When a work commitment takes you out of state, what do you do?

For me, it means looking to see what race options are available. Fortunately, a December weekend trip to Tampa brought me within a two-hour drive to Mount Dora, a vibrant, festive and eclectic community that happens to put on a half marathon and 5K the weekend I was in town.

Packet pickup

Due to work and travel commitments, I was not able to attend the expo of the Mount Dora Half Marathon. However, the race offered packet pickup on race morning. The pickup was held in a centralized indoor building in the heart of Mount Dora. It was easy to find and there was plenty of free parking nearby.

It took me almost no time to get my bib and race shirt. Afterward, I got into my pre-race routine, relaxing and using the port-a-potties mostly. There were only five port-a-pots near the packet pickup. While I was waiting, another runner mentioned there were more near the “lake” — I was already close to the front so I didn’t inquire as to what she meant by the lake but I believe she meant the start/finish area, which was about a quarter-mile away.

Race morning was a comfortable 50 degrees. (OK, comfortable for me. Some of the Floridians were freezing.) The pre-race festivities near the start line were energetic and helped give the roughly 2,000 half marathoners a positive vibe going into the start of the race, which was 7 a.m. The 5K runners would start 15 minutes later.

Rolling hills. Check.

I think I am starting to get the hang of this rolling hills thing. I set my half marathon PR on a course with rolling hills last month and I aimed to best that effort at Mount Dora. After all, this race not only concluded my race season, it was my fourth race in the last six weeks.

That is by far the most I have done that close together but I had been recovering well. And the next race on my calendar was two months away, so why not go for it?

Still, I wanted to be smart about my effort.

As runners gathered for the start, I decided to set up behind the 1:40 pace group so that I would not go out too fast. I planned to do the first mile at an 8:30 pace, especially since the first quarter-mile was one of the four uphill sections. After that, if I felt good, I would aim for a 7:30 pace.

The first mile clocked in around 8 minutes flat. I revved up my engines and settled in to a pace around 7:30, where I stayed fairly consistently until the final mile when I hit 7:10, my quickest mile.

The course — which is very well marked and staffed more than adequately by volunteers — takes runners around downtown Mount Dora, through various neighborhoods and around its lake. As someone who is new to the area, there were plenty of things to see – festive shops, friendly residents and the serene lake. In fact, about midway through the race, a group of carolers serenaded the runners from a porch overlooking the course.

About the time I hit the third hill climb around Mile 4, I had closed in on the 1:40 pace group. By the time my Garmin signaled Mile 5 I had comfortably passed them. The next time I would see them would be during the out-and-back section that was roughly Miles 9.5 to 11.5

One final climb

Originally, I had planned to eat a Honey Stinger waffle at Mile 10 and wash it down with Gatorade or water at the Mile 11 aid station, giving my body a boost before the final climb at Mile 12. However, my stomach was a tad uneasy so I skipped the waffle and used the liquid hydration to get me through. (The race had aid stations at Miles 1, 3, 5, 7, 9, 10 and 11.)

I felt really strong going up the final climb at Mile 12, feeling confident about at PR. I broke away from one runner and caught a second one as we crested the hill. I offered him a dose of encouragement and continued to push hard.

With all the climbs of note behind me, I was greatly looking forward to the slight descent toward the finish. At this point, I knew that I would PR — the question would be by how much.

As I re-entered downtown Mount Dora, it was fun to see the holiday-decorated stores in daylight. I made one final turn and headed to Santa and the finish line. Remember that quarter-mile climb at the beginning? That turns into a much-deserved quarter-mile descent at the finish.

It was great to see the race director manning the PA system at the finish line, cheering runners in. It’s always fulfilling to hear the race announcer welcome you to the finish, especially when he raves about your hard pace and strong finish at the end.

I crossed the line at 1:38:00, nearly two minutes faster than my previous PR set just over a month ago. Overall, I finished 45th out of more than 1,300 runners who had signed up.

Post-race treats

After crossing the finish line, runners received their medals and a bottle of water. Outside the finishers chute was a post-race area for celebrating, reuniting with family and friends, and cooling down.

Dunkin Donuts provided donut holes, coffee and hot chocolate to runners. Another table offered bananas, oranges and a small bakery item. (I have to admit with all the Christmas decorations abound, I was a little surprised that there was not such a theme to the post-race spread — like candy canes.)

Conclusion

I really enjoyed my time at the Mount Dora half marathon. My only wish is that I was actually able to spend more time in Mount Dora. Due to my travel and work schedule, I drove in early race day and left shortly after the race.

Even so I am really glad that I was able to participate in the race. It was executed perfectly on basically every level that matters to me. I may not find myself in central Florida again in mid-December. But if I do, I will be signing up for the Mount Dora half marathon again.

