Hike: Camel’s Hump Summit via the Monroe Trail, Vermont

“Well, this mountain kicked my ass.” Those are the words my little brother, Dan muttered as we finally neared the summit of Camel’s Hump Mountain. After nearly two hours of steep incline, a few rock scrambles and more tree roots than I can count we were finally getting close to the end of the 3.75 mile trail to the top of the mountain. It was, indeed, a tough climb to the top and it was a relief to know that the end was in sight…well, sort of.

At about 12:30 in the afternoon, my little brother, SCAMP (the dog), Mike and I started our hike up to the top of Camel’s Hump, the third largest mountain in Vermont, part of the Green Mountains and perhaps that state’s most distinctive peak. We were all looking forward to a nice hike to the top of the mountain. Although we should have known it would be tough, we were walking up a mountain after all, we really didn’t know what we were getting ourselves in to as we started out on a single track dirt trail.

We quickly fell in to three separate hiking patterns: Mike hiking ahead with SCAMP, Dan not far behind and me bringing up the rear. The trail went up, up, up relentlessly and we took a break for water and to catch our breath when the trail intersected with the Dean Trail.

At this point, we fell in to a new routine: Mike still hiking ahead with the dog, Dan ambling along the trail and me some where in the middle attempting to keep up with Mike and the dog without losing track of Dan. One of the things I love about hiking is that it satisfies my contradictory desire to be both alone and with our people. As we hiked we did very little talking, we weren’t even in sight of one another for a majority of the time, and yet, I loved that we shared this experience.

Most people would think that hiking up a mountain, being constantly out of breath and having to scramble up and over rocks sounds like a form of punishment or torture but I love it. Getting to the top of a long trail up a mountain is a uniquely satisfying feeling. It is filled with triumphs (yay, I made is to the top of this climb) and moments of renewed determination (but I have miles more to go). There are rewards – a sudden clearing of the trees at a beautiful vista of the mountains surrounding you – and moments of quiet reflection as you walk through a forest that has been around longer than you can imagine.

This hike did not disappoint in any of these regards. There were very few switchbacks up this mountain, just a relentless incline through the forest and over the rocks and roots. Most of the time we were under tree cover, which kept us relatively cool, but there were a few spots where we out in the sun. It was actually a pleasant day for hiking (I know most Vermonters would probably say it was hot since it was up in to the 80s but considered there was little humidity and that all I’ve had for the past few weeks is to sticky, gross upper-90s in DC, I thought the temperature was refreshing).

Nearing the top of the mountain and just over three miles, we started to keep our eyes out for the short side trail that would take us to the wing of a B-24J bomber. In 1944, during World War II, the bomber was out on a training run and crashed in to the mountain. The plane (and the several crew members who died) was eventually recovered with the exception of the wing which sits just off the Monroe Trail.

The wing has weathered the 60-plus years on the mountain well but it seems so out of place in this setting. It is definitely one of the most unusual things I’ve encountered out on a hike.

Not long after the seeing the wing, we finally reached the alpine zone and the summit. It was a relief to finally reach the top; we were tired of going up. I was surprised by two things at the top of the mountain: 1) at some point during the hike, the clouds had rolled in and it was overcast and 2) it was super windy. As a result, it felted like we had hiked out of one day and in to another.

Following a hike description we found online, we decided to hike the Long Trail down the mountain, hook up with the Dean Tail after about a mile and then get back on the Monroe Trail a bit under 2 miles from the trail head. As it turned out, this ended up being a bit of a misstep on our part. Since everyone was exhausted from the trip up we probably should have just stayed on the Monroe Trail, retrace our steps back to the start. However, we decided to brave the unknown.

This section of the Long Trail ended up being quite difficult. There was a great deal more rock scrambling and one point we even had to carry the dog over a section of rock. It was a tough hike down because of the steepness and the fact that we weren’t sure we were on the right trail at one point, plus it took us longer to climb down that we anticipated so there were some tense moments before we finally popped out on the Dean Trail and then saw the sign for the Monroe trail and the parking area.

