Anticipating Capon Valley

So I'm a couple days away from doing the Capon Valley 50k, this will be my 4th time there. Reflecting on the other years, I dredged up this race report that Megan, Josh and I wrote from the first year we did it, 2004. This was my first ultra since around 1998 or so when I did the PATC Dogwood Half-Hundred. In 2003 I had done 3 marathons, decided I didn't like the roads all that much, and decided to try Capon. The 'good beginner's ultra' refers to the advice we got from our friends in WV, they said it was pretty easy. We've learned now that West Virginians generally don't know what us flatlanders call a hill or mountain, they seem to barely notice them. Anyway, reading this again makes me laugh and realize how much we all forget the bad parts, only remember the good, and keep coming back for more. Note of caution: the course has changed several times since 2004 so these splits will not be the same for 2007.

Capon Valley 50K Race Report --- First Timers’ Thoughts on a “Good Beginner’s Ultra.”
Submitted by Megan Carroll (MC), Michelle Price (MP) and Josh Woodyard (JW)

MC: If the Capon Valley 50K is a relatively easy course for first time ultra runners, then what on earth are all the others like? That’s the question running through my mind, and I suspect I’ll learn the answer by listening to others, not through personal experience any time soon!

In the beginning…
It all began for me almost exactly a year ago when I looked at the pictures for the 2003 Capon Valley 50K, particularly the thigh-high stream crossings and thought “They look like they’re having a lot of fun!” I guess that’s when the bug got in my system. Over the course of the year, I trained for and ran my first marathon (Marine Corps Marathon in Oct. ’03), and then started to prepare for Capon Valley. Michelle and Josh and I joined forces and held our initial planning meeting in the Starbucks at the Barnes & Noble bookstore in downtown D.C. on January 6th. (I know this because what I lack in stamina and physical strength, I make up in record-keeping skills.) We committed to train as a team and help get each other to the start line.

JW: After struggling mightily during my first marathon last May due to an IT band injury, I decided to accept Michelle and Megan’s invitation to train for a 50K in December, 2003. While looking at our race options, Michelle suggested we look into the Capon Valley 50K in Capon Springs, West Virginia. Due to the fact that I’m a native of Poca, West Virginia, I thought it would be great to come home and run in the mountains of my home state. Some may ask, “If you struggled through a marathon, why on earth would you attempt a 50K”? One word: redemption. I wanted to train for over 4 months without injury and enjoy a long race. Mission accomplished.

Race Day…
MC: Saturday, May 15th. The weather was pretty hot and humid. I don’t have precise measurements but I’d guess it was about 65 degrees or so at the start and mid-80’s by the late afternoon. The humidity was just plain high---pore splitting, shorts soaking, looking-like-a-drowned-rat high humidity. Yet still, our spirits were high because race-day was finally here and today’s race would be the culmination of months of training and strategizing and learning about ultras. On Dan Lehmann’s recommendation, we’d each read Running Through the Wall: Personal Encounters With the Ultramarathon by Neal Jamison and A Step Beyond: A Definitive Guide to Ultrarunning, edited by Don Allison. We’d been training on the Greenway Trail in Montgomery County (MD) and the Appalachian Trail just west of Frederick (MD).

MP: In addition to the books above, I read lots of reports from races like the MMT1000 to get an idea of what real misery was like so I wouldn’t feel too sorry for myself as I fought my way through 31 miles.

JW: The week leading up to the race was extremely hot and humid in Washington, D.C. I started checking weather.com for updates in Capon Springs about 9 days before the race. Unfortunately, the warmth would continue through race day. Fortunately, it was overcast for about half the race (at least for the slower folks).

The Race…
MC: Here are some really good things about the race: a) The course is very well marked. The race organizers did a great job of alerting runners to up-coming turns. The pink plastic ribbons were easy to spot. To a first-timer, the well-marked course was a comfort. b) The volunteers at the 6 aid stations were friendly, encouraging, efficient and very good at boosting morale.
MP: It was good to see friendly faces (Bob & Kimberly) and have people wait on you and refill your water bottle. There were plenty of things to eat and fluids. Amazingly beautiful course. No mud that we heard about in previous years and at least 15 stream crossings, Josh and I lost count. Next time (if there is a next time) I think I’ll take the attitude of one of the guys we ran with---douse yourself with water at every stream crossing---revel in it!

