Viaduct Trail 100 Race Report
Okay, the year is ending and the Mayan thing didn't pan out, so I have to
send race reports for the three 100 milers I never wrote up this year.
They are a little late. First is the Viaduct Trail Ultramarathon. I ran
this in July, and it has been so long I had forgotten the official name of
the race until I went to the website.
David Kennedy and Carl Albright direct this small, challenging race in
small-town Northern Pennsylvania. 2012 was the sixth running of the Viaduct
Race. It gets its name from this incredible piece of 19th century can-do
architecture called the Starucca Viaduct that towers over the start-finish
area. The viaduct is really a massive stone railroad bridge built across a
valley. It is 135 feet high and over 1000 feet long. It was built in the
1840s. Pictures don’t do it justice, but I took a bunch anyway because it
was so impressive..
So here’s the story. I came back strong from Three Days of the Fair in
mid-May and had an itch to run a 100 miler or maybe a journey run across
Connecticut in the summer. I discussed it with my wife. (She is just
fantastic, completely supportive of my running endeavors. In return, I try
not to make running too dislocating of my family’s agenda. I am mindful
that the world is not sitting around waiting for me to finish my run so
that we can do things.) She suggested I look into Vermont (closed up
tight). Then I saw on the List that Tracy (a/k/a Tray) Vroeginday was
running the Viaduct. From the recesses of my memory, I recalled a race
report from Dave Bursler, who I think won it one year. I emailed the RDs
and they let me in. The price: zero dollars, but with a recommendation
that we make a donation to the Northeast Pennsylvania rail trails. I was
pretty psyched to explore a new 100 miler, but there was a catch: the race
was July 7-8, the last weekend of the week I spend with my family at the
New Jersey Shore. I discussed it with my wife again. I told her that I was
fine with dropping from the race, but I would want to run across
Connecticut sometime in July. Something about the idea of a journey run
makes her uneasy, so she said I should just do the Viaduct, but I had mixed
feelings about the dislocation of the leisurely week at the shore. It’s
not that my wife would be burdened with childcare. The shore house would
be full of her family: her parents, sister, nephews, etc. It was really
the “us” vacation time that would suffer a little. So I made a compromise:
I would run the race, but would do everything else that week as if I had
nothing planned on the weekend. I decided to leave for the race on Friday
night pretty late, after enjoying the whole week at the beach.
So, I found myself at about 10:30 Friday night, after a long day at Six
Flags water park, at a convenience store buying provisions and coffee for a
three-hour drive to Lanesboro, PA and then a 100 mile effort. It was a
warm evening, and it was going to be a steamy weekend in the hills of
Northeastern PA. I had a cooler, a six pack of root beer, two Mountain
Dews. A bag of Fritos, some pretzels, some Oreos and two pb&j sandwiches.
That seemed like enough.
I set off with a general idea where I was going. I drove across New Jersey
and into Pennsylvania. As I turned north, there were fewer and fewer
lights along the highway and more and more hills. Sometime past midnight,
I passed the exit for the Anthracite Museum, a tribute to the hard, hot
burning coal that was responsible for much of the economic activity in this
region in the 19th and early 20th century. Somewhere north of Scranton and
not yet to the Binghamton, New York, I found the exit and followed a
winding state route to Lanesboro. Then I followed directions to the
viaduct itself. It towered over the quiet sleeping valley. I was amazed.
But I was also a little lost, as I could not find the park that was the
start-finish. I kept driving around this few-block area, but I was at a
loss, and I was wiped. It was almost 2 a.m. Finally, I saw a runner from
the 200 mile race that was in progress. He or she shuffled up the same
dirt road I was driving around, past the same quiet house I was driving
past, but then took a right down what looked like a driveway. I followed
and it opened up to thae park, which was a field covered with cars. I
parked and put the seat back. It was 2:00 and the race started at 5:00. I
set my alarm for 4:15 and closed my eyes. A few minutes later, a train
passed by up on the viaduct. That was cool. Here was this 170 year-old
stone bridge, and it was still used by trains.