Despite the exhausting climb down (oh man, my quads were toast from the climb up so they were nearly shot for all the downhill stuff), I think the Long Trail portion would have been an awesome climb up. It would have been steeper and tougher, with more hands and knees rock scrambling but it would have been fun to tackle those sections with fresher legs.

We finally made it back to the trail head, all four of us completely spent. It was a fun hike and I highly recommend it for anyone who’s in good hiking shape. I’d love to do it again.

Deceptively Active

I enjoy finding new ways to be active, especially when they don’t feel like exercise. Going for an evening walk or bike ride around the neighborhood, playing tourist in your own hometown and walking everywhere to do it, or trying out a new hiking trail just because it is a beautiful day, are just a few of the ways I’ve tricked myself in to exercise.

Another form of deceptive activity for me is kayaking. We used to go kayaking often when we lived down in Southern Maryland but sadly we had to leave our kayaks behind when we moved up to the DC area because we had no place to store them. Finally, five years later, we went back to collect our kayaks and took out on the Potomac River on Saturday.

It was a gorgeous day to be on the water: the sun was shining down from a blue sky with only a few puffy white clouds. We launched from a marina near National airport and headed toward the Memorial Bridge.

Kayaking on the Potomac, Memorial Bridge in the background w/ Rosslyn, VA on the left and Washington, DC on the right

As we paddled along, sometimes quickly racing ahead of Mike and then slowing down or stopping in order to enjoy the scenery and waiting for Mike to catch up. Race ahead. Drift. Race ahead, drift.

We paddled under Memorial Bridge with the goal of kayaking to Roosevelt Island before turning around and heading back to the marina. We made it to the island and saw a few herons and several small hawks (not sure what kind) along the shore and in the trees. We found a small inlet so we paddled in to the middle of the island. After check out the interior of the island, we headed back to the river.

As we started back toward the marina we spotted a turtle sunning himself on some driftwood in the middle of the Potomac. It is amazing how much wildlife you can see in a city if you look in the right places. It is one of the things I love about DC. While running I’ve come across deer and fox and now we’ve seen turtles and heron within earshot of the hectic citylife of the National Mall.

My arms started getting tired on the way back so I was drifting more than I was racing ahead and I noticed all of the runners and bikers using the bike path along the VA side of the Potomac. I run along this path once or twice a week for the past four years and I’ve often spotted kayakers out on the river. It was often a welcome distraction, something to think about, as I made my way through longer and longer runs. On hot days I would have traded places with those kayakers in an instant if someone had offered up the opportunity and now I was one of them.

It was one of the only times I can remember watching other people run and not feeling an overwhelming urge to join them. I only wondered how many of them spotted me and thought, “Hey, look. A kayaker. That looks fun.”

Me on the Potomac w/ the Mt. Vernon bike trail in the background

We ended up kayaking for an hour and a half and I thoroughly enjoyed it. I didn’t even notice that it was 90 minutes of exercise because it wasn’t. It was an hour and half of fun that happened to be good for me physically and mentally. And that’s the best kind of active.

Formulating My Plan

Sometimes I can be a little flaky when it comes to picking goal races. I want to do them all and as soon as I find a new race/challenge I start day-dreaming about how I can fit it in to my schedule. Oh, a new 50K in Maryland only 30 minutes from the house! Ah, a 12-hour trail run adventure in VA in about a month! Look, a race on the C&O Towpath; I love the towpath! Wow, a race put on by a great beer company; I’m there!

And this is how I ended up with a race (sometimes, two) every weekend of September:

September 4 – Northfield Savings Banks Flying Pig Footrace, 5K
September 11 – VHTRC Women’s Half Marathon Trail Run
September 18 – Revenge of the Penguins 10 Miler
September 25 – Clarendon Day 10K
September 26 – Dogfish Dash 5K

Fortunately I didn’t get too carried away and all of the races are below or at the half-marathon distance (but I’m keeping an eye on that 50K and that 12-hour run for next year).

However, I’m not specifically training for any of these races. I know I can run these distances and I’m really not all that concerned with beating PRs, although it was would be nice if it happened. I wanted to rediscover a sense of freedom in my running. I enjoy doing races and when they aren’t “goal races” there is zero stress involved so I ended up having a great time. There is nothing like crossing a finish line.

