FlintStrike 40 - The GDR Precursor

In 2024 I noticed a few friends registered for a race I had not heard of, the Georgia Death Race (GDR). Having feelings of FOMO (no beer was not involved in this poor life choice), I decided to register and see what it was all about. Mind you, I never looked to see what the elevation profile had in store for me. Well, it has a stated total incline of 16k feet over 74 miles. Yeesh. I have only run one trail race with 11k (also over 70 miles) and that was in 2020; Laurel Highlands. Sounded like a great challenge to pull me out of my comfort zone and it would be what I had thought to be my first out of state race.

Months roll by and I find out there are a bunch of other Ohio running friends that are training for GDR. Cool! At least I won't be alone and so I was added to a FaceBook Messenger group where we can talk about training, the race, and any other fun topics. In the group chat someone mentioned a race called the Fierce Dragon. A 200-mile race that takes place in Georgia in January. I am not even remotely interested in a 200-mile race, but I decided to look into it to see what it was about only to find out there are a handful of smaller races held at the same time. The FD 200 is put on by the H9 race company and the race happens to be on the first 20 miles of the GDR course. So now I'm intrigued. The other race distances are 100, 100k, 40, 40k, and a 25k. Upon digging further, the 40 miles is one traversal of the Duncan Ridge Trail, so an out and back starting at Vogel State Park, runs along the Duncan Ridge Trail, and turns around at Skeenah Gap. This starts to sound like a great option for GDR training, so I reach out to some friends and manage to wrangle in one buddy that I have been running with more over the past year, Nick Mazzino, and we both decide to register. Each race has its own name and the 40-mile race is named, FlintStrike.

A couple months out from the race I work with my coach, and we decide to start working my way into training for vertical gain by adding hill repeat sessions and weekly vertical goals. The first month in would be November where we would start to short, hard hill repeat sessions, then over time begin to make the repeats longer along with some temp work. The weekly vert goals would kick in some time in December where we had planned around 7k one week, then 8k, then 9k, etc. Here is how the training started in late October:

• Week 1 - 6500' - feeling good I was happy but never expected to go over 6500 any time soon
• Week 2 - 10,600' - well that escalated quickly; felt really good and now I had the hill repeat itch
• Week 3 - 13,100' - huh ... looky there, still feeling strong and already blew up December goals
• Week 4 - 18,100' - oh my ... hmmm ... wonder how far we can go with this?
• Week 5 - 23,100' - all my runs at this point turned into only hill repeats; My OCD took over.
• Week 6 - recovery, basically zero vert. Had a total this week of less than 2k
• Week 7 - 23,200' - picked right back up where I had left off
• Week 8 - 26,600' - hmmm .... now my monkey brain is starting to think about a run Everesting
• Week 9 - 17,700' - the holidays made my vert training take a hit but I managed through it
• Week 10 - 21, 800' - last big week before tapering for FlintStrike 40.
• Week 11 - 11,500 - Still over 10k and the GDR RD came out with an email stating that anyone not getting over 10k of vert per week by this time should not even bother coming out to race GDR. Ummm ... I think I got that 10k covered.

Week 12 is race week and time to see if all this hill repeat training is going to pay some dividends. Nick and I had been watching the weather like a hawk leading up to this week. The forecast was calling for rain and lots of it, but only on the day of the race. Go figure. For a place to stay I had reached out to a friend that I met year ago during one of many mountain bike races, I think it was the Cohutta 100, because he had told me he has a place in Georgia. Roger Sutton is a phenomenal athlete with a deep history of being a national level runner and an absolute terror on the mountain bike. His place in Georgia happens to be 13-minutes from Vogel State Park, the race start, so we rent his place for the weekend. It was beautiful and so comfortable. The perfect fit for this trip.

