Philadelphia Trail Marathon - April 11, 2026

 

Beautiful Park on a Perfect Day

Finally this year I was able to run the Philadelphia Trail Marathon in Wissahickon Park. I'd run the race twice, but 2020 was virtual (on the Greenway Trail) and 2021 was in Pennypack Park due to storm damage.

Me, Emaad and Leigh Ann awaiting the start.

Emaad and I meet Leigh Ann at the start/finish at Houston Playground . Shortly thereafter, Beth and Eric arrive.  They are doing the half marathon which is one loop - the marathon is two loops of the course.  Despite my best efforts to persuade her that "training is bunk" she decided she wasn't ready for an early Spring marathon.  Now, at the start but too late she is regretting her choice.

Thomas Mill Bridge

Loop One

We start on the dot of 8 a.m. (The half marathoners start an hour later.)  I stay with Emaad and Leigh Ann for a mile or so, but soon they pull away and are gone. In about 1.3 miles the course crosses Wissahickon Creek on a red Thomas Mill covered bridge. The trails are up and down and rocky and rooty, so one much pay attention to the footing.  There is a flight of steep stone steps, to be navigated and a couple of large (six foot?)  diameter drainage? sewage? pipes that one must run along (no railings). 

I run with Tim, attempting his second marathon for a bit and tell him all my usual stories.  About mile 6.4 we cross Blue Stone Bridge to head back toward the start/finish on the other side of the creek.  This side is not quite as hilly as the other. We skirt the Walnut Lane Golf Course.

Looking back at the steep stone steps.

I get ahead of Tim and torment a pair of women runners with my timeworn stories before abandoning them and going ahead.  And soon the leaders of the half marathon begin to catch up with us, despite our hour head start.  

With less than a mile to go to the end of the first loop, the trail turns unexpectedly steep upward.  While I expected to have to go up, the steepness of the trail is surprising.

Loop Two

I look forward to changing my long-sleeved shirt for a short-sleeved one, but although the start/finish line is in sight, the second loop starts about a tenth of a mile short of there. No great inconvenience, but I will have to wear my long-sleeved, with the sleeves pushed up, for the second loop.

About a half mile into the second loop Tim catches up and passes me.  For the rest of the second loop I will not see a single runner in the race.  The half marathoners are finished, obviously. It turns out that there are five runners behind me: the two women I briefly chatted with and three others.  None will finish within 20 minutes of me.

But there are a lot of other people out in the park, strolling, fishing (with beers in hand), foraging (collecting some sort of leaves that only can be harvested when tender in the spring), rock climbing (at Mom Rinker's Rock), walking a cat in a harness, running, mountain biking, and otherwise enjoying a pleasant day.

Mom Rinker's Rock

While the environment is pleasant, my mind is not at rest. I'm concerned about making the eight hour cut-off, which didn't seem like much of a worry before the race. But it took me 3:24 to get through the first loop, and I figure that if I slow down on the second loop, as is usually the case, I won't make it.  If fact, I have 4:36 to do it in, but my mind isn't doing arithmetic well (it is one of the first mental capacities to go on a longer trail run). to  With ten miles to go I pull out my phone and use the calculator to compute the pace I must maintain to beat the cutoff.  At the same time I text Emaad of my concerns, and text Beth that I won't finish in the time I originally told her so that she doesn't wait around unnecessarily.  The pace is doable.  I repeat the exercise at each mile and am reassured that it remains the same or gets slower.  Finally, at mile 25, the required pace is in excess of 50 minutes/mile.  Even with the steep climb to come, I know I've got it.

As I cross the finish line and collect my AG Wetterhaus award, Emaad, Leigh Ann, Beth and Eric are waiting for me.  But even with the cheering section anxious to get on to refreshments, I have to pause, take a seat and tell the finish line volunteers the tale of how RD Stephan came to recognize that 70+ was not part off the 60-69 age group and created a new AG category of 70+.

Along the creek.

My story concluded, we head off to the Chestnut Hill Brewing Company for post-race refreshments.  Leigh Ann is heading off for dinner with husband Ron, and Beth and Eric are planning dinner, so only Emaad and I have something to eat, sharing fries and a pizza.  The other four have beer, but since I'm driving Emaad and I back to Maryland I opt for iced tea.  I have four glasses, apparently thirsty from my run.

Results

I finish in 7:25:30, my fears of missing the eight-hour cut-off woefully misplaced.  I'm 162 0f 167 overall, 118 of 119 males, and first and only in my age group.  I'm the oldest finisher by eight years.

