In late 2022 I decided to try and “up my trail game” by signing up and training for my first 50 mile ultra marathon. My race of choice was the Cloudland Canyon 50 Miler in Cloudland Canyon state park in the upper northwest area of Georgia. Boasting around 8,000 feet of total elevation gain through the race, this was no easy first time ultra, but the course and park are BEAUTIFUL! Below is a race recap that I wrote up not long after race day. Not a lot of information in this particular post, but I’m proud of this accomplishment and…you know…this is completely rando.
Table of Contents
12/3/21 – Friday, day before the race.
Holy crap. I…am…freaking….out.
I took Friday off to pack and go over my checklists again in the morning before we left. We decided to pull the kids out of school at lunchtime on Friday and head down to Cloudland Canyon. We’d lose an hour switching time zones, and I wanted to get settled into the cabin, checked in for the race, and figure out where Wifey and the kids/crew would need to go on Saturday. Man, I was a wreck Friday morning. It really hit me what was coming, at least what I thought was coming as I really had no idea. Then after I packed and was convinced I had everything as prepared as it could be, I was dumb enough to watch a couple of the Billy Yang videos that I love so much. Not ashamed to say I had some tears leaking out at the end of them. I don’t think I’ve been that emotionally imbalanced since puberty.
Thankfully Wifey got home from work and we started the process of packing the car, picking up the kids, and hitting the road. I was still freaking out, but at least I had people to talk to now. Down to the park we headed, about a 2 hour and 15 minute ride from home, and a pretty easy one at that. As we started to get close to the park and I saw the bluffs and canyons we’d be running in, the “oh crap” kicked in again. Too late now though, forward.
I had booked this race early enough that I was able to also rent one of the two bedroom cabins in the park, and man was that a good setup. Really nice cabins, clean, well stocked, fairly private, and a really easy check in/out process. We were very impressed with the park and it’s management throughout the weekend. And the best part was we were only about 3-5 minutes from the start/finish line, which meant more sleep for me. (That’s funny. Like I slept at all the night before.) Anyway after checking in for the cabin on Friday, we headed over to find the Start/Finish line at Group Lodge and pick up my bib for the race. Lucky number 76. Next we made the short 10 minute drive out to the Ascalon Trailhead which would be the aid station for miles 26 and 40 and the only aid station Wifey and girls would have to leave the park for. Finally, we headed back to the cabin to get things laid out for the big day. Wifey brought what she needed to make spaghetti and garlic bread, then off to bed early! As I mentioned before, I’m not sure any actual sleep was had, but at least I was resting.
12/4/21 – RACE DAY!
Race morning started at about 4:45, which with the time change was 3:45 for us so no one was super excited to roll out of bed. We got moving though, got the van loaded up and headed to the start line. As I mentioned before, the cabin was only a few miles away from the start line, so while we did load most everything, the girls were planning on stopping back at the cabin at least once during the day to make up some broth and “re-load.” The start line was pretty straight forward. A few words by the Race Director, an early morning, nervous energy, half-hearted countdown, and away we went!
The first section of the race is a 6 mile lollipop route then back to the first aid station at the start line. The cutoff for this first aid station was an hour and forty five minutes, so I really wasn’t worried. The race director had assured us that we’d get our feet wet in this first stretch, and I planned on being at least 20-30 minutes ahead of the cutoff at the first aid station, so I decided to wear a new pair of socks and my old hole-y pair of speedgoats. (with some sweet duct tape over the hole. They only needed to make it 6 miles after all.) For some stupid reason I decided to wear a long sleeve warmer shirt over my running shirt, and even brought my gloves. So dumb. At home if the temp would’ve been the 50ish degrees like it was at the start line, I never would’ve considered anything other than normal shorts and a t-shirt, but for the race I over-thought things again. So it wasn’t long into the first section before I was sweating like a hog, having way over-dressed. Brilliant. I’m off to a great start.
The whole group set off down the hill on a nice single-track trail in a giant conga line, but quickly slowed WAY down. It was steep, technical, and dark while we dropped down off the ridge to cross the creek and hit the first loop, and combined with the 100ish people having just started, we were absolutely crawling. I looked down at my watch when we hit the two mile mark….39 minutes!! And worse, we were still in big lines with nowhere to go. I realized I had definitely started too far towards the back of the pack because the line of folks I was in was still doing a lot of walking and not much running. I started getting nervous about that first cutoff, but there really wasn’t anywhere to go and it was still dark so passing (which would’ve been difficult enough on that portion of trail) was really tricky. Finally at an hour and fifteen minutes in and still only at the barely 4 mile mark, I made a comment to anyone that would listen that I was getting nervous about the first cutoff. We still had to climb out of the gorge, which wasn’t going to be fast. The guy I had been behind for most of the race so far heard me, and he decided to start making some passing moves. I stayed with him, and pretty soon he and I (and one guy behind us who also stayed with us) were out in the open and able to move. By now we’re at an hour and a half plus, and I’m REALLY getting nervous. By the time we got back to the creek to cross and start climbing out, we got stuck in another line of people with nowhere to go once again. It blew my mind that no one else was worried about the time, we were going to be cutting it really, really close.