And yet, I still want more. I’ve been telling myself since the Skyline Challenge 50K that I should just take the fall off of “training” and just run and race for fun. I’ve repeated this to myself over and over again.

It did not stick.

After talking to another runner about upcoming races and goals, I started getting the itch to attempt a sub-4 marathon with the eventual goal of running a Boston Qualifying time of 3:40. As much as I loved the ultra and as excited as I get about attempting to run further distances, I would also love to go sub-4 before I turn 30. I don’t know why it is important for me to reach this utterly self-imposed arbitrary time goal before my next birthday but nevertheless, it is.

I found a flat, flat, flat race that may just do the trick and I won’t have to start marathon training until October since the race isn’t until the middle of January. No summer long runs for me! Yay!

Anyway, the race isn’t for sure and plans could definitely change but for now it is what I am most excited about so I’m going to go with it.

Sub-4 here I come (and I’ve got my eye on you BQ!)

Daily Dozen:
Strength Training in the morning
XT – Stair climber and elliptical @ lunch hour

Rejection never felt so good.

Going in to the Skyline Challenge 50K, I told myself that if the race went well and I enjoyed the experience I would sign up for the JFK 50 Miler in November. Because of the volume of application the race receives, this year they made entry in to the race a lottery. My application did not get picked in the lottery and I have to be honest my initial reaction was disappointment mixed with relief.

I had a training plan worked out and have poured over race reports from previous years but I was still relieved that I wouldn’t have to go through with the race. I’m not sure I am ready to take on that challenge just yet and I’d like to get some more 50Ks under my belt before jumping up to the next level.

So, yay! for rejection. Saved by the lottery!

I have my eye on another 50K this fall but I’d like to see how a month or so of training goes before signing up for it. It would be a flatter, loop course and I’m excited to see how I handle it compared to the Skyline Challenge that was an out-and-back up and down mountains.

Also, I’ve signed up for quite a few shorter races – a half-marathon trail race, some 10Ks and 5Ks and the annual 10-mile that has become something of a family tradition.

Even if I don’t sign up for another long race this fall I’m looking forward to a fun and relaxed fall running season. No pressure, no expectations, just good running experiences.

Daily Dozen:
XT – elliptical and stair-master @ lunch hour

Recovery Plan

My plan for the rest of July is to fully recover from the Skyline Challenge 50K and be ready to jump back in to running in August. It’s not that I’ll be doing zero running for the next two weeks but rather that I plan on taking it slow and easy and not pushing myself to get out on the bike paths.

Recovery is going well so far. I hadn’t run a step since Saturday’s race because my legs were still feeling sore. However, this morning I wok up an hour before my alarm, wide awake which is usually a sign that the first hurdle toward recovery has been reached.

I decided to go out for a run/walk just to see how my legs would respond. My legs are still feeling pretty dead and I ended up walking quite a bit but it was definitely a mental boost to get back out there.

I’ve been giving a lot of thought toward doing more ultra races but I haven’t really decided on what’s next for me. I’ve been doing some reading on ultras and training for these types of races and I came across this video, Grandmothers of Endurance.

Not only are these women awesome, but they are a huge inspiration to me. I want to be them when I grow up. I have every intention of the being that gray-haired, little old lady at races. Being a lifelong runner is my ultimate goal!

Daily Dozen
2 miles in 28 minutes, early morning

Race Report: The Skyline Challenge 50K Ultra-Marathon

What am I doing here?

 

That was the thought running through my mind in the early morning hours on Saturday, July 10th. What in the world am I doing standing in the rain, before the sun has even come up, surrounded by 100 or so people, waiting for someone to shout “GO!” so that I could spend the next 8 hours running/walking/moving forward through the mountains?

 

I have been in such a funk lately that I just couldn’t wrap my brain around the fact that I had actually signed up for an ultra-marathon several months ago and now I was asking my legs to go through with it even though my brain and heart just weren’t in to it. What am I doing here?