Emaad and Leigh Ann finish together in 6:51. Tim, who passed me early on the second loop, finished his first marathon just two minutes ahead of me, and we shook hands at the finish.

Swab: Shirt, Medal, Bib and AG winner Wetterhaus.

Farm Park Challenge Marathon - May 4, 2024

Bigfoot, or bare foot, or little Bigfoot?

Century!

I ran my first marathon, the now-defunct Frederick Marathon, on April 30, 2006. Today, completion of the Farm Park Challenge Marathon marks my 100th marathon or longer race. More details below, but let's get to the sloppy details first.

Weather or Not

The forecast for race day remains unsettled as the day approaches.  The probably of showers yo-yos up and down but never disappears. Temperatures are predicted in the low 50s. It sounds like perfectly miserable running conditions.  But registration remains open until 1159 Thursday evening, so I wait to hear the 11 p.m. TV weather forecast before making a final decision. When the forecaster says that he does not think Saturday will be a rain-out, I sign up. Showers are manageable.  And I had run FPC in 2022 under similar conditions, so I knew what to expect and how to prepare.

Repeat five times.

I bring three bags: one with dry clothes and a towel for when I'm finished, one with four shirts and hats, three buffs, a pair of socks and towels for in-race changes, and an empty one to put wet clothes in.

Friday night, after turning in, I'm awakened by the sound of a downpour and thunder, with lightning flashing. I figure it is 1better to get that over with before the race begins.

The morning is cool and there is a sight drizzle and I put on tights, a pair of long-sleeve shirts, a buff and gaiters to keep mud from my shoes. To minimize time at aid stations I use my hydration pack, which also provides pockets to carry gels and other food, and most importantly, a poncho.  Before we start I put on gloves.

The only stream crossing, just before the turnaround.

Out and Back (Repeat five times)

There are three other events at the challenge in addition to the marathon: 3-, 6-, and 10-hour challenges, each of which require the entrants to complete the 5.1ish mile out and back within an hour, then do it again starting at the top of the next hour.  Marathoners have the luxury of not having to meet the one hour requirement, and have the full ten hours to finish.

The 17 marathoners start at 650. It is not quite raining but not quite not raining either. The grassy sections of the course quickly get my feet wet, but the dirt single and double track are not muddy. Since the field is small it quickly sorts itself out. There will be little or no passing or changing places after the first couple of miles. I catch no one and no one catches me.

Turn-around.

The ten 10-hour competitors and the 39 6-hour competitors start ten minutes behind us at 7 a.m.  Within a couple of mile the leaders have caught and passed me.

Almost at the turn-around there is a small stream crossing, but conveniently located rocks make it possible to cross without getting wet feet. The faster runners don't waste time doing that and simply dash across.

Back we go, and I finish the first lap in 1:03.  This gives me a 7 minute head start on not only the 10- and 6-hour challengers, but also on the 27 3-hour challengers, who join us for the next three laps.

It doesn't take long for the challengers to catch up with me and then pass.  I exchange greetings with familiar faces, both passing me and returning toward the finish while I am still outbound.

"Crowded" second lap.

The rain picks up on the second loop and I put on my poncho.  It helps keep me from getting too much wetter, although I'm already a bit wet from the mist and light drizzle.  

At the end of the second lap (1:15) I go to the car and change my shirt and hat.  It is refreshing to feel partly dry, even if that won't last for too long.

As the day proceeds the course becomes increasingly muddy.  Puddles start to appear. The temperature is stuck in the low 50s, and I put my gloves back on. That is a bit of a struggle, as they are wet and my hands won't slide into them.  It takes a combination of tugging, pulling and interlocking fingers to get them on.

First lap not muddy.

Sloppy fifth lap.

Back to the start/finish at the end of the third lap (1:13) and back onto the course.  More muddy, and on the way back the rain picks up again the the poncho comes out again. With four laps finished (1:20) it is back to the car to once again change the wet shirt and dripping hat.

Back for my fifth lap, there are fewer runners on the course as the 4-hour challenge entrants and finished and the remaining 10 and 6-hour challenge runners are on their sixth lap. In fact, the 6-hour challengers will finish their event before I have made it back to the start/finish at the end of my fifth lap, and I'll see the remaining 10-hour challengers headed outbound while I approach the end of my fifth lap.

But the end of my fifth lap is not the end of the marathon.  There is still a mini out and back to complete. It is a mini-lap that has gotten longer than last year.  I'm confused by it, as the laps are pretty much the same course as last year.  Now, however the extra bit is about a mile. But no sense complaining; in trail races the distance is what the race director says it is. So I run and walk it, and return to the finish for the final time in 6:34:27.

