My exact words last year when I wrote about my first Ultramarathon experience, the JFK 50 Miler in Boonsboro, Maryland were:

“Such a terrible idea.”

I reiterated those sentiments several times in the article. See for yourself: http://www.runningdad.com/30-past-races/jfk-50-race-recap/

Somehow, though, those words did not sink in and I ended up back in Boonsboro this year for the 54th Annual JFK 50.

Short memory?

Glutton for punishment?

Looking for redemption?

Agreeable drunk?

It all started when my good friend, Mario, who crewed for me in 2015, said he wanted to do JFK in 2016. This conversation took place over a couple beers at our local brewery and I must have been in an agreeable mood. I said, “Hell yeah, I’ll run it with you!” I remember my wife giving me the “what the hell are you thinking?” look – I get that a lot – but a promise is a promise.

Fast forward to November 19, 2016, and I am back in the Boonsboro High School gymnasium surrounded by other crazy trail runners ready to bust out a 50 mile jaunt through the Appalachian Trail and the C&O Canal Tow Path.

I had done the drill before, so I knew what to expect. This was Mario’s first Ultra, so I shared the really important tips and tricks, such as where the port-a-pots were so you don’t have to stand in the long lines inside, and where the shortcut through the ball fields to the start line is. After that it was up to us to decide our fates for the day.

Mario and I at the Boonsboro High School gymnasium.

Mario and I at the Boonsboro High School gymnasium.

The plan was to be conservative on the trail and then make up time on the tow path. That plan helped considerably. Last year I had some issues with staying vertical, falling several times on the rocky terrain of the AT. This year I maintained my upright status, only jamming my toes a few times. I will probably end up losing a few nails in the coming week.

Mario and I stayed together throughout the AT, leapfrogging each other, taking turns leading through the forest. We came off the 1,000 descending switchbacks to meet our support crew, Josh, at mile 17. Josh replenished our water bottles and gave us whatever we asked for – jelly beans, Nuun, encouraging words – then we were back at it, to take on the tow path.

Coming off the final switchbacks.

Coming off the final switchbacks.

Aid stations are placed about 4 miles apart throughout the remainder of the race. This helps to break up the monotony of the tow path. Twenty-six miles of identical scenery – river on the left, trees on the right – can get a bit mind numbing. Don’t get me wrong, the area is beautiful and the weather that day along the the tow path was perfect, but when muscles are burning and fatigue is setting in, the beauty of nature is the least of my concerns.

We met our support crew, now consisting of Josh and Alex, at mile 27. Last year I was in a bad place mentally at this point in the race. Self-doubt had a strong grip on my mind and I was on the brink of quitting. This year, I still had a smile on my face and was ready to tackle the back half of the race. A quick roll of the Stick over my sore muscles, some soup and a PB&J Uncrustable, and off we went. The next meeting point with our crew would be at mile 38.

Mile 27, still smiling.

Mile 27, still smiling.

Speaking of food, I have to give the volunteers and organizers of the JFK 50 credit. The aid stations are very well stocked with all of the items that seem to make no sense for a running event, until you have run an ultramarathon. Cookies, Coca Cola, M&M’s, potato chips, pretzels, oranges, bananas and, of course, water, Gatorade, GU’s, and sports bars. Oh yeah, and jelly beans. How could I forget jelly beans?

Around mile 30, Mario and I adopted the run/walk method. We’d run until Mario’s watch beeped for a mile, then walk about 30-45 seconds. This helped to mentally knock out the miles, one by one. We were doing great. No major issues. Continual forward progress.

Before we knew it, Mile 38 was upon us. I have some really good friends. I owe Alex and Josh a huge “Thank you!” for supporting us for the race. They were always cheering us on at the meeting points with our packs and ready to take care of us. Truly the heroes of the day, these guys deserve all the credit in the world for helping us on this crazy journey. They’d ask “What do you need?” and I’d answer, “I don’t know. Something.” They would step up and find that “something” to keep me going.

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The end of the tow path was quickly approaching and I developed a nasty cramp in my groin area. It felt like someone shot me on the inside of my thigh. I pulled up and let Mario go on without me. He was still clicking along at a steady pace and I didn’t want to hold him back. After a short walk, I got fairly comfortable in my stride and continued on.

 

At mile 42, the tow path gives way to the back roads surrounding Williamsport. I remembered how rolling the hills were through the rural countryside. I was hurting, but still able to keep moving forward with periodic walking breaks. But the adventure was about to get a bit more difficult.

Remember how I commented about the perfect weather? Well, the high 60’s temp and sunny skies turned into low 40’s and 40+ MPH wind gusts. Then came rain. And then sleet. It was pretty miserable for that last 6 miles for me. I can not imagine the conditions for the runners that took over 10 hours and more to finish. I am sure those runners wish they still had their warmer clothing that they shed when it warmed up. I know I did. Fortunately for me, the end was near.

The conditions actually helped me to pick up the pace, simply because I wanted to get back to that gymnasium in Williamsport where I knew hot food and drink was waiting for me. Oh, and my friends would be there too, but food and warmth was my main motivator. Sorry guys.

Finally, after 8 hours and 45 minutes, I crossed the finish line as Mike Spinnler announced, “From Stephens City, VA – that’s right up route 81, is Jeffrey Sanders!” Seriously? 50+ miles and he calls me Jeffrey? I didn’t care. I hastily grabbed my medal, hugged Alex and Josh and headed for the gym.

Done.

Done.

I beat my previous time by a couple minutes, so a new PR! Woohoo!

And got a Sloppy Joe! Woohoo!

Sloppy Joe!

Sloppy Joe!

Mario finished ahead of me by around 10 minutes. Way to go Mario! You’re a beast!

Jim Walmsley crushed the competition and the course record by 13 minutes. Simply insane.

We chatted with Jim Walmsley a bit about his incredible run.

We chatted with Jim Walmsley a bit about his incredible run.

Will I do it again? Maybe. Ask me after a couple beers and I bet the answer is “Hell, yeah!”

I am sure my wife is rolling her eyes as she reads this.