Of course, I was even more worried because I had planned for some time at this aid station. (Lesson learned by the way!) After this one I wasn’t going to see my crew again for around 12-13 miles, including one of the big climbs on the course and the climb up the stairs to get out of the gorge. I really wanted to change my shoes and socks, and I needed to get my bladder put in the back of my pack and pick up food for that next stretch of race. Again, thinking I would have plenty of time at the AS, I thought I’d be all super smart and only run with flasks for the first section, then add the extra liquid and weight of the bladder before leaving for the next section.
So needless to say, when I came running into that first aid station at exactly 7:45 (which was the cutoff to have left the aid station) I was not in a good mindset. The kids were excited to see me but I pretty much brushed them off. Wifey was working to get my bladder and some food in my pack as fast as she could, but that wasn’t going well. All the while I’m changing my shoes, dropping my extra shirt and gloves, and pushing her to go faster. (Which I’m sure didn’t help) She was able to get the bladder in my pack (thankfully she’s awesome and already had it filled and ready to go) and we decided to forget about the drinking tube and just get me out of there before they could stop me so off I went! My drinking tube trailing behind me like a tail, all the food I had for the next 12ish miles crammed into one side of my back, and possibly still an extra headlamp jammed in the back. (I never did find out) I ran about a quarter mile out of the aid station and then just stopped at the side of the road to fix the drinking tube and redistribute everything. I was completely flustered at this point, but thankfully the next few miles were on the road so I could push it a bit and make up a little time.
I found out later that the race directors realized they had mis-judged that first cutoff and decided to give an extra 15 minutes at that first cutoff. It certainly wasn’t just me running it close. I think Wifey said even the leaders didn’t come through until there was only around 10-15 minutes left before the cutoff. Either way, I really spent a large portion of the next couple of hours feeling like a jerk for how I acted in that first aid station towards Wifey and the girls. It certainly wasn’t their fault and without them I would’ve never been able to do ANY of this, let alone get out of that first station as fast as I did. Sorry guys. Lesson learned.
Anyway, after all that mess I was on the move again and still in the race. I pretty quickly calmed down and remembered that it was really only the first aid station that I thought might be a little tight, and that I was still in good shape. I caught back up to the guy that I had followed during most of the first section and we started talking. His name was Steven from Montgomery, AL and this was his second 50 miler ever, the first having been a few years earlier. He was in the same boat as me…the only real goal was to finish and he was a little rattled by that first section and being so close to getting stopped already. We ran and talked for a little while, then started talking to a couple of guys from Augusta, GA who were running the race together. One of them had done some training and had gotten as high as a marathon distance in his training, but the other guy said he had never in his life run farther than 16 miles. He was also mentioning how his legs were hurting already from that first stretch. I couldn’t help but think he was in for a looooong day, and I’m sure it was for him, but to give him credit I saw him many times throughout the day and the guy just kept moving. All in all though these conversations really did help to get me back in the game mentally. I had done the work, and even though this was my first one, I felt like I was prepared for this thing.
After a few miles we split off onto the West Rim trail and started to get some of the really great views that Cloudland Canyon State Park has to offer. It was still early in the morning, the sky was clear, and you could see forever. There were some absolutely BEAUTIFUL views. In fact, the views were so constant that after stopping for a few to take video/pics I just had to keep moving through some or I’d never make it off that section of trail.
Shortly after that we started dropping down into the gulch via stairs. Mostly metal with wooden railings, but there were a few natural-ish rock stairs too and those were slippery so we had to be cautious. On this section dropping down and eventually out the mouth of the gulch, there were two out and back sections to see waterfalls. WOW. These were pretty short out and backs but the waterfalls themselves were awesome. These weren’t like little trickles of water dribbling over some rocks 8 feet up. These were large amounts of water running off the rocks 60-70 feet up. It was really cool and definitely brought my mood back up even more. Between the scenery and the company, I was having fun. Another really cool thing about this section (Kudos to the race directors for this one) was that they had one of the official photographers by the first, and biggest, of the two waterfalls for pictures. This was a great idea and ended up with a picture that I would totally pay for, even though they included them for free with the race and I don’t have to. Even better!