On the course.

Finished now, it is the first time all day I take advantage of the aid station, getting an Athletic non-alcoholic beer and two slices of pizza. A volunteer offers to warm up the slices, and I accept. Even with the warm pizza, tt isn't long until I start to get cold. I'm wet, the temperature is in the 50s and I've stopped running.  It is shades of the 2015 Madrid Marathon.  Quickly going to the car, I change into my dry clothes, put on my hoodie and turn on the seat warmer and heated steering wheel for the drive home. The hot shower there (after a clothes-on shower to remove mud) finally warms me up.

Results

Of the 17 marathoners, I'm 12 of 17 overall, 11 of 12 males, and 1 of 1 in my age group. Six of 10 finish the 10-hour challenge; 32 of 39 the 6-hour challenge and 22 of 27 the 3-hour challenge.

Century

As I noted at the top, this is my 100th event of at least a marathon or longer. According to my records, I've run 37 marathons, both road and trail, 44 50Ks, a 32-miler, two 55Ks, two 60Ks, twelve 50-milers and two 100 Ks. I've DNF's at a 100k, two 50-milers, and two 50Ks.  I've run in nine of the United States and three European countries, 

It wasn't what I planned when I ran that first marathon.  That was a check the box event, partly spurred on by a feeling of missing out, and partly from listening to my internal clock ticking. and I did not know that it would lead first to more marathons, and then to trails.  But it did, and it has become a part of me that I'm not ready to give up.

In fact, I've got a 50K planned for the weekend following Farm Park Challenge.  That report is forthcoming. 

Swag: Shirt, 20-oz. glass, car magnet, bib, 2 non-alcoholic beers.

Farm Park Challenge Marathon - May 7, 2022

 Preparation

Having run Farm Park Challenge last year (report here), I know that one parks right at the start-finish so one's car becomes one's drop bag. And since the forecast calls for rain and temperatures in the 50s at the Agricultural History Farm Park, the car provides a dry - and large - drop bag. Since I'll be running five laps of the course, I'll pass my car four times (and at the finish) so I stock it with six shirts, an extra poncho, four pairs of gloves, four hats, extra buffs, towels and bandanas. And dry clothes for the finish.

Early on not too muddy

I arrive in ample time, park, pick up my bib, and sit in the car to stay dry and warm before the less than one minute walk to the start at 6:55, a five minute head start on those running the challenge races (run each 5.18 mile lap in an hour, then start the next lap at the start of the next hour).  At 6:49 I glance over to the start and realize that I mis-read the start time - it's at 6:50. I leap out of the car, and dash for the start line as the RD is counting down "10, 9, 8 . . . ," reaching it at "4." And we are off, and I'm out of breath, so I have to immediately start walking.

Back and Forth

The course is an out-and-back mostly on the the Upper Rock Creek Trail.  It is mostly new territory for me and is a mix of grassy surface, some double wide track, a bit of paved trail in the middle, and a small stretch of single track.  Three small bridges cross Rock Creek and two smaller streams.  The rain is light but steady, and the course gets muddier and more slippery as the day goes on.

At the end of the first lap (1:03:29) I go to the car, change both shirts under the damp poncho, and change my gloves and hat.  

The second loop is much like the first, only the course is getting more slippery.  I chat a bit with Monika B., who is only running two loops as she has other commitments for the day.

In the third loop with
the second poncho and third hat.

At the end of loop 2 (1:10:52) I revisit the car.  The poncho was water resistant, not water repellent, and after over two hours in the rain it is soaked.  The gloves I had put in its pocket are also soaked, so they, too, go. I change shirts again.  I put on the cheap, water repellent, plastic disposable poncho.  It isn't stylish (but a women tells me she can see me on the course because of its yellow hue).

Approaching the end of the third loop (1:20:13) my hip starts to hurt.  There is no obvious reason for the pain, but none the less, it is there.  I briefly think of dropping but decide to slow down, both mentally and physically. Back at the car I take a pair of ibuprofen and decide to walk for 20 minutes. That's how long I figure it will take for the pain reliever to kick in.  Walking awhile I start to make some calculations. Twenty minutes of walking will be about a mile.  That means I would only have another 1.5 miles of so to get to the turn around.  That's walkable, and walking back the 2.5 miles would at least give me four loops, I figure.