 

I won’t bury the lead here – I had a great day, a great race and I loved just about every second of this experience. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the race. My brain has been churning away faster than it ever has before considering possible future races and experiences. I keep playing back the race in my head, trying to hold on to every second of the race at once – all 8 hours and 9 minutes, all 29,340 seconds at once.

 

Even though I’m hobbling around on sore, weak post-race legs, I feel completely reenergized and strong. Sunday I couldn’t help staring at my legs in amazement at what they are capable of accomplishing.

Start to Aid Station #1

 

It had rained heavily all night but it was only just drizzling when I woke up Saturday morning. As I walked to the race start from the campground, I wasn’t sure how to feel about the rain. While it was cooling things off significantly compared to the last few days, I also wasn’t prepared to be slipping and sliding along muddy trails all day long. The drizzle continued through the pre-race announcements and the short time we waited on the dirt road for the race to start but as soon as they shouted “GO!” I forgot about the rain and didn’t take notice of when it stopped. It couldn’t have continued for more than a mile or two.

 

In fact as soon as I heard the word “GO!” and took off at a slow trot toward the trails my mind started to focused on getting to the first aid station. The aid stations were supposed to be 4-5 miles apart and I just focused on getting to the first. I’d figure out the rest once I got there.

 

According to the pre-race announcements it was 5 miles to the first aid station and afterwards we’d hit a long uphill. “You’ll hate this hill now and you’ll hate it even more when you get there” the race director told us. However, I couldn’t think past the first aid station. I knew I had to make it there and that was it.

 

The trail was muddy from the rain and there were huge puddles along the course forcing us to tiptoe around them. Also, we were still bunched up so this part of the race was a little slow. After a moderate climb we spread out a bit and I even ended up going down the wrong trail for about 5 minutes with a large group of runners before we realized we hadn’t seen pink or orange ribbons in a while. It was a bit of a “Who’s on First” routine trying to figure out which of the three trails we needed to follow but we eventually figured it out and I made it to the first aid station in tact.

 

Aid Station #1 to Aid Station #2

 

I grabbed 3 Oreos, a gel and filled my hand-held water bottle and headed back out on the course. I ate the three cookies and saved the gel for later knowing that I would probably need a boost after we hit the “hill” the race director warned us about. After the ups and downs during that first section it was hard to imagine what could be worse that would necessitate a warning from the RD.

 

This would be the shortest distance between aid stations of the day at roughly 3 miles but it involved that now infamous (at least in my imagination) incline. Even though the sun had come up, it was still overcast and the mud on the trails had not improved. We were still a bit bunched up as we all hit that steep hill, with large rocks and slippery mud. I managed to power hike my way to the top without incident but others seemed to be struggling up the muddy trail and a few even fell in to the mud.

 

Once at the top, I didn’t take time to catch my breath, happy to be able to run again. I made it to the next Aid Station faster than I expected, hitting a short (but rocky, hilly and exposed) out-and-back. Again, I grabbed a few cookies and a gel or two for the road before heading back out on the trails.

 

Aid Station #2 to Aid Station #3

 

The next part of the course was a lot of fun. We ran along the top of the mountain, hitting an overlook that would have been very nice had we not been fogged in. After a few miles of relatively flat but rocky trails, we hit the switchbacks down the other side of the mountain. It was a lot of fun to bomb the switchbacks, barely slowing for the turns, using trees to make the 180 degree turns easier. I didn’t take much notice of how long we were on this section of the trail and I should have because it would be important for the way back but I had a great deal of fun running down that mountain.

 

Coming off the switchbacks we ended up on a wider fire road with plenty of room to let loose. I cruised the flats and down hills, walked the up hills, and felt like I was in the zone.

 

The sun started to come out and at this point, I had been out on the course a little under 3 hours 30 minutes. It was starting to warm up but the trees were providing a nice shade and I welcomed the opportunity to dry out a little bit.

 

I had been aiming to hit each of the aid stations in 1 hour 15 minutes or less and I was on target. I felt surprisingly good considering I had run nearly 15 miles on hilly, rocky terrain.

 

I made it to Aid Station #3, refilled my water bottle, grabbed some pretzels, cookies and gummy bears and some salt tablets and headed down the road.