After the waterfalls it was a few more miles out the mouth of the gulch to AS #2, Sittons Gulch. This was a no-crew aid station, but it really had a lot of different food and drink options. The volunteers at this race absolutely did a great job all the way through! One thing of note, when heading out of the gulch, the terrain was pretty consistently downhill. This was news to me, and it caught my attention as I knew that we had to come right back in the way we were running and then climb the hundreds of stairs out of the gulch at the end of it. That was already a daunting task, but now knowing we would have to climb three miles of trail just to get to that point was making it worse. Because of this I made a point of trying to run almost all of the stretch out to the AS and turnaround point. The pro here was that by the time I got to the AS I was now 25 minutes ahead of the originally planned cutoffs. The con was that at one point I looked back and realized I had lost my running buddy for the morning, Steven. I would see him again but not until much later in the race. Once I reached the AS/turnaround I refilled my flask, grabbed a couple of orange slices and a lucky pickle, and turned right around and headed back up the gulch. This next stretch was supposed to be the hardest of the race.
Without adding too much drama here, yes….it was hard. The climb itself was hard enough but those stairs were really tough. I put my head down and just went one stair to the next without really stopping and eventually made it to the top. I saw a lot of people stopping and taking breaks on the way up, but that wasn’t for me. Just had to get it done and over with. Once at the top of the stairs we had to climb a little set of switchbacks, which was awesome, (sarcasm) and then we came out onto the paved portion of the West Rim trail again. There were a lot of park visitors up here taking in the views, and I quickly saw why. Once again, WOW. These views were absolutely incredible. I took a bunch of video again, but told myself to remember to make Wifey and the kids stop up here before heading home the next day so they could see it too. (It was cloudy the next day, but even still it was pretty neat)
Another quick mile or so on the paved trail and some single track and we were back at the Start/Finish line (Group Lodge) which was now serving as Aid Station 3. When I arrived I was now a full hour ahead of the planned cutoffs, and feeling MUCH better about everything in general. I had some time banked, was through the hardest part of the course (I thought), felt pretty good, and was getting to see my crew again for the first time since the cutoff debacle at the first aid station. Of course, they were nothing but nice and happy to see me. I apologized to Wifey but she’s the best and told me to forget about it. This time I took probably 5 minutes or so visiting with the crew, changing things out, and stuffing some “real” food into my stomach before heading back out. The next section would be 8 miles to AS #4 at Ascalon Trailhead, which the crew would have to drive to.
I hopped onto the single track leaving the AS pretty quickly and settled into a pretty good rhythm. There was a dude within sight who seemed to be moving pretty consistently at around the same pace as me, but we never really got close enough to talk more than a little bit. Then it hit me. Low spot number one for the race. (maybe two if you count the first aid station thing) I don’t know if it was the food I had crammed in at the last aid station, or the fact that at this point and just due to the way the trail naturally curved around I was almost totally alone for big stretches, or something else, but I did not feel good. Every time I’d start to run my heart rate would shoot up quicker and higher than it should, and my shoulders were killing me. (I assume just from the pack? Never really did find out but I did confirm that I need to get my butt in the weight room. It wasn’t THAT heavy.) So even though this was probably one of the most run-able stretches of trail in the whole race, there I was plodding along at a consistent walk and feeling like crap. Looking back now, I don’t think I ever truly contemplated quitting, and I’m not sure I could quit anyway, but at the time those thoughts started to creep in a little bit. I wasn’t even half way through the race yet and was fading fast. My banked time would be lost quickly (I assumed) because of all the walking and I wasn’t really eating because…well I’m not sure why I wasn’t eating. I just wasn’t. Like I said, I’m not sure if I ever truly contemplated quitting, but I’m not going to lie…it got to the point that I had to remind myself that quitting would mean doing so in front of my family. And that wasn’t happening, so I guess just keep moving forward. Which I did.
I FINALLY got to the Ascalon aid station and can’t even begin to describe how thankful I was that this was a crewed aid station. I needed to see my crew. The kids, as they do at my races, had made up these awesome and funny signs to cheer me on, and were standing at the trailhead waiting for me when I arrived. Wifey was understandably concerned about me after I told her I wasn’t doing so well and it was pretty obvious that I hadn’t eaten much. I’m typically a “beware the chair” guy and won’t sit down at the aid stations unless I’m changing shoes or something, but this time I sat down for a few minutes. I ate a little bit and sipped on some broth that Wifey had brought. After a few minutes allowing me to feel sorry for myself she looked at me and said “Come on, you’ve got to go.” Man, I love her. 🙂 There’s no quitting when your crew believes in you so much and is ready to will you on if they have to. So I stood back up, she got me loaded down with my pack, I downed a couple ibuprofen and a little more broth, and away I went.
