*splat splat splat splat
splat splat*
SPLAT!!!!
I cursed and picked myself up from the ground for the 4th
time of the day.
I had been looking forward to coming back to StumpJump 50K since
Joel and I decided to sign up earlier in the year. I ran it back in 2013 and
had a blast despite the rough day I had. To recap that disaster of a day for
you… I went out way to hard, it was unseasonably hot, I cramped extremely
bad, and got stung by a cluster of yellow jackets. By the time I reached mile
26 aid station at Mushroom Rock… I opted to sit down and enjoy an entire beer
before trudging along to the finish. It was fun… but wasn’t pretty. Needless to
say… this year I was stoked to go back and thoroughly enjoy the entire event.
However… my hopes for a solid race were dwindling when I found myself hobbling
down the Yellow/White connector at Oak Mountain State Park the Wednesday before
the race.
After a few weeks of solid training and racing… I was in the
midst of a relaxing week leading up to StumpJump. I had planned on doing a few
light runs to keep my legs loose for the weekend… I even mixed in a little yoga
with the wifey. About 2 miles into my easy Wednesday trail run… I felt a sharp
twinge in my calf. I immediately shut my run down. I was pissed. It’s been a
tough year battling a bad case of plantar fasciitis and after 5 months of
no/light running… I felt like I had finally defeated the issue and my
training/running was back to normal. I don’t believe it was one particular
thing that caused the strain in my calf… just a mixture of starting to train
harder, some over compensation for my foot issues and possibly some over
stretching in yoga (since I NEVER do yoga). Regardless of what caused the
issue… my calf was already swollen and bruised.
The next day, I immediately called to schedule an
appointment with Dr. Beau Beard of the FARM. Thankfully he had an
opening and got me in for some rehab. After the session was over… Beau taped my
calf to try and draw some of the inflammation out. Picasso would be jealous...
My awesome boss let me off half a day on Friday so I could
catch a ride up to Chattanooga with Joel. I swung by the FARM on the way over to
his house to get one final, tough ass and hopefully fail proof tape job. Beau
assured me he would get me through the race… maybe not pain free… but I would
finish. And he also said…
“I’m putting a base layer under this tape simply because it
will literally rip your skin off if I don’t.”
Now that is some seriously strong tape…
After meeting up with Joel… we hopped in his 4runner and
headed towards Leeds to meet up with Jake and his girl Gabi. A bag of circus
peanuts, a bag of jelly beans and a Mello Yellow later... we were at Rock/Creek
picking up our bibs for the race and talking with the other runners. We had a
good amount of Birmingham folk come up to race and Donna, Travis Grappo and Justin
were all at packet pick up as well. I also met a really cool guy named Rokas
and I spent a few minutes talking with him and Sean Run Bum Blanton about some
upcoming adventures. We eventually broke away from the group and to look around
the store. After we got our fill of the Rock/Creek store… we set off for one of
my favorite places in Chattanooga… the Terminal Brewhouse!
We were eating, drinking and well on our way to being merry
when I noticed Joel hadn’t really been talking much…
For those of you that don’t know Joel… he can literally find
the most interesting person in a place and immediately strike up conversation.
It NEVER fails. The last time he was at the Terminal for the Lookout Mt 50
miler he met Charlie. Charlie is basically that super interesting local that
visits the Terminal on a daily basis for a drink and sits in his seat at the end of the bar. This
time… he struck up conversation with some grey haired beauties from the UK. We
eventually finished our brews and tabbed out… and Sir Joel was applauded by the
husbands of London’s finest on a stellar “conquest.”
Thankfully we didn’t have to worry about a place to sleep
since Jake’s sister opened her lake house for us. (Thanks again Jake!!) We sat
around and chatted with Jake’s mom and John for a bit before
winding down for the night. I knew it was time for bed when Joel started making
sleepy time tea… damn… those Brits really got to him…
Once the coffee and oatmeal were finished… we walked out of
the lake house into a cool and misty 50 degree morning. 50 degrees isn’t cold
by any means… but when the prior week was in the 80s and the sky is spitting
cold rain… it becomes cold.