I lay in the car and thought about the great and relaxing vacation week I
had just had, about my desire to run 100 miles, about the ill-advised
approach to starting a 100 with little or no sleep the night before. I
drifted into a light sleep and soon my watch was beeping. I got up and
prepared to run. It was still warm and humid, short sleeve weather. I put
on lube to avoid chafing, compression shorts, running shorts, leg
compression sleeves (mostly because they feel good and keep the sun off my
legs), gaiters, socks, road shoes. I put some Fritos and Oreos in baggies
in my pockets and filled one handheld with water. I sipped a little cold
coffee to wake up. I couldn't let myself think about how bone tired I was
when I had so much ahead of me.
There was a short race briefing about logistics, and we were off. The best
advice was to think like a train. After a short run through the Town of
Lanesboro and up a hill, we turned onto the rail trail and stayed on it to
the turnaround. The race course was a 25 mile out-and-back, which we of
course had to run 4 times. We crossed some roads and ran parallel to
others, but the key to staying on course was to avoid sharp turns or turns
up steep hills. Trains make sweeping turns and climb steady gradual hills,
so following the trail called for common sense.
Some of the front runners missed the first turn onto the trail and had to
double back, but soon everyone was heading in the right direction on the
rail trail. At first we went generally downhill then over an ancient
rotting rail bridge, with plywood covering some of the holes. Then we
started to gradually climb. Most of the rest of the out portion was uphill
and then the back was downhill. The rail trail was all unimproved, meaning
it was still covered with the large gravel that you see along operating
rail lines. It was hard on the feet, and I understood why the website
recommended trail shoes. A rock plate would have helped at this point. In
two places along the trail, you have to descend into little valleys across
which there used to be rail bridges. The first is a field like a big bowl;
the second a gulley that makes you go down a steep uneven trail to the
bottom where you cross a road and head back up. At the descent off the
rail bed, about 10.5 miles out from the start finish, is the official aid
station. I say official because about halfway out is the unofficial aid
station provisioned and handled by Vicky Wargo (wife of Bob, who was
running the 100), who, along with some other helpers was there for the
whole race handing out water, soda, and various treats like cookies or
pretzels. This was a life saver.
This is a small race and has a friendly, informal feel. There were only
about 65 runners between the 50, 100 and 200 mile distances. I ran mostly
by myself the first out and back. The sun was out and the heat rose. It
promised to be a 90+ degree day with plenty of humidity. I finished the
first lap in about 5 ½ hours and got some food and beverage at the back of
my car. I thought about the logistics. I would only see the car about
every 6-7 hours, so I had to keep some food in my pockets. I ate part of a
pb&j sandwich. I wanted to leave feeling a bit full because I wouldn’t eat
for a long time. Out of the aid station, I ran into and along with Vinnie,
whom I had met at Umstead. We talked about a lot of things. It was just
after noon but thunder was rumbling through the valleys. Soon it started
to rain, and the rain was steady. A few minutes before I had been hot, and
now I felt a chill, with my wet shirt clinging to me. Just as this started
to annoy and concern me, the rain let up. I felt better. On we went. On
this lap I also meet Ali from Michigan. We talked some and the miles
melted away.
On the second half of the second lap I ran into Bob and Gary from Three
Days of the Fair. We walked and ran together and I stayed with them to the
start-finish. Bob was finishing up the 50 miler and Gary was pacing him
for a few miles. It was nice to catch up with ultra friends.
