Finger Lakes 50s 50K - June 24, 2023

We've Been Here Before

This is my third time running Finger Lakes 50s 50K, having done it it 2007 and last year (report here). Emaad is doing with me, having done the 25K in 2007.

He drives us up on Friday, we go directly to packet pickup at the race start/finish at the Potomac Group Campground in Finger Lakes National Forest, then take the 20 minute drive to my Watkins Glen house, where we greet Sandy, who came up a few days earlier, and go out to eat.  It is Fish Fry Friday, a weekly western New York tradition, but both of us choose alternatives, rather than risk digestive discontent the night before a race.

Nevertheless, sleep for both of us is unsettled, a normal occurrence before a race, and matches the  weather, which threatens showers, thundershowers or rain.

Up at 0500, we have a bite to eat, and drive to the forest under gloomy skies.  We park along Potomac Road as instructed, walk to the campground to check-in and walk back to the road for the 0630 start.

First Loop

View to the southeast from Burnt Hill Trail early on.

The race director gives some last minute instructions, including the traditional "don't let the cows out" admonition with the instruction that unless the next runner's hand is on the gate, don't be polite, just close and lock it.

Don't let the cows out.
(Photo by E. Burki)

We head down Potomac Road, allowing the 68 runners in the 50K (from nine states and one foreign country) and the 38 50-milers (eight states) to spread out. Forty-four (?) 25K runners (four states) will start later. A right turn puts us on single track, including through some high grass (I immediately remember I forgot bug spray to fend off ticks), then across a road and through a pasture (without any cows). I snap a picture of what on clear days is a good view, but today is obscured by clouds. 

We run down unpaved Mark Smith Road and at nearly 4 miles there is water-only aid, manned by a volunteer recording bib numbers. A right turn off the road (map of the national forest here) puts us on the Gorge Trail. For nearly the next ten miles the course is generally uphill until the final aid station with about 3 miles to go for a total of 16.5 miles.

So now you are thinking: 50K is 31.1 miles, so one loop should be 15.5 miles, not 16.5 miles. But on this course each loop is 16.5 miles. First, in ultras, the distance is whatever the race director says it is. Secondly, since this course is used for both the 50K and the 50M, three loops of 16.5 makes 49.5 miles, so the additional "baby loop" to get to 50 miles only has to be a half mile.  For those doing the 50K, the additional nearly two miles is a free bonus.

Humid on the first loop.

It is a prototypical eastern trail: rocky, rooty, twisty and up and down. It requires a bit of adjustment from our Grand Canyon Rim-to-River journey two weeks earlier. Fortunately the trail is mostly dry and the stream crossings are not a challenge. The views are - well, views of the inside of a forest. Perhaps spoiled by the magnificent vistas of the Grand Canyon, the trail lacks interest for Emaad and me.

Once in a while there is a chance for a view, but the misty weather takes that away. We experience a couple of light showers, but they are not heavy and the forest canopy catches most of them. Grey clouds are not scenic.  The air clears a bit on the second loop, but not enough to provide sweeping sights.

But you have to play the hand you are dealt (folding is not an option), so we go on, doing the gorge loop, then up the Interloken Trail to the Ravine Trail - steep downhill followed by steep uphill, a bit of Picnic Area Road past another volunteer checking bibs, then onto the Backbone Trail. It is a largely straight and smooth horse trail, but we don't come across any equestrians, and it is a chance to do some actual sustained running.

Me and cows.
(Photo by E. Burki)

We arrive at the final aid station and go thru a gate into a pasture with cows. Exiting the pasture, I realize that I have lost my Arizona Trail handkerchief. I figure I can look for it on the second loop.

By now we have been passed by the leaders of the 25K race. No matter. We turn south onto the Interloken Trail, run on the various boardwalks there (being careful of where they are slippery, and occasionally bouncy). We skirt a couple of ponds and shortly arrive at the finish area in 4:19.

Emaad and I go to our drop bags. He changes socks and shoes while I change my shirt and grab another handkerchief.

Second Loop

 We have been running for miles with a local husband-wife couple since early in the first loop. They work at wineries and we chat about wine. One works at Lakewood Vineyards, which makes a Lemberger that Sandy is particularly fond of. We get an advance review of the 2022 vintage, which has not yet been released, but is reportedly good, with overtones of white pepper.

Juvenile Eastern Newt on Mark Smith Road.

Headed down Mark Smith Road the second time Emaad spots an bright orange gummi on the ground.  I see the same thing as a child's toy.  We are both wrong, as the Eastern Newt eft takes some steps away from us.

At one of the aid stations the volunteer checking bibs tells Emaad he had been recorded as being a DNF at the finish area. Clearly that isn't the case and the volunteer says he will radio in a correction.

Someplace along the South Slope Trail I find a timing chip that has somehow torn off the back of a runner's bib. Some runner isn't going to be recorded as finishing. In about a mile we reach an aid station and I turn it in.  As I do, a runner comes in with a well worn bib and says it may be his. Sure enough, the bib and chip numbers match and the aid station workers give it to him.

I'm not enjoying the uphill slog again and I repeatedly urge Emaad to go on.  Finally he does, and I'm left to go on myself.  I don't mind as I'm mostly walking, but I do urge myself to run on the Backbone Trail. 

Looking west in the afternoon. Still misty and cloudy.

Since it is straight I play games with myself, looking ahead to a point that I will run to.  Then, as I approach it, I'll switch to another point further along.  It's a under-promise, over-deliver strategy.  

Every now and then I'm passed by z 50-mile runner on their third loop. Ultimately, five of them will finish their race before I've finished mine.

Approaching the final aid station I search the ground for my missing handkerchief without luck. I enquire at the aid station but no one has turned one in. And a search passing through the pasture is likewise futile.

I go on the last few miles, pushing a bit to finish under 9:20. Approaching the finish, I see the clock in the high 9:17s. I sprint hoping to be under 9:18, but just fail, finishing in 9:18:01.  Emaad was waiting for me, having finished in 9:00:29.

By the Numbers

My splits were 4:19 and 4:59. I was 60 of 68 overall, 35 of 38 males, and first (and only) in my age group. I was the oldest runner by four years. 

Swag: bib, shirt, glass, wooden medal.