The American River 50 proved itself to be an epic race, an ultra where mid-packers and back-of-the-packers can literally line up and run next to well-known ultra runners. The course offers beautiful scenery, enthusiastic volunteers and a 3-mile uphill climb at the end of the race.

The AR50 was my first 50-miler and one I would recommend to others looking for their firsts finish at that distance. (The event also offers a 25-mile distance.)

I arrived in Folsom the day before the race and easily picked up my bib at the expo. The expo was at the back of a running store. No frills but helpful volunteers who answered a couple of questions.

On race day, there were several options runners had for getting to and from the start and finish lines of the point-to-point course. I chose to park at the finish and take the shuttle to the start. There I met John and his friend, also John, and we chatted and shivered as we waited for the race to start. (One of the few recommendations I would make to race organizers would be to have some sort of heat available at the start for the runners as we waited for an or so.)

The race start area has plenty of port-a-pots for the gathering runners. The race also offered drop bags for the finish line and a handful of aid stations. We loaded up clearly labeled trucks with our drop bags. Even though I parked at the finish, I needed a drop bag to stash the sweatshirt I was wearing.

The race began in Brown’s Ravine Marina at Folsom Lake State Recreation Area in the Sierra-Nevada Foothills. We started with a slight uphill out of the parking lot, then entered the trail just under a mile from the start.

As we jockeyed for position on the single track trail, I immediately recognized Catra Corbett, a colorful and inspiring ultra runner. She was talking with another runner and I passed them after a mile or so when the trail widened.

I can think of no other sport in which amateurs can participate with elites and sponsored athletes. I was far from Zach Bitter, who finished second overall, by that point but was emboldened by my brush with fame, even if I missed Truman. (He did escort Corbett to the finish line.)


A few miles later, we left the trails and hit the roads for most of the rest of the first half of the race.

Around Mile 19, as we were passing a lake, the runner about 100 feet ahead of me pointed toward the lake. As I reached that same spot and looked over to see a bald eagle perched on a tree branch. What could be more American than seeing him there? I also pointed to the eagle so the runners trailing me could see the majestic bird.

The 25-mile aid station is at a small park where many families and onlookers had gathered to cheer, fuel and meet their runners. This was also a place where 50-milers could pick up their pacers. This was an ideal spot to stop and use the park's very clean restrooms.

The second half of the race was nearly exclusively on trails. We passed by interesting names — Buzzards Cove, Horseshoe Bar and Rattlesnake Bar — but those last two were not pubs. Instead, they were named for sand bars where miners would pan gold. On this day, the only riches to be found there were friendly aid station volunteers, cold drinks and food.

I made quick work of aid stations. Getting in, having a volunteer refill my water bottles, downing some calories and taking off with a “thank you volunteers.”

For such a long race, I felt pretty good throughout. There were definitely periods of walking, especially on the uphills. And there were times when I wished that the aid stations were closer but there were plenty of them and all were well organized.

Toward the end of the race, we were greeted by a sign: Cardiac Hill Trail. No kidding.

The race is known for its final three miles, which represent a long climb — my Strava shows a roughly 900-foot steady climb over the last section. There are parts that are runnable, but runnable after more than 46 miles is a relative term.

Race organizers placed mile markers and inspirational signs along the final three miles to help us make the final push. And a crowd gathered to cheer on every runner as they made the final push to the finish line in Auburn. “This is a long way to come for a party,” I called out as I acknowledged the onlookers.

As I passed them, it was about a quarter-mile to the finish line where more crowd support and emcee and ultra runner Don Freeman welcomed every finisher.

Overall, there was about 4,600 feet of total elevation change. I finished in 10:13:12, a solid 122nd overall out of 536, and 33rd out of 102 in my age group.

When I had first signed up for the race, I was motivated by the Patagonia fleece that each finished received. At the finish line, we were presented with the fleece and a medal, which helped me realize what I had just accomplished: finishing a 50-mile race.

I had time to chew on that as I made quick work of some of the post-race food, including a burger, chips and beer. And for the first time, I took advantage of a post-race massage offered by a local group.

The massage, combined with other treatment — foam rolling, elevating legs, wearing compression gear — helped my recovery immensely. Sure, I was sore for the next day or so but all things considered my recovery seemed a lot quicker than I had envisioned.

Overall, the atmosphere at this race was the friendliest I have ever experienced. It’s another reason why I am embracing the ultra and trail running community. There seems to be more openness, a stronger community among trail runners.

After all, when you are running, walking and slogging through 50 miles, it’s reassuring to bond with others enduring the same thing.

