Georgia Death Race

Truth of the matter is, I registered for this race knowing nothing about it. I saw a friend had raced it, then a few friends registered, and I got FOMO. After I registered, only then did I look at the race details. DOH! Seventy-four miles and 16k feet of ascending and descending.  Whelp, guess I stepped in it this time.

Started digging deep and training hard with local friends by doing an absurd number of hill repeats. I may have gotten a little carried away with weeks of over 20k feet of climbing, of which one of those weeks was just over 30k feet. Believe it or not, I actually enjoyed most of those sessions. Type A "fun".

The Ohio Crew

Fast forward to March 28th, the day before the race. I had dropped off both of my drop bags at packet pickup, had my vest inspection performed to verify I was carrying all of the required gear, and picked up my official railroad spike that we were all required to carry which is meant to represent our burdens we carry in our lives. Leading up to the race, I had made it a point to sleep 9+ hours every night and slowly moved back my bedtime as well as getting up earlier to close in on what I had to do race morning. I think this served me well. I went to bed at 6pm the night before the race and had to get up at 1am in order to drive to the race finish where I loaded onto a shuttle (school bus) by 2:45am to be taken to the start line with a start time of 5am. That bus ride was about 1.5 hours.

At 5am we were off and running. I knew I wanted to be in the top 1/3 of the race pack so that I could make the most critical cut off which was at 7:50am at the first aid station. The lead up to the gnarliest climb of the day was two miles of mostly road descent onto the trail. I held back as best I could while making sure I still worked well within my zone 2 heart rate. This translated to a 7:50 pace for the first mile and an 8:20 pace for the second mile and got me well ahead of the pack. Not feeling taxed at all, I headed up Coosa quickly getting into a small group that hiked the majority of the climb. There were sections we were able to run, but it was largely a fast-paced hike making sure to take down a couple of gels equating to 90g of carbs in the first hour, not including the tailwind I was drinking.

I was stoked to reach White Oak first aid station well within my estimated time and was 30-minutes faster than I projected. Volunteers, who were all amazing, quickly refilled my bottle with water and I headed back onto the trail. Making sure to eat a gel every 20-40 minutes, I downed another SIS Beta Fuel gel and a Torq gel before arriving at the Mulky Gap aid station. Just as I was about to step down onto the road where the aid station was positioned, I stepped on a root (maybe it was a rock) that was hidden underneath heavy leaf cover and rolled my left ankle hard. As it was happening, I looked down to what I thought was my left ankle at a 90* position parallel to the ground. Oh crap I thought, my race is done. As I limped onto the road one of the volunteers asked if I was ok and mentioned that another runner just did the exact same thing. After taking a few gingerly steps and expecting the worse, everything seemed to be ok. Just a little sore from the sudden and rather unnatural bend. Man was I happy, albeit it cautiously happy. I shifted to the aid station table with the piles of food and quickly gravitated to the avocado wraps. Yum! I have never had avocado wraps during a race, but didn't hesitate to slam a couple of those bit-sized morsels down while volunteers refilled my bottles.

Leaving the aid station, it was almost a blessing that we had to climb out because I wanted to give time for my ankle to come back around to where I knew it would be fine to run. As I ascended the Mulky Gap climb, I could tell my ankle would be fine and as soon as the trail began to level out, I began running. Elated that there was zero pain! Bullet dodged. This next section is one of the two longest sections between aid stations at eight miles. I had more than enough fuel on me, in gels + tailwind + Precision 60g card mix, and as the miles passed by, I continued with my plan of consuming 90g carbs per hour and my stomach was more than happy to process it all. I know this section fairly well after having ran it during the Fierce Dragon 40-mile race. It undulates quite a bit and is mostly runnable. There is a couple mile descent to the third aid station at Skeenah Gap which we then have to back track and ascend. I made great time to Skeenah Gap and by the time I arrived noticed that I had piked up an hour of time over what I had planned for, freaking awesome!! Granted I have never run this race so I was not sure what my times would be, but I used my race time data from Fierce Dragon 40 to come up with some rough estimates. Got to the buffet table, threw down more avocado wraps, refilled my bottles with more tailwind and precision, tossed out the used-up gel packets, and followed one of the lead female runners as we began the climb out. 

