The inaugural running of the Twin State 50K and 50-miler took place last Sunday, and the conditions were nothing short of ideal. Blue skies, warm sun, minimal mud—exactly what you want in an ultra. The event had that welcoming, fat-ass race spirit—minimal support, no medals, no official timing—just runners getting together for a shared challenge. The race director, with his eccentric and entertaining emails, set the stage for a relaxed but well-organized event, complete with inspiring runners to chat with along the way.
With Miwok looming less than a month away, I needed a hard, hilly run. The Twin State 50K fit the bill perfectly. Starting in Windsor, Vermont, the course used some of the same dirt roads from last summer’s Vermont 100, which I remembered all too well. I’d signed up for the 50-miler, though I knew it was a bit optimistic. My thought was if I was feeling great, I’d push through the 50 miles, but with Miwok so close, I couldn’t risk overexerting myself and being laid up for the next two weeks.
The area’s roads all seem to have “Hill” in their names—Silver Hill, Juniper Hill, Cow Hill, Meadow Hill… You get the idea. The uphills were brutal, but I train for those. What I don’t train for, however, are the quad-busting downhills on hard-packed mud. Maybe I should. By mile 20, I could feel my knees and quads protesting. Pushing through 30 more miles was out of the question. I decided to focus on Miwok instead and saved the abuse for another time.
I don’t like saying, “I failed to run 50 miles.” I prefer to say, “I ran a 50K!” A hilly, quad-busting 50K, no less. I finished in the middle of the pack in 5 hours, 38 minutes—pretty solid for me, especially considering the 5500 feet of elevation gain and the fact that I was pacing myself for a 50-miler for the first 20 miles. I was still running strong at the end. With Miwok ahead, I know the course elevation and distance are about half of what I just ran, so I’ll definitely slow the pace, but I’m confident I can finish in the 16-hour cutoff.
One of the highlights of the race was crossing two covered bridges at the end, one going into and out of New Hampshire (hence the race’s name). The first bridge, spanning the Connecticut River, carried a lot of car traffic, while the second was small and deserted. I had a runner with me at the time who took my picture in front of it.
I finished at the local high school at noon, wrote my time on a piece of paper, and walked over to the playground to meet up with my support crew. After a quick shower (thank goodness for late check-out) and a trip to Harpoon’s Brewery for some post-race food and drinks, I couldn’t have asked for a better training run or a more rewarding experience.