We left early for GA and rolled into town around 4pm, got situated at the rental, and headed to packet pickup. The RDs were super nice and answered all the questions that I had for them. Yes, there is snow on the course. Yes, runners are using spikes (we both brough micro spikes but neither of us wanted to carry them let along deal with them). Yes, it will most likely rain. Yes, there is a Pointless Elevation Climb (coined PEC) that you have to do inbound and outbound. What they don't tell you is that the PEC is not taken into consideration for the total mileage. Learned that during the race. 

We ran a short 30-minute O&B on the start of the course to get the blood flowing and headed back to dinner and sleep. We both must have packed and re-packed our gear 40 times before just settling on "something" and would reassess the weather situation in the morning. Overnight the skies opened up and the rain let loose something fierce. It must have poured for hours. I felt so bad for the 200, 100, and 100k racers that had to contend with the rain on top of all the snow that had been dropped on the course the weekend before the race. It was a very rough night. When Nick and I got up to prep for the race the weather had shifted. The majority of the rain had come through and there was very small percentage for Saturday during out race. Awesome. A few minor gear and drop bag changes and we headed to the start of the race.

FD is a small race overall. Not many people probably want to or are ready to race in January in an area that the weather is a huge unknown. I think we got extremely lucky with the weather because the temperatures at the start were high 30s and once it reached 45*, the temperatures stayed there throughout the day and night. The race started at 8am with the 40-mile, 40k, and 25k all starting at the same time. Not knowing who was in a particular race was the challenging part, but I honestly went into this race with a couple goals in mind. First, to enjoy the race and stay out of my own way (don't over think things). Second, check out the trails for how technical they are, how the long climbs feel, and get a better sense of what the first 20-miles of GDR will be like. Third, stay towards the front in case any conga lines form so I am not having to be held back early on in the race. Fourth, I wanted to see how far I could make it on the course without using my poles. Fifth, I wanted a top ten finish. Not saying much for a race that had 32-registered racers in the 40-miler, but there it is. The race start was rather uneventful with the RD essentially, saying "oh look it's 8am, get going". He actually had to say it twice because I think most of us were expecting just a little more of an official "GO". LOL

Only a few runners seemed to pick up the pace quickly, but the majority were slow to get going and that was fine with me. I counted the runners ahead of me and had the number at roughly 5-6.  We wound our way around some construction in the camp area, passed a number of cabins and made our way onto the trails. The snow was immediate but nothing my Speedgoat 6s could not handle. I quickly hooked up with a couple of runners and we moved along the first small climb fairly quickly. Then we were down to two and I discovered the guy I was with was doing the short race (25k) so I knew I didn't need to be concerned about him. As we came up to a road crossing there were three other runners changing out of there rain jackets because of the warmer temps and the fact that there was no rain. I momentarily considered changing as well but decided to take advantage of the moment and continue on. I wasn't overheating yet and I wanted to the time to gain some time on the three runners. After we hit the 3-mile mark the first and biggest climb started, Coosa. This is a 3.6 mile climb with roughly 2300' of gain. The trail was snow covered, and it was soft. Nearly zero traction so this was a slip'n slide all the way to the top. I had dropped the 25k runner but picked up another that came up behind me along with one more runner that already had his poles out. I knew I was not going to use my poles until I reached the top of Coosa so that I could mirror what GDR would be like because for GDR you are not allowed to use poles until after the first aid station which is after you have reached the top of Coosa and descended to the first AS at mile 7.5. I wanted to know what it would feel like w/o poles. Admittedly, having the use of poles would have made the climb easier due to the soft snow, but it certainly wasn't horrible.  At this point I was figuring I was somewhere in the top five (best guess) and I was content with that, so I stayed with our group of three as we made our way to the top. We had very short burst of running before the snow was too soft and deep or the climb pitched up too much to handle. Once we reached the top, I knew the descent would be sketchy and it was. Finding traction on the descent was pointless. It was a matter of praying that each foot strike would stop at some point before going head over heels tumbling down the hill. Two of us thought we were doing well as we made our way down the steep descent, but the third runner who had been lagging behind, only slightly, came bombing down the hill with his poles and absolutely disappeared in a matter of seconds. It was jaw dropping and exciting to see what he did at the same time. I could not believe how fast and efficiently he flew down that mountain. I and the runner I was with laughed about it and just kept doing our best. The advantage of the mad-skillz-downhiller did not last long as we caught back up to him as we made our way up the next climb. This went on for a while until the runner I was with began to gap me after we had made out way through the first aid station at mile 8.25 (FirePit). I left the AS before him to try and get a jump on him, but he quickly caught back up and then gapped me. It was still early in the race, so I was fine letting him go.