The bridge over Rock Creek

After 20 minutes or so I tentatively try running. No pain. I don't overdo it (I never do anyway) but I can get back to my usual mix of running and walking.  While the rain is lessening to a mist, the course is becoming increasingly muddy and slippery.  There are no steep inclines, but the slight downhills are treacherous and places where the trails are canted I sometimes slide sideways.

I chat with a women from Texas who is planning to take advantage of the generous ten hour cutoff to finish the race.  She and several colleagues are on an East Coast tour to rack up a number of states for their 50-State quest.  Maryland today, then a race in New Jersey of Tuesday, then Rehoboth for Delaware on Saturday then on to Connecticut for a fourth.

It's a stream trail

Finishing the fourth lap (1:26:19) I grab a slice of pizza and an avocado-sweet potato wrap and head to the car for another change of shirts. The rain has ended so I ditch the poncho, get rid of the gloves and change hats.

Nothing to do now but repeat what I've been doing.  I run a short while with one of the challenge racers, who are on their sixth loop. He's new to trails, but even with the inclement conditions is enjoying the experience.

At the finish with muddy legs
and beer

Getting near the turn-around I catch a women running the six-hour challenge.  She thinks she won't be able to finish the lap under the required hour, but I urge her on, mainly because my computational ability is way off (a common experience of distance runners).  She does go on and is soon out of sight, but won't make the cutoff.

I get to the start-finish and am directed to the short grassy loop that adds the few tenths of a mile necessary to reach the 26.2 miles to make a marathon. The grass is wet but the water and leaves of grass wipe the mud off my shoes (see picture, left).

Midway through the mini-loop I catch up to a runner. It turns out that she has actually finished the race, but is running another mini-loop because Strava doesn't register that she has completed 26.2 miles. "I must have gone off course somewhere," she says. "Or maybe your device is wrong," I reply. "Don't let the machine rule you."

When I finish I collect my finisher's glass and two Waredaca beers, get another slice of pizza, and head home to wash off layers of mud.

Results

I finish in 6:25:20, good for 12 of 21 and 7 of 9 males. I'm the second oldest finisher (1 of 2 in the 70+ age group) and have a surprisingly good Ultrasignup rank of 55.05 (based on the winner's 3:36:12 time).

The conditions take a heavy toll on the challenge runners. Only 27 of 36 (75%) 3-hour challengers complete their laps on time; 10 of 27 (37%) of 6-hour challengers; and only a single 10-hour challenger out of 10 (10%).  In fact, only two other runners completed as many as seven loops.

Swag: Shirt, bib, mason jar glass,
two Wardeca beers

Philadelphia Trail Marathon - October 16, 2021

Even modest victories have a price

Agility I

Preparing my gear late Friday night before the race I realize that I had not brought a handheld bottle. And since the aid stations are conveniently close to one another, I hadn't brought my Nathan pack.  Two alternatives are possible. First, run without hydration and rely on the aid stations. It's possible but the day promises some unseasonably temperatures in the upper 70s and gulping liquids every few miles and then running without does not seem like a good plan.  Second, Emaad's cousin, whose home we are staying at, offers a couple of small 6-ounce bottles of water.  Better than the first alternative I decide, and I take them.

Getting in the car Saturday morning for the drive to the race, I spot a wide-mouth empty16-ounce bottle from an iced tea I bought on the drive from Maryland.  It's ridged, which will improve the grip and it has a wide mouth, which will make refilling easy.  I pour the water from the smaller bottles into it and I'm ready to race.

Agilty II

It's not an Uberendurance event 
without Uber Hans and his accordion.

Last year's inaugural Philadelphia Trail Marathon was a virtual event due to the pandemic.  The 2021 version was scheduled to be in Wissahickon Park but the passage of the remnants of Hurricane Ida on September 1 did extensive damage to the trails and park management told the race director that he would not be able to use them. 

With barely six weeks to race day, Stephan Weiss, the Uberendurance Sports race director, arranged to move the race to Pennypack Park, where he puts on several other races. Not only does he move the race, but he has to figure out a course.

With great agility he does so, although the last minute maneuvering means he cannot provide a trial map in advance, only assuring runners that it would be two loops, and that half of the course would use trails used in the Dirty German (my 2019 report here) and half would be new trails. And he promises five aid stations per loop, and a total of eleven for the marathoners.

Fly and Die

We know the Pennypack drill: park on the street, make a very short walk to the pavilion, get our bibs and shirt, stash our drop bag, listen to Uber Hans play his accordion, eye the other runners. Aa couple of minutes before 8 a.m. Hans plays the National Anthem on his squeeze box, Stephan calls the runners to the start line and we are off.