I nibbled on a Clif Bar and stared out the window as we
drove the empty Chattanooga roads…
“It’s gonna be a long, cold, sloppy race.”
We parked in the Signal High parking lot and started getting
our things together for the race. I had ZERO desire to take off my jacket and
walk across the already wet field to the starting area. I finished stuffing my
shorts with my racing needs, filled my 12oz soft flask and reluctantly took my
jacket off. We walked over to the starting line and met up with the Birmingham
crew.
I half debated racing in the shirt I wore down from the car... but decided to remove it and stand in the
cold rainy mist with Justin and Grappo…
(Picture Credit: Season Lane)
I decided to start up front simply because I didn’t want to
get caught in the bottleneck. There were 268 runners starting the race and I didn't want to fall into the conga line of boredom and death march the first
miles of the race. I chatted with Grappo and Justin for a few minutes while the
race director gave directions through a bull horn. I had planned to do my best
to keep up with them for as long as my calf would allow me. The race director wrapped
up his monologue and then we were off!
We started out on a small, fast section along the road
before veering off into the woods. They had changed the course (for the better)
this year and we would be running the first 6 miles of single track from the
old 11 mile race they used to offer at StumpJump. It would make this StumpJump a
little harder with more vertical gain and this section was definitely far more
technical than the previous crushed gravel route they had in place for prior
events. Edward’s Point is one of my favorite spots in all of Chattanooga and I
was excited to possibly snatch a view from the lookout. The 3 of us kept a good
pace all the way to Edward’s Point but none of us needed aid so we bypassed the
view and kept along the single track.
(Picture Credit: David Martin)
We carried on happily chatting all the way to Mushroom Rock.
Before hitting the aid station I downed a gel and quickly filled my soft flask.
I took out pretty hard out of Mushroom Rock because it was a steep descent down
to the suspension bridge and I wanted to be able to let loose and not worry
about slowing down for someone in front of me.
Grappo, Justin and I reconvened at the Suck Creek Road aid
station and headed up the short portion of road to the stairs leading back onto
the single track. I absolutely loved the next section to the Indian Rock House
aid station…. rolling single track hugging the ridgeline with constant, beautiful
views of a gloomy looking Tennessee River far below with the distant ridgeline
across the way popping in and out of view from low hanging fog. These types of
days are my favorite to spend in the mountains. I’d seriously take these over
sunny days every single time… maybe I should just move to the PNW……….
Justin was having issues with his shoe chip so took a few
minutes to get that situated. I pushed ahead because I felt if I slowed down my
calf would want to seize up. Up to this point in the race… my calf was being
cooperative. There was a constant tightness… but it wasn’t hurting or giving me
much grief. I could hear cheers from the Indian Rock House up ahead. I love
this aid station. There is always a good crowd of spectators and it always is
so energizing! I quickly grabbed a banana half, refilled my soft flask and
headed back out onto the trail.
“There’s the wild man!”
I gave a quick high five to my buddy Jake from Roots Rated.
I hadn’t seen him all summer because he was gallivanting around on an epically
beautiful country wide adventure tour promoting Roots Rated. If you
haven’t heard of Roots Rated yet… I suggest you look them up and download their
ap on your phone. They’ve basically worked with local experts in areas all
across the country and have compiled all things adventure into an easy to use
ap to make it easier to discover local spots to explore and check out. I’ve
used Roots Rated sooooooooo much while planning adventures… especially when I
travel somewhere new!
(Photo Credit: Jake Wheeler)
I left the Indian Rock House and continued along the beautiful
ridgeline for a few more miles. Justin and Grappo eventually caught up and
passed me. Justin is fast as hell and Grappo is a beast of an athlete. He’s not
only a great athlete… but he’s got an internal drive that is so deeply rooted…
that it could make anyone envious and wonder where it stems from. To say I
respect and admire his drive and Grappo as a person is an understatement.