Right after the Firepit aid station, maybe 1.5 miles after the AS) I noticed he had stopped along a very narrow part of the trail that featured a steep cliff on the right-hand side that had this soft, slushy, and very slick snow. As I got closer to him, he was yelling down to someone that had slide off the trail and part way down the cliff. We both stopped and at the same time a couple runners were coming up the trail (a 100-miler and his pacer), so now there were four of us to help this female runner who had apparently slide off the trail due to fatigue. Two of the runners launched themselves down the cliff, almost not stopping, and managed to get to her and inch by inch pull her up the cliff. As she neared the trail, I was able to help pull her back onto the trail while the two that had helped her made their way back. It was truly heroic what those runners did to get her back onto the trail. The email runner was quite frazzled, as one would be after such an ordeal, and it was decided that she would made her way back to the last AS with the pacer and other 100-mile runner. This all took only took a few minutes time (may ten or so) and we were back running down the trail, being perhaps a little more cautious as we made our way towards the next AS at Mulky Gap around mile 13. 

I made sure to fill up my bottles and grab food before heading out because the next AS would be 7-miles out (or so I thought) and I didn't want to be w/o out food or fluids due to not knowing the conditions of the trails. By now I had gapped the other runner I was with and was flying solo. Fortunately, the trails after Mulky Gap were noticeably devoid of any snow, only small insignificant patches here and there which posed no problems. Additionally, this section had some of the flattest part of the entire course which allowed me to pick up my pace and finally feel like I was making good time. I had no idea how far the mad-skillz-downhiller was ahead of me but only imagined that he was nearing the halfway point due to our unexpected stop to assist another runner. Five miles into this section I came across the PEC (Pointless Elevation Climb). We were to do this once outbound and once inbound, and I was told the climb was about 3/4 of a mile. Ouch. The climb wasn't terrible and as I neared the top I was pleasantly surprised to see the runner that I had thought would be long gone, just now descending the PEC. Awesome! We gave each other some encouragement and I continued on to the top, which was maybe another 30 feet. After punching my bib number with the hole punch and while I was descending the PEC, the runner that I had dropped was now ascending. After exchanging more encouraging words, I headed to Skeenah Gap, the halfway point. Making sure to take notice of the added mileage that PEC added (roughly one mile), I also took note that my total mileage was dead on at 18 miles. In my head I was thinking I only had 2 miles to the halfway point, man was I wrong. It was four miles to Skeenah Gap which put me at 22-miles into the race. As I entered the AS tent, I almost fell over with how hot it was. The runner which I now understood to be the first-place runner in the 40mile race, was sitting in a chair in the tent. Much too warm for my preference, so I grabbed my bag and got out of there before I turned into Frosty the Snowman in the greenhouse melting away. 