Emaad follows other runners early in the race

The beginning of the race follows the Pennypack Trailfest course, which we ran in 2019.  The single track is pretty crowded so it is a chance for some walking and easy running - a perfect way to ease into the day.

Soon enough the field starts to stretch out, and parts of the course are wide enough to permit faster runners to move ahead.  Emaad and I settle into a nice rhythm, not too fast, but definitely quicker than usual.

After a few miles I'm still feeling good. Lacking impulse control, I tell him that I'm going to go on.  I know exactly what I'm doing and it is something I haven't done in several years.  It's fly and die time - run as fast as you can for as long as you can and hope that the finish is close enough when you run out of fuel and crash.  It is a terrible strategy, but it can be fun while it lasts.  Then it gets ugly.  And you never know when the fly part will end, adding to the excitement.  It's Russian roulette in trail shoes.

Running with several other runners, we pass a pair of mountain bikers on the side of a single track trail built with bikers in mind, with log jumps and plenty of twists and turns. One has thrown his chain and is fixing it. Soon they are back on the path and politely pass us as we all head downhill.

Goals

Still flying in the second loop.

About three quarters of the way through the first loop I decide to set some goals for the day.  I rarely set them before the race: "just want to finish" is my usual response.  But once I get going goals help to motivate me.

So I set five: finish the first loop before anyone in the half marathon (starting an hour later) passes me; finish the first loop before the leader of the marathon finishes; finish the first loop under 3 hours; finish the marathon under 6 hours; finish the marathon under 6:30.

The first goal gets blown away with miles remaining in the first loop. And then again. And again. Ultimately nine half marathoners will finish their race before I get to the end of the loop, even with an hour headstart.

But I don't notice anyone with a marathon bib pass me as I approach the start finish line.  One goal accomplished.

I cross the  line at the end of the first loop in 2:45! I change my shirt and head out on the second loop. Still flying! And I start thinking that 6 hours is definitely in play.  I can slow down by half an hour on the second loop and still make it.

Awhile into the loop my GPS reads barely 13 miles.  That's odd, since the first loop, a half marathon should have been 13.1 miles.  Maybe that explains the speedy - for me - first loop.  But no matter. Stephan had to put a course together quickly and did.  In trail runs, the distance is what the race director says it its.  And woe to those who insist that the distance isn't what the race director says.  The founder and race director of the Seneca Creek Greenway Trail Marathon and 50K added a "spite mile" the next year after fielding complaints that the course was longer than the advertised distance. (For the record my GPS logs 24,8 miles.  It is what it is. You still have to go from the start to the finish.)  

Trail next to Pennypack Creek (mile 18.5)

Catching up with a pair of runners I channel the Blues Brothers: "It's eight miles to the finish, I have half a bottle of water, two gels, and I'm wearing sunglasses. Let's hit it." One runner, missing the reference, helpfully offers a gel and says the next aid station is near. The other runner gets it. (Yes, the movie is 41 years old and I'm showing my age with the reference, but it's a classic. Right?)

Bees? What bees?

A runner asks me if I'd been stung. No, I reply, a bit puzzled by the question,  She tells me she had been stung seven times. Apparently there is a yellow jacket nest on the trail and the residents have taken offense at the disruption caused be the runners. They have taken to attacking them, and since they are yellow jackets and not bees, can sting multiple times. (Emaad will report being stung five times, from his ankle to his thumb.)

A course marshal also warns of the hazard on the second loop and says to stay to the left of a white-topped can he has placed near the nest.  When I get to the spot, I heed his advice and remain unstung.

Crash and Burn

Crossing Bridge over Pennypack Creek (mile 7) 

I'm well into the second loop, about mile 16, and moving along well. The plane is flying smooth and level. All is going smoothly.

Until it isn't. I catch a foot and head toward the ground.  There is a rock sticking up toward me as I go down, and I stretch out to avoid catching it with my ribs.  I succeed, but the cost is a scraped up right knee and right forearm.  Blood runs down the knee. I examine what has happened and don't feel any significant problems with the knee or the arm.  The damage is superficial and I am able to go on.

But the fall has taken the "fly" out of me.  There is an aid station a little bit ahead and I use wipes meant for cleaning surfaces to clean the scrapes.  I decline the offer of water to wipe off the dried blood that has reached to my sock, figuring to wear it as a badge of  honor.