My plan is always to run my race and compete with myself… so
I never get upset or troubled when people pass me… especially people like
Grappo and Justin. If you know me… you know that I’m not a competitive person
when it comes to running. I may have been competitive when I was on the mound
during my college baseball career… or I may be competitive in a pickup game of
basketball… or at mini golf… or whiffle ball… but not with trail running. Trail
running is something I truly love for the simple act of the adventure behind
moving quickly through the mountains.
I hopped off the trail to let Grappo pass…
“Man… Zach. You’re having a hell of a race. You’re looking
strong and comfortable. Just be smart, take care of your calf and don’t blow
up. Keep it up man!”
That kind of statement goes a long way from someone like
Grappo.
I watched them disappear around the corner ahead and I settled
into a nice rhythm. I had been with people and carrying on conversation all
day… it was nice to be able to enjoy some solitude and silence. I continued a
mellow pace listening to the rain fall through the trees… enjoying the sound of
my steady *splat splat splat* foot falls on a muddy, wet trail… until…
SPLAT!!!!
I quickly picked myself up off the ground and turned around
to see if anyone had witnessed my clumsiness. I had hit a small slick rock and
lost traction. I’ve learned how to quickly assess the pros and cons of taking a
fall. If it’s more hazardous to try and catch myself… I just do my best to roll
with the fall to avoid messing up an ankle. This lil fall spiked my adrenaline
and I came into the Snooper’s Rock aid station (mile 17.5ish?) feeling pretty
good.
(Picture Credit: Season Lane)
I heard a familiar voice from the aid station. Satan?!?
Though as you can see from the above picture... Satan was actually at Snooper’s Rock… her voice is
thankfully less familiar than Season’s voice. Season asked about my calf while I
filled my soft flask. I told her it didn’t feel great by any means but it was
surprisingly holding up! I grabbed a handful of gummy bears and headed back
into the woods. It’s always good hearing/seeing someone you know… it never
fails to lift your spirits.
I was still alone… happily running and chomping away on my gummy
bears when a little yellow one slipped through my fingers and landed in the
mud. I laughed and screamed outloud…
“NO BEAR LEFT BEHIND!!!!”
I slammed on the
brakes to go back and get him...
SPLAT!!!!
I again spoke out loud to myself…
“You idiot.”
Yea I busted my ass… but dammit… I saved that golden bear.
(I know. I have waaaaaaaaay too much fun by myself… but I
was once told… if you can’t get along with yourself… don’t expect to get along
with anyone else…)
I started having some awful flashbacks from the next
section. This was the section where I was in full blown cramp mode a few years
before. Thankfully… I was still feeling pretty strong and running smoothly. I
popped out onto a washed out road and started climbing up to the Haley Road aid
station. When I got up to the aid station I saw my buddy Nate! I gave him a hug
and congratulated him on his phenomenal Grand Slam of Ultrarunning finish! If
you don’t know Nathan Holland ...you are missing out.
(Picture Credit: Roots Rated)
I knew I had a mile or so before hitting the infamous Rock
Garden. The Rock Garden is exactly what it sounds like… a massive garden made
up of rocks and boulders that you have to carefully navigate. I’m still
sporting a pretty nasty scar on my shin from 2 summers ago when I took a nasty
fall in the Rock Garden with my friend Erin… and it was a dry day!
Since it was STILL raining… and the conditions made for
ridiculously slippery rocks… I made the easy decision to take my time through
the Rock Garden. It’s a really beautiful section so the slower pace through the
Garden wasn’t all bad.
I had successfully navigated the Rock Garden without
incident or falling! I was so proud of myself and was in the midst of patting
myself on the back when…
SPLAT!!!!