Just a bit chonky

As she and I ascended the climb back out, we began seeing other runners coming down. She would give them some encouraging words and the I would say something.  Almost became a game for me to see if I could come up with something different than what she would say every time. We must have had 20+ runners fly past us heading to the Skeenah Gap aid station (21 miles). The absolute best part of this section was knowing that I was going to see some of my Ohio friends. Brian S. came by first, then Gary, then Todd, and finally Ryan. I missed seeing Eric and Brian Pleat before I had to make the turn onto the trail that would lead me to Point Bravo aid station. It was so great getting to see these guys and give each other some encouragement. Everyone was looking so strong and smiling. This was one of the highlights of the race for me. As the female runner and I made our way to Point Bravo I found her pushing me to work hard to keep up. She was such a strong runner and managed to pull away from me before we reached the aid station. As I arrived, the volunteers brough my drop bag to me which I quickly tore into to reload my gels, the pre-loaded powder bag, down the Keytone-IQ shot, and worked to refill both bottles with powder do the volunteers could refill my bottles with water. Just as I was starting to open up my packet of Tator Boost, that female runner looks at me and says "You ready to go? I feel like we are having a great battle out there and it is motivating me to work hard".  While that was very cool to hear, I wasn't about to forego the things I needed to take care of while at the AS just so I can keep pushing. Think I said something like, "I wish I could, but I need a couple more things before I leave. I hope to see you out there but you're killing it and I was barely hanging on". She took off while I finished filling up my Tator Boost packet with water and mixed them up as I heading back onto the trail, but not before stuffing my face with two more of those delicious avocado wraps. I thought for a minute that I ate way too much too quickly as I was nearly finishing off the mashed potatoes. I put the rest in my vest pouch and made my way up the climb out of Point Bravo (27.5 miles). 

Tater Boost, so good

As I looked up the trail head, I could see the trail switch backs and a couple of runners ahead of me. I could hear them talking but couldn't make out what they were saying. As I began to reel them in, mostly because they were hiking and I was getting back to running, I came up behind them and they stepped off the trail to let me by, or so I thought. The second I passed them they jumped in behind me and ran with me. At first, I was a little annoyed because I felt like I was pulling them along, but then they began to chat with me, and I quickly checked my attitude at the door and picked up the conversation with them. They were talking about how at the pace they were maintaining they expected to get a finish time under 19 hours. I honestly had no clue what to expect and was not about to make any predictions on my finish time that might lead me into a false sense of security. As we hit a nice flowing smooth descent, I picked up my pace because I was feeling really good and comfortable. About halfway down I see that female runner hiking down the trail.  She stepped off the trail and as I passed her gave her some encouragement. She slid in behind the other two guys I was with and said she had hit a low point and was struggling. As we ran down the descent, I could tell the chatter was getting quieter and after a few minutes I had dropped all three of them. Not intentionally at all, I just felt that good on this particular descent. Pretty sure this descent dumped me out where we had to cross a swinging bridge which was quite unnerving. As I got onto the bridge it began swinging, as one would expect, but it was swinging so much that I was losing my footing and had to hang onto the side rails to keep my balance. I passed a couple folks that were out sightseeing and said something like "I feel like drunk sailor" and they laughed. After a couple more miles I found myself at the Sapling Gap aid station (32 miles).

Thirty-two miles into the race and I was still feeling good. Not pushing my pace too hard and making sure I was being intentional at the aid stations to refuel, make sure I had everything I needed, and head back onto the trail. The gels I packed continued to go down smoothly without any GI distress or rebelling of the tastebuds. It was around this time that I decided to back off on some of the powder for my bottles and made sure to have one bottle of plain water at all times. I had consumed 14-16 gels by now, plus a bunch of real food, and I wanted to make sure I flushed things out with some plain water. I had many more gels to eat for the remainder of the race and I knew I was ready for it because the plan water was tasting great. I am not generally a fan of plain water, but when I am thirsty, plain water hits the spot.  I don't recall much about the trail from Sapling Gap to Long Creek. I had heard that starting at the Long Creek aid station the trails became less angry and would we get a bit of a reprieve from the technical single track and long climbs. All I had on my mind was "get to Long Creek, get to Long Creek". I felt a sigh of relief when I did finally reach the Long Creek aid station (37.75 miles), knowing that my would get a well-deserved break for a few miles. For the next few miles, the trails indeed calmed down and it was nice to be able to get some constant running in without having to slow down for steep grades. There was a small climb leading into Winding Stairs aid station (43.5 miles) that was a relatively easy climb. I was waiting to encounter the reason for the name Winding Stairs, but the name never revealed itself to me.  Perhaps I was too tired to notice. 