Recharged

On I go, no longer flying high. Physically I don't feel bad, but the fight is out of me.  Through the mountain biker trail loop, along the relatively flat stretch along the north side of Pennypack Creek and back to the aid station. Continue on the gently rolling single track of the southernmost loop, under the overpass at Bustleton Avenue and on to the aid station under Krewstown Road at about mile 20.5. Then over the bridge to the other side of the creek.  This section of the trail is about 2.5 miles along the creek and the trail is frequently double wide with few rocks and roots.

I start running with Amy, a runner doing her first trail marathon.  Having someone to run with starts to recharge my mental battery.  A peek at the GPS get me thinking that maybe 6 hours is still in play.  And having a new running friend means I get to tell my old stories to fresh ears.

As we come to the final aid station (mile 23.5) I yell out, "Whiskey for my men, beer for my horses." Sure enough, a bottle appears and a shot appears.  I beg off, as I'm back to aiming at the 6 hour goal.  But I do accept half a brew.  Gotta hydrate for the final push.

Amy and I go on. I'm glancing at my watch more and more, but the time is slipping away.  I finally urge Amy on, telling her I think she still has a shot at breaking 6. She takes off and is quickly out of sight.

My new goal now is 6:15.  Cross the bridge over the feeder stream to Pennypack Park, up the trail to the sidewalk alongside Pine Road, swing around walkers, cross over Pennypack Creek, left onto the field leading to the finish, toss away my reliable substitute water bottle and cross the finish line in 6:06:25.

Getting cleaned up by Philly's bravest.
(Photo by E. Burki)

Agility III

I collect my plastic finisher's medal, and am awarded a trophy for finishing first in my age group (I beat the other person in it by 64 minutes, but he is the oldest finisher.)  There is a medic unit parked at the finish and they clean up my wounds and bandage my knee.  No need to risk necrotizing fasciitis, my current irrational fear associated with trail running. (My other two fears are not irrational: ticks and poison ivy.)

In a post-race email Stephan explains the plastic medal: "We had ordered medals in the spring, but unfortunately they are currently stuck on one of these container ships outside of LA. . . . we then worked with a local artist to have wooden medals made just in time for the race. Unfortunately their equipment broke down and they were not able to produce them either, so this acrylic medal was the last option . . . and we had them shipped next day air just in time for the race." 

Results

I finish in 6:06:25, good for 99/114 overall, 67/76 males and 1/2 in the 70+ age group.  Amy finishes in 6:05:19 and is kind enough to take the picture of me at the top of this post.  Emaad, with his five stings, finishes in 6:19:57.

Swag: Quarter zip, medal, bib
and AG trophy

Farm Park Challenge Marathon - May 1, 2021

Round and Round

The Farm Park Challenge has several events to choose from - 3 hour challenge, 6 hour challenge, 10 hour challenge, marathon and a Fun Run. All are held on the same approximately 5.1 mile course at the Agricultural History Farm Park in Derwood.  The challenge races all require that the runners complete the loop in less than an hour, and then begin the next loop at the start of the next hour.  The Fun Run is just show up any time during the day and run as much or as little as one wants. I figure I could do one or two loops of the challenge before not being able to keep up the necessary pace, so running the marathon, which has no such requirement (just start and run until finished) is for me.

Race Day

Emaad and I arrive at the Park in plenty of time to pick up our bibs and be ready to start in the second wave of marathoners at 6:55 a.m. The first wave goes out five minutes sooner. Since there are only 25 starters between the two waves, the COVID rules of wearing a mask and keeping social distance at the start are easy to follow. The masks come off as we cross the start line.

The course is a folded circle around the Agricultural Park, almost entirely on grass or generally broad trails.  The course undulates, but there are no significant hills.  One small stream crossing is on the course, but the lack of rain in the days preceeding the race means that one can easily hop across on two or three stones without wetting a shoe.

The 35 or 40 10- and 6-hour challengers start at 7 a.m. and it doesn't take long for the fast ones to catch and pass us. Throughout the loop more and more of the challenge runners pass us. In fact, since it takes me 1:00:47 to complete the first loop, they all need to pass me so they can start their second loop at 8 a.m.

Emaad on the course

I run much of the second loop in the company of Emaad and Tammy M., a veteran ultramarathoner with who has numerous 100-mile and 24 hour races to her credit, as well as the 2013 Badwater 135 (if you don't know what that is, watch the trailer for Running on the Sun.).  She gives us valuable advice about various races we are considering, as well as training tips.  Oh, her next race after the Farm Challenge Marathon is another marthon the next day.

He was a DNF.

Emaad's foot is bothering him, so as a cautionary move, he drops out after three loops.  I plod on, and finish in 5:42:24, good for 15 of 22 overall (there were 3 DNFs) and 13 of 15 males.  I was the oldest finisher.

