The castle walls were lit by the fiery engines of the generators. Their droning hum grew louder as I approached in the blackness. Little lights like firefly's sat atop the heads of the runners gathered and waiting, darting this way and that, putting on layers and taking them off and chattering incessantly with each other and their crews and families.
I said goodbye to my crew and made my way to the line and we were off. Running through a field at 5 am in Cleveland Ohio from Squire's Castle, we would run a series of trails and connecting roads to Cuyahoga Falls (Akron).
The mood was tense and few spoke but churned forward with our sloshing bottles packs onto what seemed to be a horse trail. The fairly smooth surface allowed for a quick pace and runners including myself jostled for position.Three miles into the race I said to myself "You have got to be kidding me." I certainly know better, we all do.
On the uphills I found my Chi running technique most beneficial. This sideways, cross step, arm swing gait is a tremendous leg saver at low speed and over long distances. I found I could use this technique where others would walk, doubling their speed using half the energy.
At mile 5 or so there was a split in the road and a female runner and I turned towards each other and in unison said "Which way?" A lead group had broken away but then it was us and some 70 or more people behind us. I chose the right fork. Unfortunately at this point, we were already off course. After several stops and starts and "Which ways" and "This ways," I figure we added about a mile but for me it was a blessing. Because at this point I relaxed, settled into a comfortable pace, saw the folly and the humor and the joy all at once. And like pulling up to a nice big meal when very, very hungry, I was ready to dig in.
We came out of the loop that had encircled the castle, 6 plus miles (maybe 7 for us) at about day break. We then made our way through beautiful and majestic mature trees, the trail meandering. The day revealed cloud cover and it started to rain. It was a wonderful cool summer rain. I worked through the aid stations. My crew continued to surprise me by being at aid stations I had not anticipated seeing them.
This race had an element I, to date, had not experienced, a truly professional crew. By professional I mean, three individuals who were ultras and who knew exactly what was going on. Ben and Liz Pickle, and ultra-friend Ben Vanhoose are a picture of selfless-kindness and embody the spirit of the Ultra in my opinion. Seeing them at the polo fields, the rain had turned to giant splashy drops. The green forest smelled of new growth and fresh earthen fragrances. I passed through the aid station stopping only at their vehicle to change bottles and get some nutrition (no caffeine for the first 50 miles).
From here I worked forward as the terrain changed, more rocky now, creek crossings, and I followed a runner in a Notre Dame shirt for what seemed like endless miles. I don't know why it struck me as odd but I had never seen an ultra runner wearing a team shirt like this. I just kept reading the same words, Notre Dame again. After a while they sound funny in your head.
From here we came out for a long stretch on the road where there were several hills that at the time made me very thankful for the countless lunchtime runs with my Swiftwick mates up and over the green hills of Brentwood and Franklin. I felt strong as I came into mile 26 aid station. I was relaxed, sat in a chair and greeted by my crew and changed out of my K 3's and into my (Roy's) Bajadas. But refused a change of socks, my 12 inch white Swiftwick Aspires felt so good even wet that I decided to continue on in them.
Another element of Chi or effortless running is utilizing your core and upper legs while relaxing your calfs. Theory being that you can in essence use no more energy than that which is used walking at a low rate of speed running. It was working... to this point.
I remember very little about miles 30 to 50. I know it got hot as I came out of the woods at one point on a crushed gravel path that followed a winding river, I believe this was mile 50 and the path was the Tow path used by early settlers or something historic. The heat and the humidity threatened to suffocate. I turned my white Swiftwick hat around, breathed through my nose and continued on, jumping over the small patches of shade as it would creep across the path. It was here that I passed a runner, a prostrated soul, arms dangling, drenched in sweat, heaving and wheezing. He was cooked and it was early. I passed and said "Good job" and then kept moving.
At 54 I would pick up my first pacer. I anticipated seeing my friends as I heard the hoots and hollers from around the bend.
Liz section:
Mrs. Liz Pickle stepped up to take the first leg of pacing duties. I was still quite cognisant and able to joke a bit. We chatted and clicked miles off. As we exited the aid station and I had enjoyed my first caffeine / red bull of the day, I expelled a massive burp. And to this I told Liz that I would not be responsible for any noises that came out of me from this time forward. She laughed and commented "What happens on the trail, stays on the trails". We worked through the heat of the day, the beautiful trail and her positive outlook kept me from self pity as now I was well over 60 miles. One runner of particular note leap-frogged back and forth with me and eventually ran many miles with us. She was from NY, an architect, her boyfriend was there but was not running. She ran without food or drink except a small bottle. I did not think her long for the race. Still we trudged on, making it to about 65 where Ben, Liz's husband - the captain of our merry band would meet us. She did really well in the end.