This is Thomas. Wish I could contact him.

Once at the aid station I went through the normal routine of getting my bottles refilled, emptying out my trash pocket from the empty gel wrappers, and then headed to the buffet to see what goodies they had laid out. I did not recognize her immediately, but when the lady asked me how I was doing and if I had seen Tom, her husband it dawned on me who she was, and I am kicking myself for not remembering her name, but I had only just met her the day before at packet pick up. her husband is the one that provided me a lot of assistance during the FlintStrike 40-mile race earlier in the year when he was crewing for his wife who was also running the race. Well, this time her husband was running the race, and she was crewing for him and volunteering at the aid station. I told her that I last saw him as I was climbing out of the Skeenah Gap aid station and that he looked very strong. She mentioned that she had expected to see him by now, but I knew he would likely be at least an hour behind me at this point (he ended up finishing this race in around 22.5 hours). She asked if I wanted some food and while I mentioned I had eaten a number of the avocado wraps she said she would place some in a baggy for me to take with me and I could eat them when I wanted them. Perfect! She gave me three and as I was heading out thanked her profusely and said that I hope Tom is doing well. 

Leaving Winding Stairs was a long descent following by a small climb and some very runnable, flatter terrain that was leading me to the Jake Bull aid station. It was wonderful at how familiar the trails felt. I was recognizing certain banks, switchbacks, and even rock and root formations. I am guessing that is because these trails are, or once were, a part of the Fools Gold 100 Mountain Bike race I had competed in a number of years ago. I would have never thought, at the time, that I would be running ultra marathons. I was imagining me riding my bike across the trails and some of the challenges that come with ripping down single track praying you don't face plant into a tree. I was certainly not moving nearly as fast as I would have been on my bike, but I was moving quite well late into the race. The memories of racing my bike on these trails and gravel roads made this section go by quicker than most and before I knew it I arrived at the Jake Bull aid station (51 miles). As I closed in on the aid station I did a self-assessment. How are my feet feeling? Do I want to change shoes into my comfy New Balance Cadillac shoes? Is my shirt too wet to head into the evening hours or should I change it for a dry shirt? Do I have any other aches or pains that I could use the mini can of Biofreeze on to help ease those pains? Do I want heavier gloves or a heavy beanie in case it gets cold out? The answer to all the questions was a big fat NOPE. I was doing well enough; everything was feeling good or at least good enough that taking the time to change gear out didn't make sense. Before I knew it, I was at the aid station. Woo hoo! This is where my big 2.5 gallon drop bag lay waiting for me with a fresh stash of gels, powder, and additional gear. The volunteers quickly swarmed me asking what I needed, could they refill my bottles (the answer was always yes but first I need to add powder to one of the bottles), and they said I could just throw my trash next to me and they would clean it up for me. Every one of the volunteers was absolutely amazing!! It made for quick refueling stops which allowed me to keep moving and not allow my body to seize up. As I was getting ready to head out the volunteer helping me the most informed me that I would run a few miles and start a very slow gradual climb that would lead me to the next aid station, Halfway House.

As I left the aid station, stuffing my pie hole with more avocado wraps I hit a paved road with probably the most amount of traffic I had seen all day. It wasn't too bad and most of the cars gave a good amount of breathing room. One of the runners that had passed me a while back came up behind me and motored right on by giving me some encouragement, like "you are looking strong, keep it up".  I am pretty sure this was the last time I saw him and he disappeared around a couple of curves in the road before I lost sight of him. The paved road undulated a bit before turning into a dirt road where I began to climb. Before long at the bottom of a small hill there was an easy up and I saw a lady standing by waiting for the next runner to come along. This was the halfway Hours aid station, the aid station before the Nimblewill  aid station, which meant I was about to ascend Nimblewill road. I made a fairly quick stop, where I refilled my bottles, scanned the food selections (nothing for me here this time), chatted with he for a minute and was on my way. I had not been on Nimblewill  ever since the last time I raced that mountain bike race, because the last time I raced it we were sent up and down both sides of this road. I remember it being long but not extremely difficult of a grade. Of course, I had never run it before, but I did drive my Subaru Forrester up and down it one time. That was a big mistake. I ad scratches all along the side of the vehicle from hugging the side of the road to avoid bottoming out the vehicle on some of the more rocky and rutted sections. Not my brightest moment.