“DAMMIT!” I nicked my pinky toe on a root and planted my
other foot on a slippery rock and found myself on the ground for the 3rd
time of the day. A sharp rock opened my shin and I slowly watched the blood
start to trickle down my leg. “Welp… that’s gonna bruise and hurt like hell
tomorrow.”
The adrenaline from the fall again had me feeling pretty euphoric
when I rolled into the Mullen’s Cove aid station. Eric (Rock/Creek team
runner) filled my soft flask with GU Brew.
“Hey man! You’ve got something on your chin!”
I combed through my beard. There was no telling what was in
my beard… a gel, mud, a bird… who knew…
“I’m just talking about your beard!”
Hahahah! I instantly felt dumb for not catching his obvious
joke…
I smiled and thanked him before heading back onto the
trails. It was an extremely short section between Mullen’s Cove aid station
back to the Indian Rock House aid station so I had planned on breezing right
through Indian Rock House without slowing for aid. Once again… I could hear the
cheers from Indian Rock House as I approached. Despite that cold/wet weather…
there were more people out the 2nd time I hit this aid station. I
got a few cheers and motivational talk as passed through. This is way I love
Rock/Creek races so much… there’s always such a lively and supportive community
backing any event they put on.
After Indian Rock House you hop back on the initial trail
and follow the route back to Mushroom Rock. By this time more than 200 runners
had traversed this trail which churned the mud and created some very slippery
and gunky trail conditions. I came face to face with a few runners as I started
back towards Suck Creek Road. Just when I started picking up speed and settling
into a groove…
*splat splat splat
splat splat splat*
I planted my right foot in some thick mud along the outside
portion of the trail. My footing immediately gave way.
SPLAT!!!!
I toppled down and
banged my knee on a rock before continuing my fall. I cursed and picked myself
up from the ground for the 4th time of the day. The only difference
between this fall and the previous 3 was the fact that this one actually hurt
pretty bad. I stood up caked in a thick, grimy, cold mud that covered the
entirety of my left side from my ankle to the bottom of my armpit. Blood was pouring from my knee... which
perfectly complimented the blood that was already drying on my shin. I didn’t
bother cleaning myself off because it was still raining and I would be clean
(well... appear to be clean) in a matter of miles. But until the rain washed me
clean… thanks to the mud and an abundance of beard and long hair… I looked like
a crazed swamp yeti running through the woods to the few runners that were
still making their way to their first visit of the Indian Rock House aid
station. I gave smiles… they gave odd looks… no difference than my normal daily
life I thought.
Up to this point in the race… Kendrick Lamar’s “The Recipe”
had been stuck in my head all day…
“You might catch me in Atlanta looking like a boss. New
Orleans and then Miami, party in New York. Texas I be screwed up, Chi-town I be
really pimpin’, but nothing like my hometown I’m forever living.”
But I left The Recipe somewhere caked in mud after the last
bloody fall… and Taylor Swift’s “Bad Blood” played on repeat in my dome piece.
Love. That. Girl.
I quietly meowed along to “Bad Blood” (meowed = replacing
words with cat’s meows… I know… I’m weird… but fun fact… meowing is a
completely normal/daily activity in the Andrews’ household)…
I stopped my meowing when Justin came into ear shot. It
just seemed easier not to have explain why a grown ass man covered in blood and
mud is meowing to a Taylor Swift song in the middle of the woods…
We ran together for a while until we popped back out onto
the road. As we ran the short section down the road I saw my buddy Ry of Roots Rated directing us where we needed to hop the guard rail to get
back on the trail. In 10 seconds or less… I said hi, bye and told him how
jealous I was of his summer long adventure across the country. We scaled the
guard rail and crossed a wooden foot bridge to the Suck Creek aid station.
Once we completed the initial climb out of the Suck Creek
aid station… Justin picked up his pace and was not seen again for the remainder
of the day. I carried on with a comfortable pace until we started the descent
to the suspension bridge. Out of the blue my hip flexor spazed and began
cramping. I slowed down to work out the sudden cramp but nothing I was doing
was helping. I cursed loudly into the woods and was startled by a runner that
had crept up on me from behind.
