about mile 27, I ran into my first hard spot of the race. The legs ached, my pace slowed, and I wasn’t getting enough walking breaks. Chris changed my bottles and said he could run along with me a little as I packed my fanny pack. My response was, “you might be able to, but I can’t.” Shortly after that, the 10-minute pace helped. I was starting to recover, and my walking breaks were up to 5 minutes every two miles, but I still was maintaining 10 minute pace.
By the 30-mile aid station, I felt much better, even though I had a hard time swallowing my food. At 30, Chris tells me for the first time, you’re running well, your form is not breaking, and you are near the top 100. What a great lift that was. At 34, the recorder calls off my number and says 103rd. I run through the aid station and pass four people immediately. WOW.
By 38, I tell Chris no more food. It will have to be Gatorade until the finish for calories and sodium. Hopefully, I sucked enough salt off the pretzels in the first 34 miles. I finally heard the spillway of DAM number 4, and I knew the towpath was ending. I reach the end at 6:59, and I’m pleased. The hill off the towpath looks steeper than during practice, and I walk a third of a mile to the top. The RFP stuff works.
My final goal was to finish in 9 hours or run the last 8.3 miles in 100 minutes. I think I can do that. And on this day, it was now, run the last 8 miles in 2 hours. I had a great working cushion. I meet Chris at 43 and change into a lighter weight (9oz vs. 14 oz) road shoe. What a difference they make. I was glad that my feet didn’t swell and that these shoes still fit. I’m off and running, maintaining my 10-minute pace. However, instead of walking every 2 miles, I walk 160 paces every one mile. My walking form is starting to break. I know I am tired.
By mile 47, I know I’m going to finish. It’s hard to hold back a tear or two. It reminded me of mile 23 in my first good marathon. You know you’re not going to bonk, and you try to enjoy the accomplishment. I labor over the last miles, clicking my watch at the one mile to go sign. Walk a few steps, and it’s the run to the finish.
I crest the last hill and can see the finish line about a half-mile ahead. I have a little kick at the end and run the last mile in 9:40.
The last six miles are said to be the hardest in a marathon. Contrary, the final 6 miles of a 50 miler are comparatively easier. You’ve already run 44. What’s six more. You’re almost home. In my first marathon, my last six miles took 72 minutes. In my first 50 miler, my last six miles took 58 minutes. I ran the same pace for my first marathon as I did my first 50 miler. Maybe, training makes a difference.
The post-race festivities were grand. I hadn’t had Twinkies since the Richmond Marathon in 1994, that scrumptious cream filling. Unfortunately, the warm showers were turning cold quickly. So, I wasn’t able to wash up much. Chris was able to run for an hour while I recovered. Over half of the field was still on the course as we left Williamsport, their reflective vests and flashlights moving toward the finish. We stopped and scarfed some pizza on the way home.
It’s been fun being part of the Ultra list. I’ve enjoyed all of the insight. Next year will be a year of short speed, as I try to break 40 minutes for a 10K and 60 seconds for a quarter-mile. Will I run another Ultra? Maybe. I was thinking of coming back to JFK next year as a walk. Do your legs still ache when you take 13 hours rather than 8? (2022 update: yes, they do.)
Well, I’m off for a 30-minute run. I got to keep the blood pumping and the lactic acid flowing out. I’ll see if I can get 3 miles in today.