Nothing more than a bunch of masochists (144Cong.Rec.H69)

I'm not prone to going out on weeknights because, well, I'm old now. But it was hard to pass up an invitation to the 17th Street High Heel Race, in which a variety of cross-dressing, and simply fun-loving, men strap on stilettos to dash 400 meters on downtown DC street. As someone who doesn't like to walk 4 feet in high heels, I admire these racers' perseverance. And apparently, so do many other people: The street was so packed with spectators that I couldn't get a good photo (left). Luckily, as I headed to Stoney's for a post-race meal of an "ultimate grilled cheese," I saw -- and heard -- a crew of singing nuns that had crossed the finish line (right).

Running in heels -- especially while wearing habits -- is pretty sadistic, but it's nothing compared to the race my husband ran a few days later, the aptly-named Mountain Masochist, a 50-mile race through the highlands around the Blue Ridge Parkway in Virginia. Logistics made the race even more challenging for TJ, my little masochist. After we got off work Friday evening, we had to drive four hours to Otter Creek Campground, where TJ got about five hours of sleep in the back of our CRV before the cold and rainy start a couple of miles from the campground (top left). It was still dark at 6:30 a.m., so the runners strapped on headlamps (top right), which reflected nicely in the pond they had to circumvent before starting their first climb (bottom).

Eventually, the rain cleared out, so the morning was mild for a trail run (top left). But as the day wore on, the altitudes got higher and the temperatures got lower. During a loop on the Henry Lanum Trail, flurries set it, making the Mount Pleasant National Scenic Area less than pleasant. However, the snow -- the first of the season, for me -- brought a bit of festivity to the aid station there, which was blasting carols as part of its Christmas theme (top right). Eventually, TJ and the other runners descended to the valley for the last stretch to the finish line at Montebello Camping & Fishing Resort (bottom left). TJ was shivering but satisfied at the end, having finished in less than 10-1/2 hours and placing 92nd out of 354 (bottom right).

As I waited at the aid stations to crew for him, I distracted myself from the cold by enjoying the beauty of the George Washington National Forest (top left). Many jewel-tone leaves were still on the trees surrounding the waterways flowing into the Pedlar Reservoir (top right). TJ even finished during daylight, so we both were able to bask in the the pastel sunset of the Blue Ridge mountains (bottom).

Going home by way of Nelson County's Route 151 through Rockfish Valley, we also basked in some beverages. We stopped for a quick pint at Devil's Backbone Brewing Company, but the bar was so packed that we had to take ours to the patio (left). Luckily, the tasty heft of my Schwartz Bier (TJ had a Striped Bass APA) heated my insides enough that I could ignore the cold, hard picnic tables (right).

Our second stop along the Brew Ridge Trail was Wild Wolf Brewing Company, where I had a Howling Pumpkin Ale along with my shredded pork tacos. TJ toasted his achievement with a juicy burger and Wee Heavy in the bar (left). I was so happy to be within warmth that I forgot to take photos inside; I didn't take these shots until we were back outside walking to our car (right). 

Despite the name of the first race in this post, what really made TJ a masochist was his decision to run a second 50-mile race two weeks later. And I, masochistically, was there once again at the cold and dark -- but at least not rainy -- start of the Stone Mill 50-Miler in Maryland. I was happy that I hadn't spent four hours driving and five hours sleeping in a car the night before, but I was still unsure I would enjoy following TJ around Montgomery County during the first big cold snap in the DMV region.

Nevertheless, I showed up at all the aid stations along the Muddy Branch Greenway Trail, Seneca Creek Greenway Trail, and C&O Canal Towpath. One station, with a belated Halloween theme, brought back fond memories of my marathon training because I ran there during the summer -- when it was warm (top left). Another station was staffed by some friendly faces from the Virginia Happy Trails Running Club that organized The Big Schloss 50K in September, when TJ placed ninth -- and when it was warm (top right). The halfway station was at the Seneca Quarry, an old stone mill that the race is named after (bottom). By this point, the sun was coming out, and I was feeling less grumpy about not spending a warm weekend inside my cozy apartment.

By the fifth or sixth stop where I watched TJ emerge from the woods, I was enjoying the weather so much that I set myself up with a chair so I could do homework, read, or simply enjoy the silence while I waited (left). At the aid station near the Seneca Bluffs Trail, there were a few too many children to find peace, so I watched the remaining leaves flutter down instead (right).

 

Plus, Sage was along for the ride, and I felt bad leaving him in the car when I know he enjoys the brisk air so much. He wasn't much help in watching out for TJ at the aid station at Pennyfield Lock, where you can arrange to stay in an old lockhouse, by the way (left). However, he was much more enthusiastic in congratulating TJ upon his completion of the race (right).

Although he was shooting for under 9 hours after an initial fast pace, TJ still finished with a personal best -- and placed 47th out of 260 (left). He looked so strong at the end that the announcer suggested he could run back to his hometown in Ohio. The volunteers could've used some strength as they tried to help him untie his shoes in order to remove his chip (right).

TJ was lacking in strength himself during our post-race meal. He usually beats me to the bottom of any pint, but at Growlers in Gaithersburg, he slowly sipped his Chesnut Street brown ale, while I quaffed my Skellington pumpkin porter at a normal speed. TJ was so wiped that he had to take half of his prime-rib sandwich home (I had no problem finishing my lamb burger) and had to let me share some of his second drink, a Diamond APA. 

Luckily, I had enough strength to drive us the hour home, which was a much better showing by me than after the previous 50-miler, when I had to hand over the wheel to TJ on the way home. But I did, like the old person I am, fall asleep before 10 p.m. -- and it wasn't even a weeknight.