Ben Pickle section:
Ben Pickle is solid, in his words and deeds. He does not hesitate. As a pacer this instills great confidence in a salt covered, half naked runner. I had continually turned down my pack which I had promised myself I would wear, desiring to carry as little as possible. Two hand helds and a gel in my shorts. Ben had miles 65 to 80. And we worked through the late afternoon and into the evening. I recall coming upon a giant corn field and hearing a low murmur of an engine. Out of nowhere a massive tractor three stories tall with 75 feet of sprayer emerged, almost crushing Ben and I. At the time neither of us spoke of it nor altered our step. One of the key principles of this particular race that I wanted to embody was pulling both highs and lows to the middle. The sun was starting to fail as the shadows grew, we exited the field passing several now walking runners. Soon we were at mile 80 where Mr Ben Vanhoose would take on pacing for the last 20 miles. We arrived at the covered bridge with lights still in the sky. Christmas lights were hung in a swinging fashion from the rafters. I recall a powerful moment. I stood drinking a red bull still feeling good, staring at a runner splayed out laying on the ground with a towel on his bald head. It was the last 20 miles, now this was a contest as before a traverse. I had steadily passed individuals at mile 60 knowing that I had started much slower than most. Here we go. Ben also had some magical 100 mg caffeine gels that he administered like a Dr. they helped in a pinch more than a few times. I also lost my ability to keep track of how often I was taking in S-Caps. Thanks to my crew for taking this on.
Ben Vanhoose section:
This would be the most difficult section of the race according to Ben. It is good to get to run some of it in the light. He was right. Gnarled roots and fairly steep inclines relentlessly came turn after turn. All I could think though was how I felt at mile 80 of Tahoe's 100 and what laid ahead there. I am sure a thin lipped smile crept across my face. We worked into the night and my headlamp failed as always, Ben and I traded. I vacillated from pain to perseverance. We made it through the sketchy section, popping out on the road. But were far from safe as we passed an amphitheater where a concert was letting out. Running the road with no shoulder and cars passing. I was repeatedly ready to jump into the ditch.
I recall Ben telling me at one particular low point, "I'm gonna need a little more from you." This struck a chord with me and I was determined to answer. I knew what he meant, I had been threatening to walk, and I had more to give... it just hurt to give it, but the truth was... I needed to let it hurt, suck it up and keep running.
We made it to the Tow path and an aid station where a man in a coconut bra asked me how I feeling. I am not sure I had words to answer but mumbled something about keeping on. We made it to the many flights of forest stairs at mile 90 something. And luckily the rails allowed me to use my arms to pull myself up. I was passed by a runner at the top of the stairs, with about 2 miles to go. We popped out on the road one mile out. Ben and Liz Pickle jumped out and we all headed in as planned for the last mile together on the road. With 3/4 mile or so to go we hit a large hill. In the distance I saw the runner who passed me... he was walking. I was filled with heat and uttered the words "I can catch him". Without forethought but in an instant I was churning up the hill. Breathing heavily, throwing everything I had into a final kick. As we neared him, all of us running, flying through the streets of Cuyahoga Falls, Liz shouted "We are going to catch him!" But to me he was quarry and we were not to alert the prey yet. Ten steps later, his light turned abruptly into my face and he started trying to run but I passed him as if he was standing still. He said "I've got nothing for that!" I was by in a blur. My legs screaming, alarms, bells, whistles, going off in my brain. My pain sensors overridden, full-on tunnel vision. The finish now in sight. Ben P. said, "That sign, the red numbers, at the end of the street. That's it, that's the finish"
I felt the rush and sound of wind of the three souls that ran with me and I no longer felt my legs but churned to and through the finish in 19 hours and 44 minutes for 15th ovrl. Later Ben V's watch read 7:23 pace for our final mile.
I was a lost and lecherous fool , Christ saved me and... I am now saved.
Thanks Swiftwick and Fleet Feet Nashville - I am honored to have such legit sponsors who rule.
I wore the same pair of socks for the entire race - Swiftwick Aspire white 12's. NO BLISTERS.