“Sorry about that man. I thought I was alone.”
He kind of laughed and said he didn’t care. He mentioned he
had been cramping on and off all day and completely understood my
frustration. I let him slide past and I
slowly started descending again. As quickly as the spasm/cramp came… it passed.
It was really strange. I opened up my pace a little and cruised down to the
suspension bridge.
(Picture Credit: Joel Maxwell)
It was still raining and wet so I took my time across the
slick wooden bridge and enjoyed the scenic river below. After crossing over the
bridge I started a slow climb up to Mushroom Rock. I could see the guy who
passed me a little ways in front of me and saw a Rock/Creek team runner coming
up behind me. I got up to the aid station and half-filled my soft flask.
“Less than 2 miles to the finish man! Looking good… keep it
up and finish strong!”
I smiled and thanked them for being out there and putting on
the race. I was glad to hear there was only a couple of miles left… not because
I was ready to be done running… but because 2yrs ago… this aid station was mile
26 and not mile 29ish… and 2yrs ago I was sitting with my ass in the dirt
drinking a full beer because it was one of those
kind of race days.
The rest of the race would be run along a muddy, water
covered jeep road. It had a few small climbs but was mostly flat with a lot of
standing water. I was still feeling somewhat peppy, so I pushed the pace and
passed the runner that I let slide by on the descent down to the suspension
bridge. Before I knew it… I popped out of the canopy and into the parking lot
where we had started hours earlier. I was the 8th runner to cross
the line in a time of 5hrs29mins!
(Picture Credit: Season Lane)
I walked over and congratulated Grappo (5th OA)
and Justin (7th OA) on an outstanding race. I talked with a few
other runners for a few minutes before my body temperature was telling me it
was time for some warm clothes. By the time I got to Joel’s car I was
shivering. I painfully ripped off my mud covered tape job that had perfectly
held my calf in place. Again… I had to apologize to a girl passing by for the
obscene language. She just laughed… “No apology necessary…I completely understand.” God I’m glad I’m not a girl.
I layered up and headed back to the start/finish area and
munched on a deliciously warm cheeseburger while cheering on the other
finishers. The sky would rotate between misting and raining… and we matched the
weather by rotating between standing outside and under the pavilion. Jake’s
support team joined me at the S/F area to wait for our runners. Joel was the
first to arrive…
Fun fact: If you aren’t smiling at the end of a trail race…
you’re doing it for the wrong reasons…
(Picture Credit: Jake's Mom)
Joel left us to put on warm clothes… but more importantly…
to get the cooler of Good People Brewing beer. He came back with a cooler full
of IPAs and we started handing out beer to whoever wanted to partake. I was
surprised with the amount of people that were excited and knew about Good
People Brewing!
The rain had picked up as Donna and Jake crossed the finish…
(Picture Credit: Jake's Mom)
We joined up with the other Birmingham runners (Keith and
Ross) and we all sat around, drank and talked about our race experiences. Before
long we had successfully handed out the GP beer and started to wrap up. We were just about to head out when I heard
the announcer call out Beau’s name…
After congratulating Beau on his finish… Joel and I walked
along the road back to his 4runner.
And of course… we had celebratory mini Jagers!
Camp RainsAlot
Joel was kind enough to drop me off at Cloudland Canyon
after the race. Greg and I had been trying to plan a mountain getaway adventure
with Breanna before she moved out to Flagstaff, but errrrybody’s schedule
clashed so we would have to make the best of an overnight stay at Cloudland.
Greg and Brea had camp set up by the time I got there. Spann said there would
be no rain overnight but we took precaution anyways and started constructing a
canopy for Camp RainsAlot (CRA).
(Picture Credit: G)
Once darkness fell on CRA we bundled up and circled our
chairs under the canopy.
