Escape Into the Woods: What Valley??

A valley is a low area between hills. Patapsco Valley 50K was more like the hills surrounding the low area. I know we must have hit that valley at least a few times, but dang, this was a tough race!

Holy elevation, Batman

I convinced a running friend to try her first 50K, and knowing the park as I did (which turns out to be not as well as I thought I did), I thought this might be a pretty tame first ultra. It was definitely an ominous sign when I tripped over the curb in the dark on my way to the bathroom! But there was a bathroom - indoor plumbing, a great pavilion to stash a drop bag, and a nice intimate starting field. At 6 sharp we were off, running through the wet grass under the star studded sky. We went on like that for about 50 yards before we encountered the first hill! Luckily, in the dark and with many runners ahead of us, we were able to carefully pick our way up the hill amidst the rocks and roots. This was repeated for about 75 minutes, until the light started to seep through the trees and we could now see what we were falling over. Loel had some inspired saves as she caught her back foot on a root or rock and while she came dangerously close, did not fall once. I didn't either, although I am not so sure "saving" myself was any better.


this is exactly what I look like when I fall

The course was beautiful. It just doesn't get much better than being in the woods on a cool fall day and knowing that you have 10 hours before anyone is going to come looking for you. And I have to say it was pretty inspiring watching Loel set her sights on completing 31 miles and then using everything she had to do it! We waded through streams, crossed creek beds and railroad tracks, ran across a swinging bridge and beside a waterfall. This course had everything. The aid stations were magnificent, especially the first one with graham crackers coated with thick nutella spread. There was so much to take in that the miles just passed one after the other.

some of the rocks we navigated


the swinging bridge over the Patapsco River

At some point Loel and I got separated, which was good for her, since running ahead I took a wrong turn and ended up following another runner a mile and a half off trail. We should have known something was amiss since I can't imagine any race director cruel enough to take their runners over a mile of small rocks shaped like cylinders, or as I like to call them, "ankle breakers". We could have stopped and fashioned cairns, but decided to keep running.

its this way....no that way...no, this way....

After a while of seeing no ribbons, Butch and I backtracked to find the correct turn that we had missed. (In our defense, we were looking for the double flagging indicating a turn, and saw just one lone ribbon on the gate - and so we went straight - see Coach, I really do pay attention) By now Loel had passed, so I tried to really put the hammer down and catch her. I did, and while she didn't say so, I was pretty sure she hated me.

Her knee was hurting, she had blisters and there were still 4 or 5 miles to go. But she was a trooper. She got patched up at the last aid station with tape for her knee, and soldiered on. But just in case she wanted to be "alone" I left some distance between us! I really wanted to watch her come in and take some pictures. I passed a few other runners in the last three miles, and felt really good all the way to the end. I had enough left to really run down the last hill to the street and then across the field to the finish line. In true ultra style, the finish banner was anchored down with a jug of barbeque sauce. What is not to love about ultras.