There was a gentleman just outside the tent waiting for his wife to come through. He offered to help me with my gear and man that was such a huge help! As I shoveled a PB&J crustable into my pie hole he refilled my bottles, helped me remove trash from my vest, and just before I was going to leave helped me mix up my Tater Boost mashed potatoes using the warm Ramen broth that I had heated up in the morning. I also changed out of my soaked base layer and dropped my raincoat. Put on new arm warmers, a new base layer, packed a new warm beanie and my Patagonia Houdini in case it got cold at night, and put on my light-weight vest. The first-place runner, whom I later learned is Lee, left the AS maybe 5-7 minutes before me. I was not concerned and honestly did not think I would catch him. I wanted to make sure I had everything I needed for the return trip to the next AS and I absolutely needed to mix up the potatoes and get some calories in me. The miles leading up to Skeenah Gap had me running very low on energy because I had done a poor job of eating and drinking up to that point. I thanked the gentleman several times as I continued to mix up my warm, heavenly tasty, mashed potatoes and made my way up the climb out of Skeenah Gap. I decided to just hike up the climb while I continued to eat as this would be more efficient than trying to run or waiting at the AS to finish my food. Those mashed potatoes did not stand a chance. After eating the crustable at the AS and then packing in the 300+ calories of Tator Boost potatoes I was figuring I would be not running for a while to let the food settle. I must have been famished because I barely noticed the food it my stomach but was absolutely noticeable was my energy level returning. As soon as I reached the top of the climb I started to run and felt ridiculously good. I was maybe 2 miles into the four miles I had to reach my second round of the PEC and I could see Lee just ahead of me. I wasn't trying to catch him to be honest, because I would rather have him just ahead of me, then to be feeling like I was getting hunted down. We still had a long way to go to the finish. Fortunately, or unfortunately, my pace was ridiculously comfortable and happened to be faster than Lee's pace, so I grabbed on to the back of him and ran with him for a short while. We chatted a little and much to my surprise he stepped off the trail to let me go. As I passed, he gave me a fist bump and said "go get'em". I love the trail running community!! I never intentionally picked up my pace at this point because I didn't want to blow up. I was prepared to let Lee pass me at any moment. I reached the PEC for a second time and headed up. This time it was me descending as Lee was ascending, again exchanging more encouraging words to each other. The difference this time is that I was well aware of how good of a descender Lee was, so I bombed the descent throwing caution to the wind, not wanting him to catch back up on the descent. 

This is how I ran the remaining miles. I would climb as best I could and then throw myself down the descents out of fear that Lee was on my tail. Each aid station I reached, I would take my time and be intentional with my actions so as to not waste any time and ensure that I was getting everything I needed before heading back out. Both of the aid stations I was in and out before I saw Lee. At the Firepit AS, the last one before the finish line with seven miles left in the race, I felt like I was in the tent forever. Grabbing ramen, potatoes, and anything else that sounded good like a cream filled oatmeal cookie which I ate while I made my way back onto the trail. I was fortunate that it had yet to turn nighttime, but I was starting to count down the minutes to when I needed to use my head lamp. Shortly after leaving the last AS I stopped to retrieve out my headlamp which had been secured in the back of my vest for the entire race. Plus, I was also hoping that if Lee was right behind me, that he would have at least stopped at the last AS to refill his nutrition before heading back out. Honesty, who knows how hard Lee was actually racing but it was fun for me to be in that mindset and feel like I was battling it out with another runner. 