Jadyn M. Stevens
 |
| Ready Set Go Go Go!!!!!!!! |
I said goodbye to my crew and made my way to the line and we were off. Running through a field at 5 am in Cleveland Ohio from Squire's Castle, we would run a series of trails and connecting roads to Cuyahoga Falls (Akron).
The mood was tense and few spoke but churned forward with our sloshing bottles packs onto what seemed to be a horse trail. The fairly smooth surface allowed for a quick pace and runners including myself jostled for position.Three miles into the race I said to myself "You have got to be kidding me." I certainly know better, we all do.
On the uphills I found my Chi running technique most beneficial. This sideways, cross step, arm swing gait is a tremendous leg saver at low speed and over long distances. I found I could use this technique where others would walk, doubling their speed using half the energy.
At mile 5 or so there was a split in the road and a female runner and I turned towards each other and in unison said "Which way?" A lead group had broken away but then it was us and some 70 or more people behind us. I chose the right fork. Unfortunately at this point, we were already off course. After several stops and starts and "Which ways" and "This ways," I figure we added about a mile but for me it was a blessing. Because at this point I relaxed, settled into a comfortable pace, saw the folly and the humor and the joy all at once. And like pulling up to a nice big meal when very, very hungry, I was ready to dig in.
We came out of the loop that had encircled the castle, 6 plus miles (maybe 7 for us) at about day break. We then made our way through beautiful and majestic mature trees, the trail meandering. The day revealed cloud cover and it started to rain. It was a wonderful cool summer rain. I worked through the aid stations. My crew continued to surprise me by being at aid stations I had not anticipated seeing them.
This race had an element I, to date, had not experienced, a truly professional crew. By professional I mean, three individuals who were ultras and who knew exactly what was going on. Ben and Liz Pickle, and ultra-friend Ben Vanhoose are a picture of selfless-kindness and embody the spirit of the Ultra in my opinion. Seeing them at the polo fields, the rain had turned to giant splashy drops. The green forest smelled of new growth and fresh earthen fragrances. I passed through the aid station stopping only at their vehicle to change bottles and get some nutrition (no caffeine for the first 50 miles).
 |
| humid conditions but great support on course |
From here I worked forward as the terrain changed, more rocky now, creek crossings, and I followed a runner in a Notre Dame shirt for what seemed like endless miles. I don't know why it struck me as odd but I had never seen an ultra runner wearing a team shirt like this. I just kept reading the same words, Notre Dame again. After a while they sound funny in your head.
From here we came out for a long stretch on the road where there were several hills that at the time made me very thankful for the countless lunchtime runs with my Swiftwick mates up and over the green hills of Brentwood and Franklin. I felt strong as I came into mile 26 aid station. I was relaxed, sat in a chair and greeted by my crew and changed out of my K 3's and into my (Roy's) Bajadas. But refused a change of socks, my 12 inch white Swiftwick Aspires felt so good even wet that I decided to continue on in them.
 |
| Mr. Ben Vanhoose makes sure I keep my aid station visits brief but never do I leave lacking. |
Another element of Chi or effortless running is utilizing your core and upper legs while relaxing your calfs. Theory being that you can in essence use no more energy than that which is used walking at a low rate of speed running. It was working... to this point.
 |
| Note the incredible aid station dress |
I remember very little about miles 30 to 50. I know it got hot as I came out of the woods at one point on a crushed gravel path that followed a winding river, I believe this was mile 50 and the path was the Tow path used by early settlers or something historic. The heat and the humidity threatened to suffocate. I turned my white Swiftwick hat around, breathed through my nose and continued on, jumping over the small patches of shade as it would creep across the path. It was here that I passed a runner, a prostrated soul, arms dangling, drenched in sweat, heaving and wheezing. He was cooked and it was early. I passed and said "Good job" and then kept moving.
At 54 I would pick up my first pacer. I anticipated seeing my friends as I heard the hoots and hollers from around the bend.
 |
| Liz and I working through some middle miles |
Mrs. Liz Pickle stepped up to take the first leg of pacing duties. I was still quite cognisant and able to joke a bit. We chatted and clicked miles off. As we exited the aid station and I had enjoyed my first caffeine / red bull of the day, I expelled a massive burp. And to this I told Liz that I would not be responsible for any noises that came out of me from this time forward. She laughed and commented "What happens on the trail, stays on the trails". We worked through the heat of the day, the beautiful trail and her positive outlook kept me from self pity as now I was well over 60 miles. One runner of particular note leap-frogged back and forth with me and eventually ran many miles with us. She was from NY, an architect, her boyfriend was there but was not running. She ran without food or drink except a small bottle. I did not think her long for the race. Still we trudged on, making it to about 65 where Ben, Liz's husband - the captain of our merry band would meet us. She did really well in the end.