MC: For me, the course was a beast. I had my total mental breakdown during those 4.6 miles between aid stations 3 and 4. By that point I was pretty much on my own. My slim hope of being able to keep up with Lydia Young and Michele Yeager were dashed. We ran together for about 10 miles or so, and they slowed down and waited and encouraged but I couldn’t keep up. I had really negative thoughts like “I hope I miss the cut-off so I don’t have to keep going.” I started to dwell on the IT band and hip flexor injuries I’d had in March and April that limited my training. The longest training runs I’d done were 17 miles (twice, but still that’s not really enough.) I was silently cursing, breathing heavily like a really bad phone sex operator (not that I really know), rolling my eyes in disbelief at the hill that never seemed to end, and generally wallowing in negative defeatist thoughts. Not good a good place to be in the first 18 miles of a 50K.

And then came a delightful downhill stretch into aid station 4 at mile 18.2. There, I saw Lydia and Michele just pulling out so I figured I couldn’t be too far behind our intended time goal. Lydia shared encouraging words and got me mentally prepared for the next 6 miles. I learned I was 45 minutes ahead of the cut-off. Suddenly, everything was fine. I knew the worst was over. I was more than half-way done and there was no way I was going to quit. With a nauseous stomach and renewed spirit I headed for aid station 5 and friendly faces.

The rest of the race was a literal and figurative series of highs and lows. Seeing friends Bob Price and Kimberly Thorpe at aid station 5 (mile 24.2) was a total joy. They helped me change into dry socks and shoes; they put ice in all the right places (water bottle, back of bra); they told me I was 40 minutes ahead of the cut-off. They helped me remember everything would be fine if I just kept going as best I could. I also met an experienced ultrarunner from the Virginia Happy Trails Running club during this stretch. She helped me tremendously by sharing some Powerade from her camelback. I was extremely grateful and she graciously responded as if it were nothing----just something you do for other runners when you’re out on the trail together. We ran together for a little while and she showed me the beautiful waterfall. I think I would have otherwise missed it because I was focusing on getting through the stream upright. The garden hose and ice at aid station 6 (mile 28.7), combined with the thought of only have 2.4 miles to go, pushed me over the edge into euphoria. I had an hour to go until the 8 hour cut-off and my rattled brain actually made this (erroneous) calculation: Wow! I did so well on that last section I actually made up time! I’m a whole hour ahead of the cut-off now. I was wrong, but really happy and ready to finish. The lows were---you guessed it---the hills. They just seemed to keep coming. No need to dwell on those now. A final high came at the end when my cousin Jody ushered me to the finish line. Hearing her say she was proud of me means more than I can say.

MP: Almost 4 and a half months and (for me) approximately 493 miles later, I toed the line at Capon Valley. I agree, the course is a beast. First Josh and I discussed the fact that we should know better than to trust folks from West Virginia when they say something isn’t too hilly and is a good beginner’s race. I think the 4.6 miles between aid stations 3 and 4 were the longest 4.6 miles of my life. By the time I got to aid station 5, I was almost ready to quit. Thanks to Bob, Kimberly, Josh and my sense of pride, I kept going. Thanks guys. And then of course when there was a down hill, it was on a road and very steep down hill so you would blast your way down the hill, trying to make up time you had spent walking uphill forever, and knowing your were blowing out your quads.

What went wrong for me? I felt nauseous, I think I may have gotten some Poweraid that was a bit too strong for my stomach. Chaffing from shorts that I’d trained in for 4 months without a problem. I think it was the heat and humidity that even Body Glide couldn’t help.