Heading up Nimblewill

As I made my way up the climb my left hip started to bother me. At first, I didn't think much of it, but it started to complain more and more. Now, up to this point I had yet to pull out and use my Leki trekking poles. I really wanted to make it to the finish line w/o using them, but I was starting to question that thought. As I was having this internal debate with myself, I heard the clicking of the all too familiar sound of someone using trekking poles coming up behind me. I decided to pick up my pace and do a run / hike but no matter how much I run this guy was getting closer and closer. Eventually I gave in and he came up on me, only hiking, and was moving faster than when I was "running". My goodness this guy could move fast while hiking. I struck up a conversation with him (later figured out his name is Neil) and he told me this would be his fifth finish of GDR. If he could keep his current pace he would come in around 17 hours. My first thought was, if I can keep up with this guy maybe I can finish in17 hours but that thought left my mind real quick as he was just moving too fast for what I could hold. As he began to slip away, we came to a slight downhill and I caught back up. I jokingly told him, "Maybe I should use my trekking poles, I mean I did pay good money for them". To which he said that now is actually the perfect time to use them because you can actually push off and get real assistance. Unlike while on some of the technical trails where it was so off-camber and rutted with leaves that the poles were nearly useless". He made a lot of sense when I thought about it. We yo-yoed with each other for another mile or so until we came upon a longer descent, and I managed to gap him. I could hear the clicking of his trekking poles fade off behind me until I could no longer hear them. The road turned up eventually and just kept going up, and up, and up. There were some signs along the road that I was getting annoyed at. They were just messing with us at how many more miles there were. Reminded me of the type of antics that Danny and Todd use during the Marji Gesick race. The more I ascended the more of the road I recognized. Certain switchbacks and the rockier sections were a reminder of time I rode up the climb. Before long I finally gave in and was tired of my hip bothering me. I made the decision to yank out the poles with the thought that maybe they would help take some of the pressure off my left hip and give me some relief. I looked at my watch and I had made it somewhere around 58 to 59 miles without the use of poles. Good enough for today. As it started to turn dark, I thought for a few minutes that I could reach the top before needing my headlamp, but that ended up not being the case. The darkness finally came, and we were still ascending. I was getting beat down, felt demoralized, and to top it off another two runners came up from behind and passed me. One of them was kind enough to give me some encouragement, because he had most likely heard me yell out a few choice words before I knew anyone was near me. I told him thanks and that they were looking strong. Soon, they were out of my sight, but it wasn't too long afterwards that I began to hear music. As I came to what I thought was going to the top of the climb (it wasn't) there were a few folks that had set up a rather loud sound system and neon lights that were lighting up to the beat of the music. When I began to pass them, they kindly let me know that I needed to take a hard left up onto an ATV two track trail that of course, went up even more. This ATV track had water in some sections that crossed the entire trail, but we still had some room to keep the feet dry. Along the way I recall hearing loud chirping only to discover what seemed like 50+ frogs what I can only imagine were mating calls. Had to be careful not to stick on to the bottom of my shoes and take it for a ride to the finish line. I don't even recall how long the trail was before I finally reached the Nimblewill aid station (62.25 miles). When I reached the aid station, I remember asking the volunteer it this was the Nimblewill aid station and when they replied "yes" I blurted out "thank the good lord". I meant it. Wasn't trying to be funny. That was six miles of climbing and man I was beat. Nearly 16 hours into the race and I still had another 10+ miles to the finish line. I refilled up my fluids but was losing interest in food. My stomach was fine, but I was really focused on getting to the end. The volunteers informed me I had seven miles to the next and last aid station at the Visitors Center, where we had been picked up by the shuttle. 

