Susan Donnelly

(July 10, 2010.  Kanawha State Forest, outside Charleston, West Virginia)

Summer…Heat…Sunshine…Lazy days

Right around the time everyone at work is getting together for summer fun with extended family at a house at the beach or in the mountains, my extended running family gather for a fun, low-key 50k in the mountains outside Charleston, West Virginia.

It’s worth getting there early in the morning because the reunion starts the moment you drive in the parking lot.  Rob and I pull in next to Dan Lehman (RD for Highland Sky 40 Mile and the upcoming stage race I would love to run) and then talk with Janette Maas, Tom Mueller, Bill Keane, Terri Hayes (RD for Chattooga 50k), and Rosemary Evans.  There are so many Tennessee runners there that a bunch of us pose for a photo.  I still remember all the years Kerry Trammell and I scanned ultra race results, always in vain, to see if there were any other ultrarunners in Tennessee…anybody.  We just about gave up and I never imagined it would change this much.

For years I also looked at this race was tempted but for one reason or another never made it here.  This is the amazing 16th annual Rattlesnake 50k and only my 3rd.  It’s a fantastic place – as a hiker on the course tells me, the forest spans 7000 acres in and around the major city of Charleston, an incredible asset most cities of any size can’t begin to match.  Trail runners dream of having a space like this nearby!  I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner but now that I’m here, I’m ready to play.

Off and Climbing

Dennis Hamrick, the race director, gives a three-count start and the field takes off down the paved park road toward the first trailhead.  I start with Rob near the end of the pack but he’s running with so many friends he doesn’t usually get to see that I decide it’s a good day to let him enjoy the company on his own.  And since he’s resting his Achilles tendons from our 70-miler last weekend in the Smokies and I want some hill work for our upcoming Mont Blanc race, I forge on without him.

We reach the trailhead and the line of runners immediately backs up as everyone funnels down to single file on the steep, slippery climb.  The 31-mile course packs in so many hills that the altitude profile must look like an exceptionally vicious saw blade.  Which of course makes it perfect for hill training.

Runners around me climb silently as they deal with the climb and struggle to breath the humid air.  The bits of sky I can see through the leaves threatens rain and though the stagnant air stifles like a terrarium, we at least don’t have the sunshine heat to contend with.

The first part of the course runs up wooded hills and down through open, grassy areas that connect one trail with another.  The hils tighten hamstrings while the grassy intermissions let us stretch the hams out between climbs.  Trees reach high overhead and almost blot out the sky.  I didn’t bother putting on sunscreen.

By pushing the hills, I eventually catch up with Tom Mueller and further on join up with the Mississippi crew – Randy Saxon, Iva Lightsey, and Lori Ladd.  I’ve run Oak Mountain 50k with Randy a couple of times and love listening to his drawl, it’s so graceful and relaxing compared to Tennessee accents.  It’s great to see them here, but all the way from Mississippi?  Their drive alone qualifies as a ultra!

And since I keep pushing the hills, I end up spending plenty of time by myself but it’s ok.  Kinda nice, really.  All my recent trail time has been with other people so today is much-needed Susan Time.  Time to be outside, unplug, unwind, and let my mind drit.  Kind of a mini summer vacation.  Besides, we’ve had an incredibly rewarding but hectic schedule lately -Scotland, immediately followed by the Appalachian Trail through the Smokies, immediately followed by this.  I need the recharge.

Cresting the top of a hill, I start noticing shots ahead.  Great.  This is probably the third or fourth race in the past year alone where someone has been shooting nearby.  What’s with people?  There a firing range along the course so that must be it, but I have to muster a lot of willpower and faith to run toward the shots, especially when they get louder and staccato-fast.

The aid station at the bottom of the hill is next to the firing range and when I arrive, the shots magically cease.  The volunteers say they didn’t think the range would be open today.  I fill my hand bottle with water and head down the course where it runs alongside the range.  The shooter and his buddy are hanging a new target so I take advantage of the break and put as much distance as I can between me and them.  It wouldn’t take a big slip or bad aim to hit me.

Up the long, gravel road sits one of the unique sights in this race – a control valves for one of the many natural gas pipelines that criss-cross the forest.  I’ve run lots of trails all over the place and these are the only ones where I cross gas lines along the way.  I can’t help but think about where the gas powering my furnace comes from.  This particular station is hissing like it’s leaking, so I give it wide berth for my lungs’ sake.

From here, there’s some dirt road but the course also balances along plenty of narrow, rocky ridge spines, all green and mossy.  Yippee!  This is some of my all-time favorite type running, and hopping the rocks as fast as I can take them leave me grinning.

Spectators?

