Mohican Trail 100

Mohican Trail 100, June 21 – 22, 2008

Decision to run

It was December of 2007, and as an alumnus of Wright State University, I was enjoying a basketball game. During a time out, several individuals began walking up the steps towards the main concourse when I spotted a t-shirt. It was a Mohican Trail 100 mile race t-shirt. My first thoughts were, “What the hell is that and why would anyone want to do it?” Initially I had a problem grasping the concept of a 100 mile run, but quickly my confusion gave way to curiosity. After some quick research that evening, I decided that this was something that I had to do. That’s how my path to Mohican began.

Training

Training started somewhat promptly. Considering I had not yet run a marathon, it was probably a little premature to begin the planning stage for how I would run a 100 mile race 6 months away. I decided that my first step was to continue my original goal of running a marathon. I didn’t have too many options for marathons given the timeframe I had set, so I settled for the Last Chance for Boston Marathon in Columbus, OH on February 17, 2008. It is a one mile flat loop course in a business district. Not exactly exciting, but it is certainly predictable with the added bonus of an aid station every mile.

After a successful first marathon (3:49), I began training for my second marathon, which was just one month after Columbus. This was the Ohio River Road Runner’s Club Marathon in Xenia, OH. I improved my PR (3:41) and more important, I felt a great deal of confidence to begin increasing distance. About a month later, I ran my first 50K. Being only my second trail race, I was immediately intrigued not just by the distance which I found comfortable, but the scenery, serenity, and the much improved temperament and attitude of the runners. I noticed a major shift from an attitude of competition at all costs to “let’s have fun and try to all finish.” I’m not against competition. If I’m approaching the finish line and you are ahead of me, I will do everything I can to beat you. But the camaraderie was refreshing,

After my first 50K, I officially signed up for Mohican. My nerves really hadn’t kicked in yet, and all was still calm. Training was proceeding to plan, and my final long run/race was two weeks from the Mohican start. The Another Dam 50K run in Englewood, OH would be my final test before Mohican.

I always make an attempt to run in adverse conditions, including snow, sleet, rain, and whatever else Mother Nature can throw out. One of the best training days leading up to Mohican was after a severe drencher of a storm blew through the area. I quickly made my way to my regular short-course (3 mile trail loop) and proceeded. As expected, the streams at the trail crossings were overflowing. A good 5 to 10% of the trails were also under up to two foot of water as the main creek had run over its banks. It was a great test for my sock/shoe strategy; eighteen miles with drenched feet and no blisters. Rock on.

One of the areas that concerned me the most was nutrition. I wasn’t sure exactly how I would address eating and electrolytes. Beyond the obvious physical training involved, this has to be the most important aspect of endurance running, and I was a little lost. I grew accustomed to eating while running, but I was more concerned with getting sick of eating the same thing over and over, or what to do with a sour stomach.

Mohican 100 - The Race

Having not camped in over a decade, I had a lot of things on my mind when I reached the Mohican Wilderness Campground. Check in was a breeze, I found my camp site, and my tent went together quick. Race check in was simple and the pasta dinner perfect. So far so good, but this was all the easy part, right?

My alarm went off at 3:45AM. I went through my standard routine of preparing my feet, lubing up other body parts, and getting dressed. I didn’t feel hungry this morning. Things felt different about this race. Obviously the distance weighed heavily on my conscience, and I still had yet to comprehend the 100 mile distance.

When considering entering the 100 mile event, I thought about attempting a more realistic 50 miles. However, I thought that if I had finished the 50, I would have felt that I had short changed myself; that I should have tried the 100 mile race in the first place. The 50K distance was challenging, but I never felt really pushed. I thought that if it was my purpose to ultimately challenge myself that I needed to attempt the full 100 miles. It would be the only way for me to gain an understanding and respect for the distance.

Around 4:15 AM I made my way to the race headquarters in the pavilion. I signed in, grabbed a cup of coffee, then began stretching. About 5 minutes before race time, I joined several other runners on their way to the start line. It was 4:55 AM. It was at this very moment that I finally had a realization of what it was that I was about to attempt. It was the quintessential “Oh sh*t” moment. Never in my life had I uttered those words with such perfect timing and accuracy. To be frank, for the first time before a race, I was scared.

My nerves quickly subsided as the race started. It was a dark, crisp early summer morning. The air was clean, my feet felt great, and running alongside other like-minded individuals gave me an early sense of pride and accomplishment. I knew this would be the best I would feel all day.

Station 1: Landoll’s Castle, Mile 4.9

The first 5 miles of the race were nice and easy, trading between a slow jog on the downhills and a brisk walk up the rolling back roads leading to the Mohican State Park. At the first station, I refilled my water bottle and continued on in great anticipation of the trails.

Station 2: Rock Point, Mile 10

At Rock Point, everything was still working great. My pace was a little quick (which it always is in every race) so I knew I was going to have to control that at some point, preferable as soon as possible. I grabbed a little bit of a peanut butter sandwich, filled the water tanks, and moved along.