And wearing that Patagonia fleece brought a smile to my face and thoughts about my next ultra, yet to be determined. But I know I want it to be just as epic as the American River 50.

The Bel Monte Endurance Races offer a 25K, 50K and 50-miler for those wanting to explore beautiful mountains in northern Virginia.
Technically — and it is a pretty technical course, but more on that later — the 50K is a 17-mile out-and-back course, meaning runners will do closer to a 55K by the time they cross the finish line. (The turnaround point for the 50-miler was at 26.2 miles.)

It was my longest race to date, and my Garmin actually counted 34.8 miles. The course is absolutely beautiful and challenging, with nearly 5,000 feet of elevation change. It was my final long run before my first 50-miler and the hills, terrain and time on feet helped me prepare for the next challenge three weeks later.

The Bel Monte race is produced by Bad to the Bone, which organizes various races, including the Ultra Race of Champions. The staff and volunteers are great, the course is exceptionally well-marked and there is helpful communication on the website, Facebook page and via emails. There was only one time when I wasn't sure which direction to head until I saw a large white arrow on the ground. A runner I met near the finish did go quite a bit off-course but this was a rarity for the nearly 100 runners in the 50K.

The race began at the Royal Oaks Resort in Lyndhurst, Va., about a two-hour drive from Richmond. Given the March weather in that part of the world, I was prepared for anything. There was no precipitation but race morning was cold — 14 degree real-feel temperature at the 6 a.m. start.

Thankfully the race crew provided a campfire for runners and their families as the race director went over the course markings, aid stations and other pre-race information.

While the Bel Monte race is well-organized, it can also be somewhat relaxed. There was no real start line. After the race instructions, we walked up the gravel driveway toward the road until someone yelled, “Go!”

From there it was an up-and-down two-mile run along a road, leading to the trail.

Immediately after hitting the trail, we were greeted by a series of roots, large rocks and other obstacles that wanted to wreak havoc with our feet. Around 3.5 miles into the race, I caught my foot and went down, landing thigh first on an unforgiving rock. “Oh, good,” I thought to myself, “only 30 more miles to go with a bruised thigh.”

That section of trail quickly led to a climb just steep enough for a power hike. There were intermittent flat sections where we could return to a run but we walked for about a mile until we reached the first aid station, which only offered water.

The next aid station, at mile 7, was fully stocked with water, colas, electrolytes, various types of fruit, salty items, candy and friendly volunteers. “The next section is completely runnable until you get to the next aid station in seven miles,” one of them advised.

Immediately after leaving the aid station, runners headed downhill via a series of switchbacks for the next two miles. It was challenging terrain to run on, given the small, loose rocks that were on the downhill — and also the 25K leaders who were walking up the switchbacks as I descended.

Once I was clear of the switchbacks — and the 25Kers, whose turnaround point was shortly after the downhill — the course flattened out and was indeed very runnable.

At the Mile 14 aid station, I wolfed down a couple of peanut butter and jelly tortillas — I really appreciated the gluten-free tortilla options — and headed to the turnaround point. The three miles to the halfway point were on a minimally traveled paved road that included a series of hills.

I didn’t spend much time at the 17-mile aid station, knowing that more PB&J tortillas were waiting for me three miles ahead. I caught up with another runner there and we decided to run together. For the next five miles or so, we took turns leading each other through the runnable section. As we approached the switchbacks, he had gotten out in front of me.

Then we hit a slow climb up the switchbacks, from roughly mile 25 to 27. It was brutal. But powering through on tired legs is what I wanted most out of this race, given that it was a training run for my upcoming 50-mile race at the American River 50.

We had caught up to a group of other runners, er walkers, going up the hill. My previous running partner was in front and I was walking behind two other racers. At this point, I decided that I was going to get out of the aid station at the top of the mountain as fast as possible. So I decided to take in some nutrition as we were power-hiking. I made quick work of some peanut M&Ms and downed them with some Tailwind Nutrition that I was carrying.

As we finally made it to the top, I grabbed some more bites at the aid station — before leaving as quickly as possible. As I left, an aid station volunteer called out, “Only two climbs to go — one trail, one road.” During the next seven miles, I alternated running when I could and walking the uphill sections. (OK, there was some walking on flat ground, too.)

At the finish line, there were plenty of volunteers, other runners and supporters who cheered me and all the other finishers. The finish line area was small but well-supported — the bonfire was still going strong, and there was lasagna, pretzels, candy, fruit and various drinks available.

My finishing time was exactly 7:03, coming in 10th place out of 89 runners.

I would absolutely do this race again — maybe the 50-miler — and would recommend it to anyone looking for a scenic yet challenging ultra.