The last big climb was coming up, the backside of Coosa and after that it would be miles of descending to the finish line. Something I had been looking forward to ever since I left Skeenah Gap. Using my watch all day to see how I progressed on each climb, as I was running the course all day, it was intimidating to see how steep the first 3/4 of the Coosa climb was going to be. Once I reached the base, I just put my head down and began grinding it out. I had yet to use my poles during the race and at this point wasn't about to give in to the temptation. Little by little I made my way up the climb until finally that steep pitch gave way to a much more comfortable grade, and I could feel my pace beginning to pick up. I had wondered if I could reach the top before needing my headlamp and as I made my way over the peak, finally turned on my lamp. Much to my surprise, with my headlamp now blazing into the darkness I had only now realized how thick the fog had become. The pea soup fog rendered my headlamp nearly useless. It could see maybe five feet in front of me. Climbing with low visibility isn't all that big of a deal because you're generally moving at a slower pace. Descending, when you want and typically can pick up your pace, you want to have full visibility of the trail in front of you, but that was just not going to be possible. Sketchy is probably doing it justice for what it is like trying to run down a steep, rocky, rooty descent with no visibility. It's quite unnerving and while there were some very short patches of no fog, those sections were few and far between. I had 5-6 miles of descending in this mess to make my way to the finish line. Remember that Lee is an incredibly talented descender, so I was trying to figure out how to keep moving safely but not get caught. While it is hard for me to say that I just "sent it", that is what it felt like. I push my fears aside and moved as quickly as I could down the terrain that presented itself to me, in five-foot increments. Quick stepping around rocks, roots, and the occasional snowy, slushy sections that had not quite melted making sure when I slide, I didn't slide so far as to incur an injury or plat myself face first into a tree. Once I made my way to the gravel road, I let it all go. I mashed my way down the road without a care for my safety or possible injury. One of the runners turned around and yelled out to me, "comin in hot" as I blasted past them only quickly glancing at my watch to see a 9-minute pace. While that is not fast for so many, in the dark, with the fog, while trying not to break an ankle running over baby head rocks and the occasional shin-deep snow/ice holes filled with freezing water, it felt like a full send to me. I had to slow up a few times when the gravel road turned into washed out ATV road and I lost site of the flatter part of the trail, but then quickly picked up my pace once I got back onto better footing. All the while I would glance back to see if I could sense any headlamps moving at a similar pace because I was still running in fear that Lee would be chasing me down to take the win and deflate all my hope of winning the race. I did see headlamps in front and behind me, but nothing that seemed to be a running with red in their eyes coming for blood.

After crossing a paved road and making my way back onto the trail, I had roughly 1.5 miles left and a good portion of that would be the paved road in the state park. Once I hit the paved road, I worked with what I had left and at some point, noticed I was at an 8:10 pace. The really cool thing about tall of this tis is that throughout all of the descending, my legs never once felt heavy or tired or in pain. They just felt like they wanted to go and go fast. What an incredible feeling!!! As I closed in on the final stretch, I could hear some of the campers yelling and encouraging me to push for that finish line. How cool is that!! When I made my way into the community center where the finish line was, my final time was 12-hours and 10 minutes. Wow!! I didn't think I would be anywhere near that kind of a finish time. They announced that I was the winner of the 40-mile race and I just lit up the biggest smile.

All that hard training I have been doing, wondering if I am really doing the right thing or if I am going overboard or even if I am doing enough ... it just all paid off in spades. Yes, the climbs are tough and yes they hurt, but not once was I in the hurt locker. Not once did I feel like I wanted to quite or that my body was just not prepared for the ascending or the descending. I am amazed at how good I felt and can only hope that I will feel as good for the Georgia Death Race. GDR is a MUCH bigger race with a ton of talented runners, so I am not delusional that I stand a chance of getting in the top ten or even top 30-40. What I really want out of GDR is a solid day on the trails with like-minded folks and to have fun. That's always my number one goal. Oh .. and not feel like roadkill by the time I cross the finish line.

#happytrails

Gear

• Smartwool Merino 150 w/ arm warmers - switched to lightweight Smartwool SS at halfway point
• Innov8 Storm Shell - switched to lightweight vest halfway through the race
• Lightweight wool beanie w/ hat
• Injini Thermal Kneehigh socks
• Run Rabbit shorts + compression shorts
• Speedgoat 6 GTX
• Salomon Ultra 10L vest
• Black Diamond Telescoping poles (in Salomon quiver) - never used them
• Snowline Micro Spikes - never user them
• Fenix HM65R-T v2.0 + spare battery + small back up light
• Mylar lined poncho - in case of emergency (mylar blanket required gear for GDR)
• Hand warmers
• Two 170z soft flask bottles
• Collapsable cup - it was a cup-free event
• Mini medical kit + tums + mints
• Emergency whistle - required gear for GDR
• Nutrition: extra powder for bottles + Ziplock bag of various gels / chews / etc.