On one downhill, I find myself running with David Moore as we hit the road into the campground.  I’m thinking of the momentous thing ahead when I notice what almost looks like two people sitting in chairs on the side of the road.  The campground is unusually empty this year, so whoever it is stands out.  Spectators?  For an ultra???

Sure enough, Jordan and Dylan, camping with the family, are watching the exciting, glamorous, fast-paced world of ultramarathoning unfold.  Surprisingly, they really are watching and curious, so I snap a quick photo and tell them they’re going to be famous (well, as famous as I can make them in this blog anyway), which makes Dylan very happy.  I get to talk to them after the race and they’re great kids.  Bright, observant, enthusiastic in a cautious way, and maybe not sure what to make out of a bunch of sweaty (by now pretty grungy) adults running along in front of their campsite.  Meeting them is a pleasure – seeing kids outside and camping like my family used to do when I was a kid and so few seem to do now makes it double.  Those were some of the greatest times I had as a kid and I hope it’s the same for them.  Maybe some future ultrarunners?  Whatever they do in life, I hope it’s all the things that bring them joy as this does for me.

The aid station ahead is the one I’ve been thinking about for the past year – the one where Rob and I helped the runner who passed out (Rattlesnake 50k 2009).  The same runner is here today running half the course, and I’m thankful he’s still running trails and doing fine.  The same aid station volunteer is here too and we hold a brief reunion.  In a neat twist, he says his daughter is now a paramedic, the perfect end to this story.

A group of runners come into the aid station needing attention, so I say goodbye and turn to face the trail.  I want to climb up the hill, without incident this time, and close the book on last for myself.  One deep breath and I go.  As I climb, I look up to the spot where I first saw the runner (conscious) and where we spent so much time trying to revive him.  Then, before I know it, I’m at the top where Rob had yelled for me.  So many times in life you don’t get the satisfaction of reading the last few pages of the book.  Here, I get to do that and know it’s a happy ending.

The rest of the way presents what feels like the toughest climbs of all, which is fine by me, and the big rock outcroppings that are on the photograh in the award that sits on the windowfill above my kitchen sink.  For helping with the downed runner last year, Dennnis gave me the Rosemary Platt Award that he gives in her memory to one runner each year who embodies the spirit of the race.  As Dennis described her to me Rosemary was a local trail runner who, with her husband, was very active in the Charleston area.  She had so much energy and she was always excited about running in the woods and on the trail the he dedicated an award in her name after her death.  The rocks were one of her favorite spots and though I never me her, I stop, feel the energy of the place, and thank her for having such a positive effect on people that she inspired an award.  If any of her spirit comes with the award, it’s more than welcome.

Relearning a Lesson I Should Know

Those long-awaited tasks done, it’s time to head to the finish.  By now, the sweat has totally saturated even my shoes and I’ve been sweating long enough that all my lower leg muscles, including my feet, are starting to cramp.  Drat.  The muscles have a mind of their own and aren’t interested in playing nicely with the other muscles so I can get to the finish line, or even to the next aid station in comfort.  Rattlesnake is the only race this ever happens to me and I kick myself for once again leaving the e-caps in the car while going my best to force the rebelling muscles to work like they’re supposed to until the next aid station.

Unfortunately, the aid station I was expecting wasn’t there this year and the next one sat at least another couple miles away.  I ate a GU on the off-chance it would help and came to an uncomfortable truce with shins, calves, IT bands, and feet.  What a mess.  When I finally reached the aid station, I downed an e-cap and slipped another into the pocket of my water bottle, just in case.  Only a quarter of a mile down the road, I took the other one and the worst of the cramping finally eased.  Oh well, another good learning opportunity.  Let’s just not learn it all over again!

The final miles were blessedly uneventful, just cruising along taking in the sights and smells and sounds along the way.  Interestingly enough, I passed two piles of bear scat through here.  To think there’s enough wildness and room here for bears is somehow reassuring to me too.

And soon enough, I turn the corner to the finish line.  It goes so fast!  While I’m catching by breath, Dennis gives me the 3rd place women’s trophy, a super-nice pottery plate from Kanawha Pottery.  What a nice surprise!

Hanging Out With Friends

Now it’s time to hang out with friends, clean up, and wait for Rob.  I get to talk with Bruce Tanksley, Rick and Tammy Gray, even Dylan and Jordan.  At a lull in the action, I finally take a break to shower up for the ride home, only to miss Rob crossing the finish line.  Thankfully, he forgives me and we wait to watch Janette, Terri, and Diane cross the line.  There’s no rush to get home and we don’t always get to spend time with them, plus it’s fun to be the cheering section.

This is one of those summer days you wish you could bottle up and open on a bad, cold, rainy day.  One of those summer days you wish could go on forever.

Posted: Friday, July 30, 2010, 11:28 am | Tags: Blog | Respond | Trackback