On October 12, 2014, I completed my fifth Mystery Mountain
Marathon with a finish time of 7:41:29.
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| Photo courtesy of Joy Sandoz |
Mystery Mountain Marathon, which is organized by the Georgia
Ultrarunning and Trailrunning Society (GUTS), takes place every October at Fort
Mountain State Park in Chatsworth, Georgia. The race, which is named
after an 855-foot rock wall of unknown origin at the highest point of the race
atop Fort Mountain, shows a total elevation gain of over 8,500 feet on typical
GPS readings, and features a challenging mix of steep climbs and technical
trails lined with rocks and tree roots.
Despite the rough terrain, Mystery Mountain Marathon is my favorite
Georgia race, because of the beautiful scenery at the start of leaf season, the
presence of several local running friends, and the many volunteers who go above
and beyond the call of duty to make this a safe and fun experience.
After completing this marathon four years in a row from 2009
to 2012, I had scaled back to the 12-mile race option in 2013 due to
injury. Although I am still on the long
road to getting back into peak shape, I was determined to return to the full
marathon distance once again this year, albeit with the modest goal of simply
finishing within the eight-hour cutoff. After
completing a 50K distance at the Merrill’s Mile 12-Hour Run in July and
completing 29.5 miles at the Hot To Trot 8 Hour Run in early August, I had
struggled with heat and low energy at subsequent long distance runs, including
a slow finish time at the Hotlanta Half Marathon in late August and a DNF (Did
Not Finish) over Labor Day weekend at the Yeti Snakebite 50 Mile, where I dropped
from the course after only 22 miles. I’ve
found, however, that the most effective way to get back into the shape for long
distances is to attempt long distance races, even when I am undertrained. In addition to being a fun way to spend time
in the woods during my favorite month of the year, the full Mystery Mountain
Marathon would be a great opportunity to get some training time on my
feet.
This year’s event would feature a new difficulty in the form
of slippery rocks and mud, because heavy rains had drenched the park throughout
the previous night until just a couple of hours before the start of the
race. As I made the rainy two-hour drive
from my apartment to Fort Mountain State Park in the pre-dawn hours, I wondered
how the wet weather would impact my race, since running on the trail boulders
and the many leaf-covered wooden bridges could now be like running on black
ice. Since I usually start in the back
of the pack, I would also be making my way along trails that were muddied from
the shoes of a couple of hundred other runners.
Excitement overcame nervousness, however, when I arrived at the park and
enjoyed hanging out with friends at the race number pickup.
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| Photo courtesy of Daina Denning |
As I lined up with other runners at the start, Race Director
Kim Pike advised everyone that the wooden bridges would be extremely slick
because of the overnight rains. She also
warned us that black bears were present and active on the park grounds, and
that we should exercise caution, especially if we encountered mother bears with
cubs. Despite my offbeat wish to see one
of the bears from a respectable distance, I did not personally encounter a
single one during this race, but several other runners and volunteers reported
bear sightings later in the day.
The sound of cannon fire sent us on our way, and I enjoyed a
relaxed running pace along the first mile around the campground lake, the only
flat terrain of the entire course. I
realized early on that the warnings about the slippery surfaces of the wooden
bridges were valid, because I saw one runner ahead of me slip on one of them.
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| Photo courtesy of Lisa Montreuil |
The next three miles were pleasantly uneventful as I talked
with several other runners in the back of the pack along some rocky ledge
trails and water crossings that demanded vigilance because of the weather. Although I watched a couple of others slip
and fall on the trail, and heard even more people falling on the trail behind
me, I fortunately remained on my feet the entire time. In lieu of the usual running gels, I had
decided to fill three small plastic bags with my favorite race fuel, Gummi
Bears, and I started putting a handful in my mouth at every half hour on my
watch. After the first notable climb of
the course, I arrived at the Stone Tower aid station at the 3.5-mile mark, and
fueled with Powerade, orange slices, and half of a banana before climbing up to
the overlook at the highest point of the race.
As I led a few other runners along the trail that circled
Fort Mountain, a hiker warned us that there were yellow jackets just ahead. A couple of minutes later, I spotted several
of these yellow jackets buzzing around some slippery stone steps. Knowing that the best strategy was simply to
run through as fast as possible, I quickly negotiated the slick rocks and somehow managed not to get stung or to fall on my face. I counted my lucky stars as I heard cries of
pain from runners behind me, and then caught up with a few other runners who
were comparing the stings on their legs.
As I passed a few people on the climb to the tower, I did not have a lot
of trouble coming to terms with the fact that I was unpopular with the yellow
jackets.
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| Photo courtesy of Lisa Montreuil |
The next four miles to the second aid station consisted of a
series of short, but steep climbs and similarly steep descents. As I felt my heart rate go up sharply on the
hills, I looked back with a wistful nostalgia at my 2012 self who had weighed
50 pounds lighter while quickly negotiating these climbs on his way to a
5:30:17 finish time. We have to make do
with what we’ve got at any given time, though, and I was pleased to discover
that I still had the ability to pass other runners on the uphill sections with
my power-walking pace.
