Bull Run Run 50 Miler: Worth it for the Food Alone

When I ran the Bull Run Run 50 Miler as my first 50 miler 4 years ago, I was lucky enough to achieve a storybook ending by reaching my goal of finishing under 10 hours to “score” for the South with a time of 9:59:23. The race was so fun and well organized that I knew I would have to come back. This time Nathan ran too and was initiated into the wonderful family that is the Virginia Happy Trails Running Club

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Naturally, I wanted to break 10 hours again. But IT band pain kept my long run to 30 miles rather than my planned 36 and robbed me of my peak weeks of training. The temperatures would reach 75 on race day, 10 degrees warmer than in 2010, and a long winter meant bare trees which provided no shade and runners who weren't acclimatized to the heat (even those of us from the Lowcountry). The only thing working to my advantage to best 2010's run was experience. I wasn't optimistic.

With this is mind, I made my motto for the race “I'm just going for the food.” BRR50 has the best aid stations I have ever encountered (Pizza, strawberries, avocados, ravioli, I could go on for paragraphs) as well as delicious Friday night pasta and salad (and fajitas for the bold) with post-race burgers and hot dogs.

Nathan and I put my “experience” to use by going out a bit quicker to avoid being stuck in a slow line for the first seven miles as I had in 2010. This worked well and probably saved us a lot of time. After a couples miles, I eased up some, but he kept going at the faster pace. I was struck by how much easier the course was than I remembered it; other races had taught me how incredibly runnable this course was in comparison. Still, the steep downhills started hurting my IT band as early as mile 4, and as this worsened, I worried about whether I would be able to finish the race. Miles 7.2-11.6 were on a flat, easy section through the bluebells and I planned to walk one minute in the middle of it. Right when I started to walk, I came across Gary Knipling, local ultrarunning celebrity/mascot, and I couldn't help but run to chat with him. He was as gregarious as promised and became one of two 70 year olds to finish the race that day. I had a 10-15 minute cushion on the pace needed to break 10 hours at the halfway point, but as the temperature rose, I knew this goal was no longer practical.

While in 2010, my undergraduate courses led to translate the events of the day and the songs in my head into French, this time around I considered the day in medical jargon: “Man, I'm really blowing off CO2.” “It would be great if I could perfuse my kidneys a little bit less and my gut a little bit more.” “I wonder what my BMP looks like now.” “Why is there a mandible hanging from that tree?” (No joke, and I don't believe I was hallucinating). In between thoughts like these, I chatted with Greg, who was running his first 50 Miler and committed to being conservative until the final 10 miles, even though he felt strong. 

The heat was affecting all of us and the aid stations responded with ice cold rags and popsicles. The tables of amazing food were utterly unappealing to my nauseous stomach. BRR50 was where I discovered my love of pizza mid-race 4 years ago, but I couldn't tolerate it that day. Despite feeling dehydrated, I was having to stop to pee at least once an hour, which is not ideal as a female in a race of mostly men where the trees were all bare. I was drinking a full water bottle a section, even though some of the sections were only 2-3 miles long. My hands were swollen to the point that my handheld bottle was no longer comfortable. Greg asked if I had taken any electrolyte capsules and I said I hadn't, convinced that my experiences with projectile vomiting after ramen noodles at Burning River meant supplemental sodium was a bad thing for me. It was more desire to stop wasting so much time peeing than actual logic that made me decide to take an S-cap somewhere between miles 38-40.

I felt myself slowing more and encouraged Greg to go on ahead. He said he was happy with the company and grateful I wasn't too much of a chatterbox. This prompted me to think of several stories to tell him (Sorry, Greg!), and then I had to stop to pee and I didn't see him again. He would finish in a strong 10:19. With Greg gone ahead, I stooped to solitary melodrama, wherein I thought of the heat as “bludgeoning my soul.” I soon realized how ridiculous that sounded and realized the problem: I hadn't eaten much more than popsicles for a couple hours. Whoops. I forced some shot blocks in.

My main concern about the last two sections was water supply. I was badly sunburned and had chapped my lips to the point of opening up a cut where my sweat gathered and dried so that I got to experience the literal meaning of the metaphor “rubbing salt on your wounds.” I only carried one 22 oz handheld and had downed it in each of the previous 2-3 mile sections. The last two were 5 and then 5.5 miles. I would have to run almost all of them to avoid running out of water. The energy from my shot blocks kicked in and I settled into a pattern of running 5-10 minutes, walking 1 minute. My IT band actually felt better, possibly because I was running more slowly. About 4 miles from the finish, I caught up to Nathan. I walked with him for a minute and then he encouraged me to go ahead; he wasn't planning to run anymore. I ran the majority of the remainder to cross the finish line in 10:30:20.

Results have been posted, and I was 114^th out of 272 official (sub 13 hour) finishers (321 starters). In 2010, I ran 31 minutes faster and placed 140^th. The heat had slowed the entire field, so I am quite content with my run. Once again, the VHTRC put on a fantastic race unmatched by any other ultra I have done. We will be back!

-Jordan