 

Aid Station #3 to Aid Station #4

 

There was a small bit of road running after leaving aid station #3 but I didn’t mind it before we hit a wide gravel trail with some rolling ups and downs. I also finally saw the lead runners coming back and got my first taste of just how supportive and friendly ultra-runners can be. Every single runner who passed me going the other direction had a smile and words of encouragement. I’ve cheered on faster runners in plenty of road races but never once have the lead runners broken focus in order to tell me “good job” or “keep it up” or “looking strong.” It was an awesome show of support.

 

Nearly to Aid Station #4, we headed up a long, winding hill. I walked most of it but it felt great knowing I was so close to the turn around point.

 

As I came up to the top of the hill, I realized I had only seen 7 or 8 woman coming back the other direction, meaning I was in the top ten (now, there were only about 100 runners I would guess and only a quarter of those runners were women but still…top ten!!). I breezed through the aid station, grabbed some goodies and gels and headed back down the hill.

 

Aid Station #4 to Aid Station #5

 

I felt GREAT. I was flying.

 

I hooked up with another runner going down the hill who was from Northern VA and we started talking about ultras and running in DC, etc. He was amazed that this was my first ultra and that I was looking so good. It was fun to have someone else to talk to and it must have shown because everyone commented on how much fun we were having as we passed.

 

Then, I realized we hadn’t passed anyone for a while. Then, I realized we hadn’t seen an orange or pink ribbon in a while. Then, I realized that we were running on a road, not a trail and had been for some time. Then, full realization set it…we had missed a turn (it wasn’t just me and my new friend, there were 5 of us strung out along the road) and were not on the course. We headed back the way we came and I took off. I didn’t really care that we were lost or that I had run two extra miles. I just wanted to get back to the course because I had something to prove to myself now.

 

I’d be lying if I said getting lost and running extra miles didn’t knock the wind out of my sails a bit but I was still having a good time. I was also happy to be back on track.

 

Aid Station #5 to Aid Station #6

 

As we back-tracked along the course, it didn’t occur to me what I had to face. As I quickly made my way through the fifth aid station, refilling and restocking, I was just focused on the task at hand. We got back on the wide jeep road and before too long we were back in the woods and headed toward the switchbacks.

 

Oh crap! The switchbacks.

 

As I headed up the mountain, I kept telling myself that the run down didn’t seem that long so the hike up couldn’t be that brutal. But I just kept climbing up and up. By this time, no one was around me. I couldn’t see anyone head of me or anyone climbing up. For 30 minutes of steady power hiking, I just followed the trail from orange or pink ribbon to orange or pink ribbon. I started questioning the situation and myself. What if I was supposed to turn off somewhere and this was only supposed to be for the climb down? Where is everyone else? What am I doing out here? When will this end? God, my legs are killing me! This is supposed to be a running race, not a hiking race. Argh! I will even admit to mumbling expletives as I hiked up the never-ending mountain.

 

I still wasn’t any close to the top but after 30 minutes I saw a group of runners slowly gaining on me. I was so excited to see another human being that I didn’t even care that they were coming up so fast it looked like I was standing still.

 

Fifteen minutes later – after 45 minutes (I’m guess-timating) of walking up a mountain – I finally made it to the top. The group behind me soon passed me but I took off running after them. It wasn’t easy, or fast, my legs were officially shot after that long climb.

 

However, I was eager to get to the next (and last!) aid station. As I left the last aid station, #5, I heard someone say that we were at mile 22 so I was trying to do the math and figure how much more running we’d have to do after the #6.

 

As I finished the trail and headed back down and back up the gully to get to the final aid station (what was aid station #2 also) I heard someone as they ran by me going the other direction – “once you get to the aid station, it’s only four miles to the finish.”

 

I have never, ever wanted to see an aid station as much as I wanted to see this one. I knew that the worst of the course was over and I knew I would finish. I was quick to grab my goodies and refill my water (I took a swig of soda because I was intrigued that they were offering it at all the aid stations. Blech! Last thing in the world I wanted while running). I was out of there and on my way to the finish.

 

Aid Station #6 to Finish

 

I kept an eye on the one woman in front of me the whole way to the finish. I didn’t have the energy left to pass her but I knew that if I kept her in sight I would be able to keep a decent pace.