Station 3: South Park, Mile 14.3

The first leg of the green trail went very well. I felt strong although my pace was still too quick. It is at this point that I knew that I would be in trouble later on, but I was having so much fun that I decided to not pay it much mind. Gimme PBJ and water.

Station 4: Fire Tower, Mile 18.6

I still felt strong, so I made the stop quick. I filled the tanks and kept moving. There’s only 2.5 miles to the Covered Bridge aid station.

Station 5: Covered Bridge, Mile 21.1

This was my first time through the covered bridge, and it is where I stowed my main drop bag. My original plan was to switch socks here. But because everything was feeling so well and my feet were still dry, I skipped the change. Since my longest race to date was 31 miles, I didn’t have any experience from which to draw. A lot of my drop bag plan was essentially pulled out of a hat. I filled the tanks and crossed the bridge to start the Orange Trail.

Station 6: Hickory Ridge, Mile 26.3

Hickory ridge is where I started feeling a little worn. Although nothing was hurting too bad, I was just feeling the normal wear and tear that I expected at this stage in the race. The positives at this point were that I had no blisters and the few missteps I had taken on the Orange Trail so far left no lasting pains in my ankles or toes.

Station 7: Pine Run Grist Mill, Mile 33.1

The extra running back and forth across the parking lot, then on the highway was a little confusing. I guess after being corralled by the trails and woods for so long, I was somewhat disoriented. My secondary drop bag was located here, and I completed a sock change, reapplied lubrication, got a little to eat, and refilled my water. After 6.8 miles without a stop, this station was most welcome, and I felt very refreshed as I left.

Station 8: Covered Bridge, Mile 38.3

I began to doubt myself on the stretch of trail leading up to the Covered Bridge. There were lots of rocks, roots, and dodging. My main concern was with how I would navigate this section after night fall. At the end of the orange loop lay the Mohican River, and my feet and knees felt great bathed in the cool rushing waters of the river. After finishing the crossing I changed socks and shoes and set out on the Purple Trail.

Station 9: Covered Bridge, Mile 42.3

The Purple loop was the beginning of the end for me. It was a more technical part of the trail with quite a bit of elevation change given it’s short distance. The worst part was the slow walk up the never-ending long curved road. But it was a very scenic part of the race, being both enjoyable and exhausting. After completing the Purple loop, I spent a little more time at the Covered Bridge recuperating.

Station 10: Bridle Staging Area, Mile 45

The red loop was somewhat of a blur. I was running further than I had ever run before, in training or at a race, and I was having difficulty focusing. Dropping out had not become a possibility yet, but I was certainly starting to feel fatigued. One of the more disappointing parts of the race was when several rather rude mountain bikers screamed through without announcing themselves. They seemed somewhat peeved that I dare set foot on their precious trails. I trudged through the Bridle Staging area, stopping only long enough to grab a sandwich and fill my bottles.

Station 11: Rock Point, Mile 52.2

My second time to Rock Point, I decided to take a moment and evaluated my situation. I felt relatively strong, my feet were blister free, and I had a renewed sense of confidence having passed the 50 mile point. I knew things wouldn’t be good for long. I noticed the looks on other runners’ faces. Fatigue and pain were starting to set in everyone.

Station 12: South Park, Mile 56.5

I began feeling that things were changing for the worse. My feet began aching and my legs started to get a little jellied, but I still felt relatively OK. I was expending a lot of energy on keeping my focus.

Station 13: Fire Tower, Mile 60.8

Quite quickly, conditions deteriorated. As I was walking up a rather long hill, it began to storm, with wind, rain, thunder, and small hail. I had completed a lot of training in the rain, in the cold, and in other adverse conditions, but never after having run 55+ miles. I began to feel cold and nauseous. When I reached the Fire Tower checkpoint, I took about 20 minutes to regain some body heat, eat some soup, and get my head straight. I really considered dropping out here, but I convinced myself to do everything physically possible to continue forward the 2.5 miles to the Covered Bridge where I had my main drop bag. For all the training I had completed, for the time and effort expended so far that day, I thought I owed it to myself to go one more checkpoint. I moved forward.

Station 14: Covered Bridge, Mile 63.3

I reached the Covered Bridge after an hour of walking through rain and mud, shivering in the cold. It was beginning to get dark, and I made my decision to drop out. I couldn’t think very straight, and my throat had tightened to the point that I couldn’t swallow solid food.

I had run twice as far as I have ever run before, I seemed to be physically intact, and more importantly, I had learned a great deal about myself and about my limits. Although I didn’t finish the race, I held as a minor victory the last 2.5 miles. It was a grueling hour long walk through the rain chilled and mud covered trails.

Sure, the goal was to finish the 100 miles. But upon further reflection, my underlying goal was to test my limits. In my short racing career, where in 9 months I grew from running my first race (a ½ marathon) to attempting a 100 mile race, I had yet to be truly challenged by the distance. I was finally challenged. I found my limit. I now have respect for the distance, and I feel a greater sense of what I need to do. The distance is more concrete now. I’m sure some purists would say I moved too quickly, that I should have gained more experience first. There’s probably something to that, but I feel good about my first attempt, and I’m certain I’ll be back.