Vingettes from the Day

Approaching the park road crossing in the first loop, I spy Mike E. acting as the course marshal.  "I have a cold Surrender Dorothy for you," he tells me. "Maybe on the last lap," I reply.  On the last loop, he isn't there, but the beverage is.  But I pass it up.

The course is pretty well marked and obvious, but it isn't a trail run unless you fall down or get lost.  On a long stretch about two thirds of the way through the loop a couple of runners are coming toward me.  They missed a turn (marked, but easy to miss) and are backtracking.  On a later loop, a couple of runners just ahead of me miss the turn.  "Stop! Left! Left!," I yell at them. They hit the brakes and make ther correct turn. Had they continued straight they would have rejoined the course in a few hundred yards.

To prove that I, too, lack navigational skills, or the powers of observation, I'm barely into the second loop when a buch of challenge runners overtake me running on a parallel trail. "Trail's down here," I conficently tell them. "You're going backwards on the trail to the finish," they reply. They are right, I quickly realize and cut thru to get onto the right trail.

Bacon! Or not.

"Bacon!," I yell at a pair to a pair of pigs at the barn in the middle of the farm. "They don't like that," a voice replies. She is a farm volunteer caring for the animals. "Not really," she says, "We used to name the pigs Bacon and Sausage because we would sell them at the end of the season. but we stopped doing that and now give them people names.  It's harder to eat them when they are named Alice and Bert."

On the fifth lap, a runner overtakes me wearing a mask. "I'm vaccinated," I say.  "Me too," she says, removing the mask. "We're outside and I'm fully vaccinated," I reply, "I don't get why people don't get vaccinated, so my slogan is 'Get vaccinated or die." "My husband has to intubate those people who don't get vaccinated and wind up in the hospital," she points out. "I'm sorry he has to," is my lame reply.  But I've changed my curse on anti-vaxxers to "Get vaccinated or get intubated." Less harsh, more alliteration.

Swag: Two Waredaca beers,
a glass, shirt and bib. 

Philadelphia Trail Marathon (virtual) - December 12, 2020

Despite Covid indeed.

Prelude to Change

On February 29, Emaad and I sign up for the Philly Trail Marathon scheduled for Saturday, April 18, 2020.  Little do we suspect that it will be 34 weeks, not seven weeks, before we run it, and in Gaithersburg, Maryland, not Philadelphia.

A Pandemic Changes Everything

At the end of February talk of a pandemic has begun, but how bad things will get are not clear.  I ran the George Washington Birthday Marathon two weeks earlier and there was no mention of the corona virus. Emaad and I register for the race on the last day of February before entry fees increase.

But it doesn't take much longer for virus concerns to surface.  On March 7 I run the Seneca Creek Greenway Trail 50K, and rules at the aid stations are in effect due to the virus. Later that week my wife and I drive to Florida to spend a week, but we return home after only four days. Many public facitities are closed and supermarkets are sold out of essentials. We become concerned that may not be able to return home if we wait any longer. On the drive home on March 18, fast food restaurants have closed their indoor dining and are only doing take out or drive-thru sales.

Dos Amigos (post race).

On March 20, we get emails that the race has been postponed until September 27, assuming that Philadelphia will issue the necessary permits. On July 14 comes the news that the race will go virtual. Runners will have until December 31 to run it virtually.  Shortly thereafter, a package arrives from Uberendurance Sports containing a bib, a medal and the race premium shirt.  I do not open it, since I have not yet run the race, and the runner's code is that you cannot display a medal you did not earn, and you cannot wear a shirt from a race you did not run or volunteer at. And who needs a bib in a virtual race?

No Training? No Worries!

Because of a serious automoble accident on July 10 that left my wife confined to a wheelchair for months, I cannot be away from the house for any significant duration.  That largely means that I have to run on the streets in my neighborhood, frequently doubling back to the house to check on her, initially as frequently as every 15 minutes.  Long runs are not possible.

As the summer turns to fall, and she can start to use a walker, my runs lengthen, but not into double digits.  Frequent daily 3-5 mile runs enable me to hit 100 miles per month, but just barely.

As she strengthens and begins to use a walker and the days get shorter into November, I suggest to Emaad that we aim to run the virtual Philly Marathon on December 12.  He agrees, but insists that we need to get a couple of long runs in.  Two weeks prior we run 13.1 miles in the neighborhood, coming back to the house once to check in.  The next weekend we do a 10-miler from the house, again looping back to the house in the middle of the run.