 

The sharp climb up the mountain really zapped my energy and fried my legs. It actually felt better to run than to walk but I wasn’t able to run any of the steep down hills any longer. My quads were shot and didn’t have the strength to hold my knee in place on the left leg so it started to hurt on the down hills. It wasn’t terrible pain and it went away as soon as I was able to run on level ground or walk up hill. (I even started to wish for up hills while I was stumbling back down the “hill” from the beginning of the course, which thankfully had dried out by this time. I wasn’t looking forward to sliding down the mud on that one).

 

And before I knew it, I was on the dirt road headed back toward the campground and the finish line. Cars were passing me and the drivers would wave and shout encouragement (much faster runners than me headed home, I can’t blame them). I saw the lake, I made the last turn and I headed for the finish line as fast as I could, which was surprisingly fast considering all I had been through.

 

I felt no pain. I felt no fatigue. I just felt elated.

 

Someone near the finish line spotted me and started shouting and cheering. She was pretty impressed with my finishing sprint and said so. I turned in to the grass and down the finish chute…and then I was done. I finished my first ultra. I ran 31 miles. I ran MORE than 31 miles since I got lost! I did it in 8 hours and 9 minutes. Right on target.

 

It was the absolute toughest thing I’ve ever had to do but it is definitely something I would do tomorrow if I could.

 

 

Me after finishing the race

 

The course profile - Mountains! 

 

Pros:

• First ultra-marathon experience couldn’t be beat
• Challenging – I’m so proud I was able to finish
• Nice performance shirt
• Awesome food at the end and I nice low-key picnic feel

Cons:

• I got nothing – it was great!

 

Diagnosis ?

It has been a strange few weeks for me running-wise.


Let me set the record straight – I’ve had some good runs and even some memorable runs (thanks Mom!). However, June was also the worst month of running for me since I started 4 years ago. It wasn’t my pace. It wasn’t my mileage. (Although neither of those were spectacular). It is the only time that I have dreaded running. I’ve hated the bike paths. I’ve resented waking up early. I’ve cursed the hills.

So what was going wrong?

I wasn’t sleeping well because of work and so I wasn’t running at all or running well when I would try to get out on the trails. In fact, I’ve had quite a few “stop-and-starts” meaning I’d get out to run, get anywhere from a whole mile or just a few steps before I would just decide to stop. Once I stopped because my heart rate shot up almost immediately and I took that as a sign that I needed to rest/sleep more than I needed to run. Another time I ran a full mile and I simply decided that I had had enough. I really didn’t want to be out there so I stopped, turned around and walked home.

Stopping mid-run because of a high heart-rate is just smart. Stopping mid-run because I just didn’t want to be out there, well, that’s unusual for me. In the past when I’ve had to talk myself in to getting out on the paths, once I started I would feel better and even if I never felt super-great on the run, well by the end I would at least feel accomplished and proud. This time, the time when I just stopped, I didn’t feel anything in particular. I stopped running, started walking, made it back to the house and fell instantly asleep. I didn’t even realize I was that tired.

To me, these are the symptoms of over-training and being burnt-out. Usually I can’t wait for the weekend long runs and now I have to convince myself to get out there.

Is it the heat? Is it that I need a break? I don’t know.

I haven’t been running like I had hoped leading up to my first venture in to the world of ultra-marathon running and that has both bummed me out and made me very nervous for this coming Saturday. I don’t really know what is going to happen. I had a good base going to the marathon in May and I did my best to balance recovery from that PR-race and maintaining a certain level of running-fitness for the 50K attempt next weekend. That balance never really happened and now I’m nervous and a little afraid. I have no idea what is going to happen this weekend. I did what I could be it was far less than I had hoped/planned.
So maybe it is fear?

No matter what, no matter the heat, the burn-out or the fear, Saturday is going to happen and I am going to give it my best shot. Even if I end up walking most of it, by Saturday afternoon I will have run an ultra-marathon.

Daily Dozen:
4.27 miles @ easy pace this morning
Strength training @ lunch hour (arms only)