 |
Ben Pickle section:
Ben Pickle is solid, in his words and deeds. He does not hesitate. As a pacer this instills great confidence in a salt covered, half naked runner. I had continually turned down my pack which I had promised myself I would wear, desiring to carry as little as possible. Two hand helds and a gel in my shorts. Ben had miles 65 to 80. And we worked through the late afternoon and into the evening. I recall coming upon a giant corn field and hearing a low murmur of an engine. Out of nowhere a massive tractor three stories tall with 75 feet of sprayer emerged, almost crushing Ben and I. At the time neither of us spoke of it nor altered our step. One of the key principles of this particular race that I wanted to embody was pulling both highs and lows to the middle. The sun was starting to fail as the shadows grew, we exited the field passing several now walking runners. Soon we were at mile 80 where Mr Ben Vanhoose would take on pacing for the last 20 miles. We arrived at the covered bridge with lights still in the sky. Christmas lights were hung in a swinging fashion from the rafters. I recall a powerful moment. I stood drinking a red bull still feeling good, staring at a runner splayed out laying on the ground with a towel on his bald head. It was the last 20 miles, now this was a contest as before a traverse. I had steadily passed individuals at mile 60 knowing that I had started much slower than most. Here we go. Ben also had some magical 100 mg caffeine gels that he administered like a Dr. they helped in a pinch more than a few times. I also lost my ability to keep track of how often I was taking in S-Caps. Thanks to my crew for taking this on.
Ben Vanhoose section:
This would be the most difficult section of the race according to Ben. It is good to get to run some of it in the light. He was right. Gnarled roots and fairly steep inclines relentlessly came turn after turn. All I could think though was how I felt at mile 80 of Tahoe's 100 and what laid ahead there. I am sure a thin lipped smile crept across my face. We worked into the night and my headlamp failed as always, Ben and I traded. I vacillated from pain to perseverance. We made it through the sketchy section, popping out on the road. But were far from safe as we passed an amphitheater where a concert was letting out. Running the road with no shoulder and cars passing. I was repeatedly ready to jump into the ditch.
I recall Ben telling me at one particular low point, "I'm gonna need a little more from you." This struck a chord with me and I was determined to answer. I knew what he meant, I had been threatening to walk, and I had more to give... it just hurt to give it, but the truth was... I needed to let it hurt, suck it up and keep running.
We made it to the Tow path and an aid station where a man in a coconut bra asked me how I feeling. I am not sure I had words to answer but mumbled something about keeping on. We made it to the many flights of forest stairs at mile 90 something. And luckily the rails allowed me to use my arms to pull myself up. I was passed by a runner at the top of the stairs, with about 2 miles to go. We popped out on the road one mile out. Ben and Liz Pickle jumped out and we all headed in as planned for the last mile together on the road. With 3/4 mile or so to go we hit a large hill. In the distance I saw the runner who passed me... he was walking. I was filled with heat and uttered the words "I can catch him". Without forethought but in an instant I was churning up the hill. Breathing heavily, throwing everything I had into a final kick. As we neared him, all of us running, flying through the streets of Cuyahoga Falls, Liz shouted "We are going to catch him!" But to me he was quarry and we were not to alert the prey yet. Ten steps later, his light turned abruptly into my face and he started trying to run but I passed him as if he was standing still. He said "I've got nothing for that!" I was by in a blur. My legs screaming, alarms, bells, whistles, going off in my brain. My pain sensors overridden, full-on tunnel vision. The finish now in sight. Ben P. said, "That sign, the red numbers, at the end of the street. That's it, that's the finish"
 |
| uphill push to finish |
I felt the rush and sound of wind of the three souls that ran with me and I no longer felt my legs but churned to and through the finish in 19 hours and 44 minutes for 15th ovrl. Later Ben V's watch read 7:23 pace for our final mile.
 |
| so close I can taste it! |
 |
| finished thank you Jesus. |
I was a lost and lecherous fool , Christ saved me and... I am now saved.
Thanks Swiftwick and Fleet Feet Nashville - I am honored to have such legit sponsors who rule.
I wore the same pair of socks for the entire race - Swiftwick Aspire white 12's. NO BLISTERS.
Jadyn M. Stevens