Back at the start-finish, I ate a sandwich and thought again about the
logistics. I was over 13 hours in and had 50 miles to go. My feet were
really sore from the gravel. I would only see the car one more time before
the finish, and it would be late at night. I decided to change shoes and
socks and put on a pair of trail shoes. I got out a headlamp and
flashlight. I ate a little extra. I set off. As I was leaving the start
finish area, I ran into Emmy, whom I have known for years. She was on her
way out to bring food to Tray. She was running with a Wendy’s bag, and she
was uncertain as to the trail. I guided her up the hill and onto the
trail. She was going to run ahead to find Tray, but then she realized she
had forgotten her headlamp. I had a headlamp and back-up flashlight with
me, so I gave her the headlamp. I told her to either give it back in the
morning or leave it with the RD. She disappeared down the trail, Wendy’s
bag swinging. I cruised along through the evening light. As the food
digested I started to feel better and I sped up. I had hoped to reach the
turnaround by about 9:30-10:00, but that had slipped away. Now that the 50
milers were done, the trail seemed almost empty. Eventually I saw people
up ahead and I caught them. It was Emmy and Tray. This was about mile 60,
and Tray was fading a bit. She had started off fast and had moved well
throughout the day, but the mileage and darkness were catching up to her.
She was thinking of dropping. I tried to counsel her as Emmy had to keep
moving and feel the energy return by mile 80 or so. But 80 was impossibly
far away at this point, and she couldn’t imagine feeling better. This was
her first attempt at 100 miles, and she had yet to feel the return of
energy after feeling incredibly low. I moved on ahead past the aid station
toward the turnaround. It was Saturday night and there was a major
fireworks show on the hillside to the left of the trail. The organizers
must have been firing the ordnance toward the trail, because the noise was
deafening and the smoke heavy and acrid. I reached the turnaround and
checked my watch: 10:46 – 17:46 into the race and still three-eighths
left. I headed back down toward the aid station passing Bob Wargo and Tray
and Emmy.
By the time I had trudged the 12.5 miles back to the s/f, it was after 2:00
a.m. I was wiped, having already missed the previous night’s sleep. I ate
and drank and filled the handheld and headed back out. This last outbound
leg was probably my slowest, as I fought sleepiness and fatigue as well as
sore, blistered feet. I couldn't wait to be done, but I had a long way to
go. Dawn broke and I woke up a little. I was walking/ shuffling with Ali
for a while, but he had more energy than I did and I let him go ahead.
Just after the turnaround, Bob Wargo caught and passed me. I was walking
along thinking all I had to do was cover 12.5 more miles to finish this
thing. The trail was pretty quiet in the early morning. As I went along,
I tried to pick up the pace a little and started a shuffling jog again. I
saw one of the RD’s at a road crossing. He said Bob was up ahead, but I
was moving faster than he was and would probably catch him. Eventually I
did catch Bob with about 3 miles to go. We walked along together and
talked. Neither of us had much energy to go faster. And we walked it all
the way in and finished together in 29:23. Carl gave me my railroad spike
award, and we talked about ultras a bit.
Then I went back to my car and called my wife to tell her I had finished.
It was about 10:45 a.m. I had had two hours sleep in the last two nights,
and I was about a 3 hour drive from the New Jersey Shore. She told me she
had already arranged for her parents to drop her and the kids off at our
house in Connecticut, so I should nap and then just drive home.
I acquiesced, but I had to drive some of the way first. That was a
mistake. I could barely stay awake behind the wheel. I found a rest area
and slept for about an hour. I awoke feeling better and drove home where
the family met me about 2 hours later.
As I look back on the race, I can say I was too tired, but I was in good
shape. This was a challenging race with a rocky uneven surface that beats
up your feet. The countryside is nice and the viaduct is amazing. The
RD’s are great guys, very supportive. I would recommend the race to
anyone, but it’s probably not the best first 100 miler.
But really as I look back, I think I should not have done it. I should
have figured out a way to burn off my ultra energy without having an impact
on the family vacation. Running ultimately is a solitary, self-oriented
pursuit. I should work harder to be mindful of what is important and what
just isn't. So, it was an enjoyable, challenging, positive experience that
I probably should never have had if I had been more self-aware. I could
have gone for a nice long run Saturday morning, then played on the beach
with the kids all afternoon. My wife wasn't mad or anything. She gets my
love of running – all the more reason I should strive for better balance.
I’d like to think I’m not too old to learn.