(Picture Credit: G)
Greg cooked a scrumptious shrimp alfredo meal and I scarfed
it down as if I hadn’t eaten in days. Greg pulled out the whiskey and I pulled
out a few brewskis and we began the adventure talk. Brea had just recently done
a podcast called “Running to Mental Health” which discusses her battle
with an eating disorder and how it plays into her ultrarunning adventures. I
really enjoyed listening to the podcast because it gave me a completely
different perspective into Brea’s life and what makes her tick. I’m extremely
thankful and honored that Brea opened up on the podcast and even more during
our time at CRA to give us a deeper look into her battle. UNBELIEVABLE! I’m
blown away by Brea. Not only is she this tough ass runner… but I think more
importantly… she’s a kick ass person. Her drive and dreams are out of this
world and there are no if, ands or buts about it… she’ll do exactly what she
sets out to do.
Greg - “SPANN LIES!!!”
The rain picked up. Every few minutes our canopy would fill
with water and then as if on an automated timer… a waterfall would cascade over
the edge. The process played on repeat as the discussion transitioned into
tales of past adventures… and then slowly drifted into exciting future adventures…
We eventually all went our separate ways to slumber…
I awoke to the sweet sound of happy puppies milling around
the campsite. I was relieved to unzip my tent to discover that the rain had
stopped. It had howled the entire night and honestly I was tired of being wet
and cold.
(Picture Credit: G)
Brea took the pups (Sophie and Sam) out for a short morning
spin on the trails. After a few miles she came back and left Sam with us so she
could further explore the park with Sophie. I had originally planned to run
with her… but my calf was swollen and achy. Everything else on my body was in
great shape and just slightly sore… but I knew better than to try and force a
run… so I opted for a relaxed, coffee filled morning with Greg by the fire at CRA.
Sam’s whimpers let us know that she was upset and saddened by
Brea’s absence… but her pitiful whimpers
were short lived… for Greg the magnificent pulled out the magic, dog calming jerky… and before
long… Sam was in belly rub Heaven…
“Brea? Who’s Brea again?!”
(Picture Credit: Jake from State Farm)
Jake and Gabi stopped by CRA on their way back down to
Birmingham. They strolled up with glorious gifts! Jake handed out supplies and
started with the instructions:
-
Take your banana and slit it open on the
underside
-
Stuff it full of chocolate and peanut butter
chips
-
Stuff it full of marshmallows
-
Wrap it in tin foil
-
Throw it in the hot fire embers
OMGz. OMGz. DELISH!!!!! This is a MUST try at your next camp
out.
Brea eventually wrapped up her run and joined us by the
fire. From her pictures… it looked like she had a wonderful run… hate I
couldn’t tag along!
Our time at Cloudland came to an end and we
broke down Camp RainsAlot and packed up the vehicles. We wished Brea the best
as she embarked on a new life adventure in Flagstaff and sent her away with a
BUTS sticker...
I started dozing in and out of consciousness almost
immediately upon entering Greg’s truck. The next thing I knew… I was purchasing
a drink and BBQ chips at a gas station in Alabama. Greg had been talking about
a few climbing spots in the area so we made a short detour and did a quick hike
to let me see some of the routes. I really need to start back climbing…
This past week has been fabulous. I decided to do some light
cycling instead of running throughout the week to let my calf and body heal.
The slow easy ride gave me a chance to really reflect on the
past weekend and how blessed I am. It’s been a rough year filled with injuries
and frustrating times… but I am so thankful for a body that is capable of
healing itself and one that allows me to take these adventures and to run these
distances. I’m also grateful to have such a strong support system... from my
wonderful wife and my amazing friends... to people like Beau and Sloan of the FARM that help me pursue
my adventurous ambitions.
Sitting around Camp RainsAlot listening to all of Greg and
Brea’s crazy stories and unreal adventures… and then discussing/planning future
adventures… has got me crazy excited and motivated to get back to the grind and
pursue some of my own personal ambitions…
Run long, run wild, and howl loudly!