After I fueled with more Powerade, oranges, and bananas at
the Park Entrance aid station, I continued along the hilly trail and enjoyed
the company of a couple of fellow ultrarunners, Mary and Paul. I always go through an energy lull at this
point of Mystery Mountain Marathon around mile 9 and 10, because I’m tired out
from the earlier hills, and because I know that the most challenging sections
are still to come, but relentless forward motion and good company got me
through. I suffered my one and only fall
of the day on a muddy descent as Paul and I ran down to an unmanned water
station, and I subsequently apologized for the multiple F-words that I had
provided as the soundtrack as I slipped on the mud and fell on my back. With nothing injured except for my dignity,
I soldiered on and moved steadily to the 11-mile aid station at the base of the
Power Line Trail, the steepest of many massive climbs that would greet me on
the second loop of the course.
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| Photo courtesy of Lisa Montreuil |
The top of the Power Line Trail was concealed in fog, and,
despite my slow and deliberate pace, I enjoyed the cinematic look of my
surroundings and even managed to close the distance between myself and some
faster runners who had started the climb a minute or so before me. After making my way to the top, I walked
along a short stretch before starting the scariest part of the course, a steep
rock-covered descent that drops roughly 1,200 feet in one mile to the bottom of
the mountain. I ran down this hill at a
decent pace, although I was mindful of the slippery terrain and made sure to
stay off to the side of the muddy main track.
Technical downhill running is not one of my strengths, but I somehow
passed runners during this descent for the first time in any of my Mystery
Mountain Marathon races. I was sapped of
energy when I reached the bottom of the mountain, though, so these runners soon
passed me on the forest roads that led to the next aid station.
For this year’s race, the aid station was located farther up
the forest road route than normal so that the usual six-mile stretch of road
with no aid would be split up to better accommodate the runners. When I finally reached this aid station,
which was run by two friends, Deano and Perry, I told them that I was mostly
walking, since I was out of energy. When
they assured me that I had completed 15.5 miles of the course already, though,
my confidence rose. I downed some more
Powerade, oranges, and bananas, thanked my friends, and commenced a series of
seemingly never-ending hill climbs on the rock-strewn road. This forest road section marathon is
maddeningly frustrating in many ways, because I keep anticipating the
inevitable downhill stretch only to turn a corner and see more climbs
ahead. My power-walking pace served me
well, though, and I soon passed a runner on one particularly steep
stretch. For the remainder of the entire
race, I passed others instead of being passed myself.
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| Photo courtesy of Joy Sandoz |
When I finally arrived at the long-awaited descent, I ran
occasionally during the steeper downhill sections before finding myself on a
road covered with wet grass that was slick underfoot. I decided that the benefit of attempting to
run this stretch would be negligible at best in terms of my finish time, so I
resumed walking as not to slip and fall on my face. When I got to the Far Out aid station that
was located at the bottom of the mountain 19 miles into the course, I was happy
to see two friends, Tom and Ronnie. At
this aid station, I also caught up with a couple whom I had been leapfrogging
since the beginning of the race, and, after some mutual encouragement, I
continued ahead by power-walking at a fast clip on the rolling hills and slippery
grass of a forest road that led to the most famous climb of this race, a non-stop
two-mile hike back to the top of the mountain.
This relentless two-mile climb, which proceeds alongside rhododendrons
and a beautiful rocky creek with occasional waterfalls, is the most daunting
section of Mystery Mountain Marathon for most runners, but I have always
enjoyed how this hill allows me to utilize my steady power-walking hill
strategy, which is my greatest strength for trail races. I plowed forward up some grueling
hand-on-knee ascents, and managed to pass three runners on my way to the
top.
I was exhausted, but happy, when I finally arrived at the
Last Gasp aid station alongside a paved road at mile 22.3. Six and a half hours had passed, and, for the
most part, I was too tired to run, but I was still confident of my ability to
reach the finish before the deadline. For
the next few miles, I only ran for brief stretches, because my legs were now
reminding me that I was rusty on the long distances trail routes, but I still
managed to pass a couple more runners. After
a near-eternity of climbing up and down hills along the perimeter ridgeline of
the park, I finally made it to the top of the Power Line Trail, where I would
have to run down the same steep route that I had climbed hours earlier. I miraculously avoided slipping on wet grass
and mud as I ran down the hill, grateful to see more friends volunteering at
the final aid station. I alternately ran
and walked the flat trail on the last mile around the campground lake, but
picked up my pace when I turned the last corner and found myself within sight
of the finish line. I was apparently
brain-dead at this point, because one of the volunteers had to direct me to the
correct side of the flags along the finish chute. I crossed the finish line in 7:41:29 and
placed 83 out of 93 finishers for the slowest trail marathon time of my running
career, but I was nonetheless overjoyed to have conquered this tough course on
a wet and rainy weekend.
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I collected my medal and race glass, and then hung out at
the finish line for a short while to congratulate friends and to relax before
my drive home. I was grateful to see a
large box of fruit at the finish table, because I have returned to my lifestyle
of avoiding processed foods whenever I’m not actually running. I found out that the wet conditions of the trail
had got the best of a few people, but that many of my running friends had also
finished with amazing times.
Thanks to Kim Pike and to the GUTS crowd for another perfect
Mystery Mountain Marathon, despite the decidedly imperfect weather. This was a particularly beautiful race,
because of the leaf change scenery and because of the fog that lent a mystical
atmosphere to the setting, but, as always, the people are what make this even
so special.
See you on the trails.
Jason
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