A Plan

I arrange for our two children to spend time with their mother for significant parts of the eight hours that I figure I need to get to and from where we will run and the time for the run.

Seneca Creek north of Route 355.

We decide that the Seneca Creek Greenway Trail offers the best opportunity for the marathon.  It is only about a 15 minute drive from home and we can park at Route 355 in Gaithersburg, Right next to the trail. We plan to run north about 4 miles to Brink Road, go back to the cars to reload our Camelbacks, then go south about 5 miles to Riffle Ford Road, return to the cars for a second refueling, then north about 3 miles to Watkins Mill Road and return for our 26.2 mile marathon. Moreover, we are familiar with the trail and figure that there will be fewer people on it than other trails closer to home.

No Plan Survives First Contact with the Enemy

Trail food?

We meet and at 8:33 a.m. we are off and headed north. The forecast is for an unseasonaly warm day, partly sunny with a high close to 60 degrees.  But as we start out, the temperature is in the upper 30s and there is a significant amount of fog.  I'm wearing tights, two shirts and gloves, along with a buff (for both neck warmth and to use as a face covering when encountering other trail users).

It is a pleasant day for a run and early on there are not too many other people on the single track trail.  We move along unhurredly, as there is no cutoff that we need to beat, nor other runners to overtake. Familiarity with the trail makes reminiscing about races we ran, and people we ran with, on that section of the trial easy.  We get to Brink Road and decide to go on to Huntmaster Road, maybe another mile further. At Huntmaster we figure to go another 1.5 miles, to get to 6.55, so that wene we return, we'll have have the race done.  But the day is nice, the trail is easy, the scent of horses (never seen) is in the air and we keep going.  Only when we reach the spot at mile 7.1 where we would have to ford Seneca Creek to keep going on the trail that we decide to turn around.

We retrace our steps in good spirits.  I take a picture of my Garmin when we reach 13.1 miles (at 2:59) and SMS it to my wife and children so they can see my progress.

Halfway!

The CSX bridge

Back at the cars, I decide to shed my tights and gloves, and change my two shirts for one longsleeved one.  I refill the Camelback, eat a Wild Mesquite Huppybar, and pack a few gels. It takes almost ten unhurried minutes to do all this, and Emaad is starting to get stiff waiting so he heads off.  

Emaad crosses the feeder stream
approaching Riffle Ford Road.

I catch up to him in a couple of minutes as we take the sidewalk next to Route 355 to get to the other side of Seneca Creek, then get on the trail to go under the road.  There are even fewer people on this stretch of trail, which alternates between runable stretches and some rocky, twisty, up and downs as it passes under I-270 and the 1906 stone arch bridge for the CSX tracks. And as we approach the bridge, so does a CSX train, with a consist of half a dozen locomotives heading a long string of autorack cars and tankers.

We pass thru Seneca Creek State Park on Long Draught Trail, catching a whiff of a cigar from someone sitting on the bank of the creek, then pass under Great Seneca Highway with the scent of sewage from vents of the WSSC sewage pipes in the area. We pass the disc golf course and the players on the course.  Then an easy hop over the stones across a small tributary to Seneca Creek and we shortly arrive at Riffle Ford Road. I touch a symbolic toe on the pavement and we retrace our steps northward.  Even before we reach Great Seneca Highway, the Garmin reads 20 miles (and 5:03) and I take another picture to send home announcing my progress. 

Grafitti under 355.

The northbound journey is not particularly hurried.  We ask a couple of fisherman have they have been faring ("nothing" and "a few small ones") and have to dodge some family groups, particularly in the park or near roads that provide parking for trail access.  

Back at the 355 parking lot we only need less than 2 miles.  To avoid retracing our steps we decide to try to go south on the side of the creek opposite the trail. But what looks like a trail quickly peters out and we give up trying to be creative and simply head north.  Peculiarly, my arithmetic ability is still functioning after 25 miles, and go just far enough out so that the return gives us 26.24 miles in 6:46:26.

The results.

The rewards.

The Best Present

 I eagerly tear open the bag from Uberendurance Sports, don my newly earned shirt and proudly hold up the medal and the bib.

Happy Birthday, Trail Marathoner!

Oh, December 12 is my birthday. And December 12, 2020 was my 70th birthday.  Who could ask for a better 70th birthday present than running a trail marathon with a friend, and getting a medal for doing so? (Although my age goes in the offical records as 69, the age I was had the race occured on the originally scheduled date.)

Swag: shirt, medal, bib.