JW: The race…..what can I say? As I learned in March 2003 at the Buchannon Half-Marathon, never trust an experienced ultra-marathoner’s assessment of a course. That was our first mistake. Hills, hills, and guess what? Hills. Luckily on race day, I was feeling pretty strong despite the humidity. We started the race at a very manageable pace allowing our bodies to get used to the humidity. I felt that this was the key for the remainder of the day.

The first 13.6 miles weren’t too bad. Obviously we had already hit some hills and I actually made the comment to Michelle that I felt our training on the Appalachian Trail was paying off. Then came “the Stretch” as it will forever be known to me and I’m sure many others who ran their first Capon Valley 50K on May 15th. Between aid stations 3 and 4, there is a stretch of 4.6 miles that no one should ever have to endure. A stretch that took us 1 hour and 10 minutes to complete. A stretch that was easily three quarters up hill. A stretch where I began to get irritable, agitated and frustrated . A stretch that I couldn’t believe kept going up. Alas, we finally made it. The downhill stretch into aid station 4 was exactly what my legs needed after what I had just put them through.

After refueling our bodies we took off on one of the more manageable parts of the race. Although the course itself was hospitable between aid station 4 and 5, the blood-sucking flies were not. I’ve seen some fly infestations in my time, but this was ridiculous. They were determined to make their presence known. One of the runners up ahead of us decided to tie his shirt around his head and cover up his ears to muffle the sound of the buzzing flies. During the fly fiasco, the sun was beginning to beam through the pines that weren’t providing much coverage. I noticed myself getting agitated again. When it’s hot, humid and you’re running a 50K, little things will make you lose focus. Fortunately, we were able to get past the fly problem and head downhill into a valley where it was much cooler and shade covered.

As Michelle and I were heading into aid station 5, I could tell she was starting to struggle a bit. But when she looked at me and said she was considering dropping out at this aid station, I knew she must not be feeling good. Fortunately, her brother Bob and his girlfriend Kimberly were there to lift her (our) spirits. It was great that they were able to come out and see us at aid stations 2 and 5. That really provided a much needed burst of energy. As I was getting some food, drink, and Advil on my stomach, Michelle was mulling over her decision with Bob and Kimberly. As I was ready to head out, she said she was going to give it a shot. I was elated that she was going to give it a try. She helped me through my marathon the prior year providing words of encouragement as I struggled with my IT injury and cramping, and I wanted to return the favor.

Unfortunately, heading out of aid station 5, there was a nice, long steep hill waiting for us. That was tough. But, after we were able to reach the ridge of that hill, I knew Michelle would be able to finish.

Aid station 6 was one of the bright spots. The volunteers were wonderful. Knowing that we only had 2.4 miles to go was complete euphoria. I felt I could have sprinted in for those last couple of miles. As I crossed the finish line, I realized that trail-running is the only way to go. I may not do another 50K in the near future, but I do plan to start running more trails and trail races. The scenery and the camaraderie that you have on the trails are much different than that of a road race. Thanks to all who put this race together, it was a great experience. Also, thanks to my wife who endured over 4 months of long-run weekends as I prepared for this race.

For those interested in details. (These times are for Michelle and Josh.)
start to aid #1: 2.4 miles, 30:06
#1 to 2: 6.9 miles, 1:20:30
#2 to 3: 4.3 miles, 47:21
#3 to 4: 4.6 miles, 1:10:57
#4 to 5: 6 miles, 1:26:17
#5 to 6: 4.5 miles, 1:04:12
#6 to finish: 2.4 miles, 30:43
31 miles, total time = JW - 6:47:43, MP - 6:48:50

MC: Since the finish on Saturday, Michelle and Josh and I spent a few minutes rehashing the race and comparing sore body parts like a bunch of veterans. I can sum-up my experience by saying: I’m glad I did it. Training for it and finishing were the hardest physical tests I’ve ever experienced. The benefits far outnumber the negatives, and I’m done for at least a while. I’m not too eager to answer the question: if that was an easy 50K, what’s a hard one like?

MP: Final observation - I agree, incredibly hard but much more rewarding for me than a road race. Enjoy the beauty of nature, chat with nice folks on the trail, and push yourself hard. Can't beat it. Making no promises, I may be back for more.