The rising tide means run for the hills (146Cong.Rec.8103)

In case you didn't know, there are people out there who choose -- pay, even -- to run 100 miles, and my husband is one of them. After doing 50K and 50-mile races, TJ signed up for the Burning River 100, a one-way race through northeast Ohio. Running 100 miles takes, well, a while, so you have to start pretty early in the morning. After making it to Ohio from Virginia at about 9 p.m. on a Friday, we were up again at 2 a.m. Saturday to get to Squire's Castle near Willoughby for the 5 a.m. start (left). The running pack donned neon bracelets and headlamps so they could make their way through the early-morning dark (right).

As TJ made his way from aid station to aid station in Cleveland Metroparks (left) and Cuyahoga Valley National Park (right), he was looking strong. Following him around as his "crew," I was not feeling as energized. I grabbed some sleep whenever I could while waiting for TJ to check in, in the hopes of resting up for my pacing session with him. In perhaps a decision more crazy than his choice to run the race at all, I volunteered to accompany him for 16 miles through the night. I knew that I could in no way pace TJ, since I am not an experienced runner, but I figured I could at least keep him from going off the route or falling off a cliff. When he was going so fast for the first 50 miles, though, I was scared that I wouldn't be able to keep up. Lucky for me, by the time he hit mile 75, he was losing steam. Between some tight muscles and many steep trails, we walked most of the way to mile 91, when we parted ways for him to conquer the final stretch alone.

It started to rain after we split ways, so by the time he crossed the finish line at Falls River Square in Cuyahoga Falls, TJ was soaked as well as spent (left). He came in 78th overall, with a total time just under 28 hours, a few hours short of his target time of 24 hours. But to be sure, his achievement is still remarkable. Of the 300 runners who started the race, less than half even finished, either because they didn't make cutoff times or dropped out. The wear and tear is just too much for some people's bodies, which is why there is free foot care at the end of the race (right). TJ actually fared pretty well, except for his swollen hobbit feet.

So what do you do to top a 100 mile race? Well, run another one, of course, after realizing your rookie mistakes. Unfortunately, there aren't a lot of 100-milers before we leave the States, so in the immediate future TJ will have to settle for another 50K and another 50-miler. He also wanted to do a marathon as a training run, and in yet another crazy decision, I convinced him to sign up for the Freedom's Run, so I could do it, too. With my first marathon only a few months away, I kicked my training into high gear, which means every weekend now must include some way to squeeze in a run.

This makes camping a perfect outing, so during a recent weekend, we headed back to wild and wonderful West Virginia, this time to the Monongahela National Forest (top). On the Saturday, I put in 6 miles in and around the nearby Stuart Day Use Area, and the next day, TJ logged about the same amount, although he submitted to more hills as he ran from the Otter Creek Wilderness (bottom left) up to our campground, Bear Heaven (bottom right). Thankfully, neither of us encountered any bears.

 

We went up some other hills in a more relaxing manner. We drove up to Spruce Knob, the highest point in West Virginia (left), then walked -- not ran -- the 800 feet or so to the observation tower. With this slower pace, we were able to enjoy the wildflowers and butterflies that surrounded us along the trail (right).

But when you're in the middle of marathon training, at whatever pace, you still need to adequately fuel up, right? We found our proteins and carbs in the college town of Elkins. TJ had a tasty burger, and I had a generous grilled mortadella sandwich at The Jabberwock (left). The rock-climbing bartenders there informed us that The Icehouse, a cool bar in an actual old icehouse at Davis & Elkins College (right), had let its liquor license lapse, so we had to look for other locations to re-hydrate.

 

We were also shut out by the Brewstel, a hostel/brewery next door to The Jabberwock. Its owners, once again according to the rock-climbing bartenders, are a little, um, distracted at times, so it's open when it's open, and it wasn't. The next day, we also met an unexpected "closed one day only" sign at Blackwater Brewing Company in Davis. But we finally found some humectation at Mountain State Brewing in Thomas, where we wet our whistles on their Cold Trail Ale, Seneca Indian Pale Ale, Almost Heaven Amber Ale, and Miner's Daughter Oatmeal Stout (left). On our scenic route home, we also stumbled upon Hunter's Head Tavern in Upperville, Virginia, where we washed down Welsh rarebit with one more beer each (right). But hey, it came with a salad, so by Sunday night, we were right back to a lean, mean running machine routine.