Seven miles felt like 100 at this point. My hip had started to feel better; I think the poles helped, and while my feet ached, I have been in worse shape. The trek to the visitor's center had more gnarly trails and a small bit of road. The trails were slow going because it seemed like every few minutes, I was kicking a rock or root. Just had a hard time lifting my legs up high enough, even though it felt like I was doing ok. My feet kept getting bashed and bruised. In the heat of battle, my tongue wove a tapestry of obscenities that, as far as I know, are probably still hanging in the air along the trails (some of you may recognize the movie reference on that one). --Raphie

Heading down to the Visitors Center

The drop down to the visitor's center, as I closed in on the Amicolola State Park was rough to say the least. This reminded me of what Danny and Todd thrown at you at the end of the Marji Gesick race. Nasty, sharp, pointy angry rocks with some drop offs that had I not had my poles I would have for sure faced planted more than once. I'm convinced Danny and Todd were involved somehow. As the race director stated, you think you are at the end because you can see the finish and hear the music (at least there was no food to smell) and then you head to the left to ascend the paved path and stairs to the top of the largest falls in the state. I did very little research on what these stairs would entail but was more than a little surprised once I finished them. You start off on a nice, paved path which seems harmless enough, but then the pitch continues to rise up to the point where it felt steeper than some of the trails we ascended. Finally, you each the stairs and these stairs are not conducive to using poles because they are metal with holes in them. Definitely not pole friendly. When you reach the stairs there is some writing at the bottom that says "175". So you're like ... only 175 steps? I got this! Then you reach the next set that say "164" ... and you're like ... ummm ... sure, I can do that. It doesn't stop. The stairs just keep going. All six hundred of them. I know because I counted. it was all I could do to keep my mind engaged on the ascent. AS I made my way up, I noticed there were two other runners behind me, perhaps trying to close the gap. Not like I had an ounce of energy to "race" but I did not dawdle on my way up. Got to the top and you are met with a paved road which at this point can only go down. AS I began running down the road, and it was steep, my watch warned me I was off course. Damn, I must have missed a trail entrance. So I turned around and headed back of the climb to the top. At this point one of the runners that was behind me crested the stairs and started to head down. I started to chat with him asking if he thought the road was the way back to the finish line and he confirmed that it was and that my GPS was likely just off or a bit wonky. Not unusual because it had shown me off course a couple times throughout the day when there was no way I had ever deviated off course. So, I turn around and head down thinking this guy is going to just pass me and I will be down yet another spot. That never happened. He must have been hurting worse because while I was moving slowly, he was taking his sweet time. Naturally, you don't end on an easy road section. They turn you let off the road onto some steep nasty little trail that has drop off steps and stupid steep grades. Right before they dump you into the river to cross to the finish line, yes there is a perfectly good bridge, but they block it off and you are forced to go through the river, the trail heads straight down, with zero switchbacks and it's steep and loose. As I made my way into the river and crossed it, the water felt so good on my feet that I wanted to just stand in it for a while because a good part of the day I was hoping we would pass across a river or stream to soak in and cool off.  My finish time was roughly nineteen hours and 10 minutes. 2.5 hours faster than I had planned.

Done and dusted I was so happy to have complete the race. This race goes into the books as one of the top three hardest races I have done. The final act was to remove the railroad spike I carried in my pack and to drop it into the coffin, symbolizing me off loading my burdens. They give you a new spike that has Georgia Death Race etched in it as your finished award. Pretty cool. While they did not really off standard food at the end, there was a table of cookies, donuts, and other goodies, so I grabbed three cookies and a jelly donut that I brought back to my room . I was also happy that they had the drop bags already back and ready to be picked up which meant I did not have to wait around of drive back later to retrieve them. Finally got back to my room around 1am, showered, ate my sugar filled treats, used my compression boots and turned the light off around 2am. I managed to get 6 hours of restless rest before loading up the car and driving ten hours back home. I think that was the second hardest part of the race.

In the end, I placed second in the M50 age group, 40th overall, and 30th male out of a total number of runners of I think 210?? Not bad for my first, and possibly not my last, GDR experience.

I had such a blast leading up to this race. Lots of fun talk with the other Ohio runners taking on the GDR challenge. We talked about all sorts of things from training, to race tactics, gear, weather, and you name it and we probably talked about it. The entire experience was amazing and makes me want to pick another race with these guys and do it all over again. I absolutely love this community!!