A few minutes later my watch alerted me that I got a text from my running buddy back home. I didn’t get to it in time and so didn’t see what it said, but I (correctly, sort of) assumed that Wifey had reported to him that I wasn’t doing well, and he had texted to cheer me on. My running buddy is a great dude. He truly cares about others and wants them to succeed, and because he’s gone through long races like this on his own, (longer than mine, he’s done 100 milers) he understood the low points. Even without seeing the message itself though, it was a boost to hear from him mid race and I knew that he and his wife were pulling for me too. One more reason to keep moving!
The ibuprofen and broth were starting to kick in, and I was starting to come out of my funk. I had left the aid station really close to the same guy I saw when we had left the one before that but hadn’t talked with much on the last stretch. I found out that he had been struggling on that last leg too. This time we started up a conversation and the next thing I knew we were chatting away heading down the trail. To keep this portion of the story short, his name was Don from Oak Ridge, TN and I ended up running the ENTIRE rest of the race with him. 20 plus miles. It was really great to have someone to talk to. Most of my training miles are done with my running buddy, and we’re rarely silent. Looking back I think part of the issue during that low point before Ascalon was partially to do with me getting so deep into my own head. As they say, (and are 100% correct about) these races are probably just as tough, or tougher, mentally than they are physically.
As Don and I chatted, the miles started clicking away. We were currently on the large out and back to/from Lookout Mountain that makes up the second half of the course. We hit the next aid station which was a “no-crew” station that we would hit again on the way back from Lookout, and were pleasantly surprised to find that they had quite a bit of food/beverages to choose from. We had expected a light station with just water and gatorade. I had a very small amount of Coke, filled up my water flask, had another lucky pickle and we headed up towards Lookout.
I knew coming into this that there was a pretty solid climb coming to the turnaround point at the farthest point out of the race, but I guess it never really occurred to me that it was actually up Lookout Mountain, and, uh….that’s a long way up. I should’ve suspected during the pre-race meeting when the race director was telling us that once we got to the top of the actual course, we should take the time to go the last little bit up the stairs because it was the highest point on Lookout Mountain. For some reason that just never registered with me. I was so focused on the gulch and the stairs during the first half, I just never gave much thought to this climb. Derp.
The trail rolled for a little ways again out of the aid station, then we started to climb a little. Then, just to really make sure you wanted to find a big rock and start banging your head on it, we had to drop ALL THE WAY DOWN to the lowest point in the area, and THEN start climbing up Lookout. It was probably half to three quarters of a mile of trail, all uphill and switchbacks, and then it emptied out onto a gravel service road. This is where it got sucky. That fricking road was straight up and went on forever without a single level point on it the entire way. At least twice, you could see the “top” that you were trying to get to, but once you got there you realized it was just the road itself doing a switchback and continuing to go up. At one point, we could see some cell phone towers, and I believe the comment was “surely that’s the highest point, right?”. It wasn’t. By quite a bit. When we FINALLY got to the top, it still wasn’t quite the top, as the race director had indicated. There was another set of 50ish stairs going further up. Couldn’t quit now, right? Up we climbed, then over some boulders and there, THAT was the top. And wow, what a view. No obstructions and almost 2400 feet up in the air at a straight drop off looking over relatively flat land. You could see for a looooong way. Was it worth it? I’m not sure, but I’m glad I at least finished it out and went all the way to the top.
Anyway, back down now, and the service road was so steep it still wasn’t really runnable. Once we got back to trail though it was very runnable and we started cranking along again. Interesting note; we actually noticed a few people who were in the race and that we’d seen all day, but that we knew for a fact didn’t make the climb up the service road. They kept running, and we were by a couple of them when we got back to the next aid station. None of them notified the crew or said anything about cutting it short or stopping, so I can only assume they were just cheating it a little bit. I don’t get it. Yes, it’s hard. And yes, that climb was really hard, especially at that point in the day. But none of us were doing this for anything other than pride, (I assume) so why cheat yourself like that? Who knows, and whatever. But I’m glad I did it.
Back through the no-crew aid station and another 4-5 miles back to Ascalon to see my crew again. That was also the last aid station before the finish line, so suddenly my feet got a little lighter and this whole thing started to seem like it was going to work out after all. I knew I’d still have an hour or two in the dark coming, specifically since I was quite a ways off my intended pace, but I still had tons of time to come in under the cutoff and was getting excited that I was going to do this thing! So nothing special, run, run, run back to Ascalon. We talked to mountain bikers a couple of times. The joke was always asking how much they’d take for their bike, which they all seemed to get a kick out of. At one point we saw these three helmeted kids flying down the mountain bike trails on those single wheel motorized skateboards. That seems a little crazy to me, but they looked like they were having fun. Just keep moving now, we’re headed in the right direction.
