Susan Donnelly

The past several weeks’ races – 3 Days of Syllamo (93 miles total) followed by two 100-milers at Umstead and Zumbro – have been all about survival.  Run smart, pace conservatively, then recover as fast as you can using every trick in the book and be ready to toe the next starting line before most people even think about signing up for their next race.

That made Promise Land 50k all the more fun, though it took a few miles to shake the survival mentality.  The race even started like a 100-miler, in the dark (5:40 a.m.) with headlamps, climbing almost 3 miles uphill (in suspiciously warm temps for early dawn).

The course outside Lynchburg, Virginia, in the Blue Ridge Mountains.  Picture if you can a kind of a loopy lollipop with a very short stick.

Once up high at sunrise, the temperature started to rise while the trail itself just rolled pleasantly along past stunning views of the valley, now way below.  Most of this trail was wide and grassy and super-easy to run.

Where the course crossed the Blue Ridge Parkway, it changed to gravel road.  Ugh, with all 100 hard-packed dirt miles of Umstead fresh in mind, I stuck to the softer but slower shoulder of the road while other runners took advantage of what to them was easy running.

Suddenly, the road ended…in nirvana.  Technical downhill trail with just the right assortment and size of rocks to be the most fun thing I’ve run in weeks.  It was only a 50k and I was due some fun, so I finally let go and tossed the conservative pace aside.  I passed a few runners and had the trail all to myself as it descended next to a gushing creek for maybe a mile or more.

At the bottom, we had to run on pavement (there’s always a payback…) but one of the guys from the downhill caught up to me and said I was an excellent technical downhill runner.  That’s someone doing something they love!  The glow lasted just long enough for the course to veer back onto trail.

At the next aid station one of the runners mentioned the killer hill around mile 25 and all three workers nodded knowingly.  Hmm.  We were maybe at mile 23 now…what Killer Hill?!?

Here I should say that it pays to read the course description, especially if you’ve never run it before.  Had it not been for the sudden onslaught of gnats aiming at my eyes, I probably would have spent wasted that gnat-swatting energy wondering (maybe even worrying) about the Killer Hill.  As it was, the heat was starting to pound everyone into submission and the gnats seemed to be taking care of the rest.

It was a relief to pull into the next aid station with an extremely empty water bottle and respite from the gnats.  While I was holding my bottle to get filled with the pink Clif drink, a girl I recognized from another race made some dark joke about three miles of agony coming up.  Oh, really?  ”Oh yeah,” she said, ” it’s incredibly steep.  Horrible.”  Double hmm.

Aid stations can really change your perspective on things.  Despite the looming threat, I headed out full of fluids and PB&J in pleasant shade without gnats tormentors and life seemed pretty darn good.  This was going by so fast!  The day was beautiful (if excessively hot, now in the 80s), and the flowers on this section were incredible – trilliums and iris and bleeding hearts and Dutchman’s breeches galore.  All this while the trail followed a crashing creek that professional landscapers couldn’t have possibly improved.

I guess I was waiting for a sign that said “Welcome to Killer Hill.”  We climbed gradually, then a little more decisively but the epic hand-over-fist never materialized.  It had a spectacular waterfall, probably the biggest I’ve ever seen in an ultra.  It was a respectable hill, but just that.  Glad I hadn’t spent too much time worrying about it.

What was most surprising, though, was passing a lot of runners on the climb.  Most looked like they were suffering in the heat and maybe with the double-whammy of going out too fast.  There was no telling what hangover effect the last two 100s would have but it clearly weren’t affecting my climbing ability.  I felt great.  In fact, this was the best I’d felt all day, really strong.  The hill wasn’t a killer after all. 

At the top, we were back at the stick part of the lollipop, which meant it was time to descend that first climb back down the finish.  So, time for some last fun.  Three or four continuous miles downhill (on lots of hard gravel road…again) and I crossed the finish line feeling pleased with the day.  Looked around at the scenery…didn’t hold back too much…didn’t kill myself.  Just right.  

Like 3 Days of Syllamo, I jumped in the creek afterwards to kick-start the recovery (Miwok 100k is coming up this weekend).  It being a 50k with an absurdly early start, we had plenty of time to left over to get home before dark.

What a fun weekend.  I did more than survive the Killer Hill, I enjoyed it!

Posted: Monday, April 27, 2009, 9:39 pm | Tags: Blog | Respond | Trackback