‘Twas the night before Mountain Mist, my “jacket year.” As usual, I’ve run the course in my mind repeatedly all week. I think about the finish line hugs to come tomorrow and the opportunity to see friends I only see once a year at this family reunion.
Mostly, I’m thinking about the tiny little nail I put on my wall last January and how it’s sat empty with nothing hanging on it for 12 months. Under normal circumstances, this would drive me crazy. Instead, it has served as motivation and a constant reminder. Tomorrow it will hold that highly coveted 10th hand-painted slate. This year’s design is a nod to a true standout in our trail running community that we lost a few years ago, making it even more meaningful. I’ve made several dumb mistakes during these 300+ race miles, specifically one that lives in infamy. But I’ve made many excellent choices too. After 10 years, I think I finally have this thing figured out!
Race Day!
Each race day begins with the anxiety (excitement?) of trying to pick just the right place to line up, and the instant relief I feel when I hear that shotgun blast. I don’t think much about the first 11 miles of the race other than the warm-up, settling in, and finding my place. Imagine a conga line of about 500 people on mostly single track. I enjoy that first little “let ‘er rip” down Warpath, and the uniqueness of going through the giant rocks at mile 10, Stone Cuts. This is where my mind fast-forwards to the upcoming descent into Oak Park, mile 14.
I open up here and let loose on the Buzzard’s Roost downhill, sometimes a bit too much. I can’t hold back though, as it’s one of my favorite trails. It’s difficult leaving the Oak Park aid station because so many of my friends volunteer here. It’s always a quick hello, thank you, and scram. I power through the first substantial climb back to the top of the mountain, which I love. Many grumble about how much they HATE it, which says a lot about how I like to take my suffering!
This series leads up to my favorite 6-mile stretch- the Land Trust trails. Miles 17 – 24. (Note: runner math is approximate. There’s a lot of “ish” involved.) I’ve run this section hundreds of times over the years- High Trail, the technical descent on Bluffline, a little flat part where a lot of people start walking wearily to the mile 18 aid station, then all the light tiptoeing there is to do on Old Railroad Bed. ORRB is not my strong point, but I remind myself it’s very short and super scenic, rich with Huntsville history.
Continuing down through Alms House, you’re spit out somewhere near mile 23 at Three Caves. You sense that yet again, you’re back at the bottom of the mountain which only means one thing: quads are about to crush it or cry, depending on choices made (or not made) before race day! You’ve also now experienced the buildup to the indisputable highlight of the Mountain Mist course: Waterline. You either love it or you don’t. Some save it for race day only, and some of us love it so much we willingly do repeats as a training run!
Cursing is Involved
This is the point in the course that I always think of the year I caught up with two ladies from out of town while toddling through Alms House. They were very vocal about being done. Done, done… as in DNF. Cussing the entire mountain and everyone on it. They didn’t realize what they’d signed up for, and I debated telling them about the nearly mile-long, very technical 14% grade climb with a little hand-over-foot action they’d have to endure to get to the Burritt aid station where they could drop. I hope they’re ok.
Once you reach Trough Springs around mile 25, you’re about to experience what some refer to as “the longest 10k of your life.” A bit dramatic, however, I’ve found that to be accurate at times!
I think about the part of Natural Well where it’s possible to make up time, as it’s truly “runnable” if your legs aren’t totally cooked yet. This eroded section boasts a healthy washout nicknamed “SOB ditch.” I think of all the times I cursed the Natural Well descent, called it a hellscape, and deemed it un-runnable. That is, until a few summers ago when I did so many Dismal repeats that I’ve actually grown to embrace it. I’ve stopped wishing it would wash off the side of the mountain.
Hit the little Crybaby Hill at mile 28, make it through Slush Mile, and you can taste the beer and chili at the top of Rest Shelter.
Mountain Mist Mental Miles
I love the last grueling climb up to the plateau, and how much the excitement builds here, knowing there’s one more aid station and a truly FLAT 1.4 miles to the finish. It’s here I always wonder if I have enough gas in the tank to run all of it with minimal walking. I always think of the lady I passed while climbing here several years ago, who was crying. I assured her it truly is a flat run to the finish, and the course was a true 31.1 without running long. She tearfully said, “Please don’t lie to me.” To this day, I wonder if she ever came back to run Mist again.
I think of the Mountain Mist finish line music blasting across the plateau, You can hear it about a mile away, along with the cheering of friends and family. The last mile is mental, you’ve survived. From that point, it’s all about experiencing everything you’ve craved for a year since the last time you crossed the (timing) mat.
I intended to write a little post about how much FUN we have, but it took a turn towards a full-on essay. I’m fine with that because the experience cannot be condensed. Hopefully, I’ve done a great job selling the suffering that can be Mountain Mist. I can promise you, it’s one of the most joyful and rewarding finish lines I’ve ever crossed. Tomorrow I might get my first sub-7. I might not. Either way, it’s still one of the best bad decisions ever.
EDITOR’S NOTE: Lindsey Shady of Huntsville is a veteran ultra runner with numerous 100-mile, 50K and other finishes under her tiny belt and big buckle. She is VP of Programs for the Huntsville Track club. Shady wrote this Facebook post and graciously allowed TVO to print it.