We arrived back to Ascalon and, as always, there were the girls watching for me and cheering me on. I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to see them at these aid stations. But here’s where I was completely surprised. I came up off the trail to report at the aid station, and there’s my running buddy from back home! At mile 40 of the race, 2 hours away from home for all of us. He and his wife had come down just to cheer me on and give me a boost. And what a boost it gave me!. I was, and am, truly touched that they had given up their Saturday and driven a couple of hours away just to spend hours at an aid station and later the finish line to see me for a handful of minutes, maximum, and then drive two hours back home. What great people!! And Wifey of course had known all along but kept it a secret from me, and the girls so that it would stay a secret. I had no idea, none at all. Of all the people in my circles; family, friends, etc, not a single person has ever asked if they could come see me or cheer me on at one of these things. But Wifey and the girls wouldn’t be kept away for any reason. They WANT to come and help me on these adventures, and my running buddy and his lovely wife came for no reason other than to support me and then drove 2 hours back home. I’m a blessed man, and I know it. 🙂
Unfortunately I still had 8ish miles to go, but boy there was no stopping me now. I had the best people in the world in my corner, as I always do, and now there was nothing left between me and the finish but some relatively easy trail and some time. Don and I took off again not wanting to linger too long and waste more daylight, and now we were cooking. I think those next couple of miles after that aid station and before it got dark were some of our fastest overall miles of the entire day. 40 miles into the race. It got dark, and we slowed down some, but nothing was stopping us now. With probably 4 or 5 miles to go, now with our headlamps on, we caught up to another woman in the race. It was strange, every time we’d get close and almost be ready to pass her, she’d take off again and leave us behind. Never too far, but enough that we weren’t attempting to pass her again any time soon. Whatever, maybe she was using us as motivation to close out strong. No harm in that, whatever she needs for her mental state. This went on a for a while, and now it was absolutely pitch black in those woods, when we got close to her again and I think one of us cracked a joke or something and tried to talk to her. After a little bit of chit chat, she turned and told us that the reason she kept speeding up is because she was terrified of us passing her and leaving her behind in those woods by herself! We both kind of said “no worries, we’re not in a hurry, we’ll hang with you” and you could just hear the relief in the poor woman’s voice as she thanked us. It definitely slowed us down that last hour-ish, but who cares. We had spent quite a bit of time during the day talking about how the a-number-one goal for this thing all along was just to finish, and nothing else, so it didn’t matter. And to be honest, I didn’t blame the woman at all, it was a little creepy out there. Absolutely 100% dark, no lights coming from really anywhere, no sounds except occasional sticks cracking in the woods and us kicking dried leaves, and occasionally you’d see a tent or two and a campfire off in the distance somewhere. It would’ve creeped me out if I was alone at that point too.
Still moving though, and eventually we got it done. My wonderful crew plus running buddy and his wife were all waiting for me at the finish line. As has become the tradition in these types of races, my youngest daughter was waiting and jumped in beside me to run the last few steps and cross the finish line, which I love. I was on cloud nine. We had done it! And by we I mean my entire crew of folks and I, because this is not a one person thing. There’s no way that I would have even gotten to the race without all the efforts and time sacrifices that my family put in, and my running buddy constantly out there with me for hours at a time and pushing me to get more. Not to mention that Wifey was in training for her own record breaking trail race attempt during the same training months. It didn’t matter, she constantly did what she had to and rearranged her schedule so that I could get in the training that I needed to. She loves me…and I love her! These races are really such a cool thing to do together like this. We’ve done life together, and fairly independent from any outside help or influences, for almost 24 years now, so a little 50 miler is nothing we can’t handle. 🙂
POST RACE
It’s about a week since the race now. Wifey is making final preparations to crush her race in the morning as I finish this up. I was pretty sore for a couple of days, but really not too bad all things considered. I definitely took it easy the entire second half of the race which probably contributed to that, but that’s ok. I enjoyed the experience, and accomplished the goal. Would I do it again? Yes I would. Would I go farther? Maybe. I still don’t feel like I’ve hit my limits, mentally or physically. Family obligations will keep me from attempting anything farther for quite a while, and that’s just fine too. I’m proud of this one, and if this is the longest I ever do, I’ll be ok with that. So, I have no idea what’s next, but I’m sure it will be something. Always another adventure!
