I wasn’t intimidated by the Catamount 50K in Northern Vermont, despite its 5,000 feet of elevation gain. The past two months had been a blur of hill repeats, pounding my quads, glutes, and calves into submission at Prospect Hill Park—a local treasure with a short but brutal 400-foot climb. On other days, I’d hit the buttery trails near home for speedwork. I felt strong, injury-free, and ready for this challenge, with the Vermont 100 miler looming just 2.5 weeks away.
We stayed at the Trapp Family Lodge in Stowe to be within walking distance of the starting line and, frankly, to indulge in some much-needed frivolity. After months of no getaways since Christmas, it felt like time. The lodge, with its storied history (inspired The Sound of Music, rebuilt after a fire, and… not much touched since), was equal parts charming and overpriced.
Still, the proximity to the start made race morning feel downright luxurious. Two minutes from the line, in my private bathroom, I shoved nut bars into my mouth and applied anti-chafe petroleum with the dignity of a princess preparing for battle.
At the starting line, everyone looked fierce—because it’s a 50K, and that’s just the vibe. We set off with the energy of a pack of over-caffeinated deer, prancing up the first big hill at an unsustainable pace. I told myself to slow down, but the herd had its pull, and my heart rate was already yelling at me.
Loop 1: Finding Rhythm (15.5 miles, 2:35)
The first loop unfolded predictably: climbs, descents, mud, and a surprising number of people passing me early on. I let them go, sticking to my plan. The course was tough but rewarding—steep ascents, rolling trails, and just enough mud to make shoe choice matter. The grassy uphill section, featuring a conveniently placed photographer, was my least favorite. (Mental note: braid hair next time to avoid finishing with a bird’s nest.)
By the time I finished the first loop, Mr. P and Little Boy were waiting with fresh socks—much needed after navigating those thick, swampy patches of mud. At the aid station, an older volunteer kindly refilled my handheld bottle, but it was obvious who he was catering to. “I want a banana,” Little Boy said. “Me too,” I muttered. Guess who was cute enough to dotingly get the banana;-)
Loop 2: Cautious, Not Slow (15.5 miles, 2:49)
I started the second loop intentionally slow. Let’s call it “cautious.” The first loop’s faster-than-expected pace had me dreaming of a 50K PR, but I was feeling the strain and hadn’t eaten enough. The aid stations, while plentiful in spirit, were heavy on whole-wheat PB&Js that turned to sun-baked bricks in my hands. Still, I kept moving, passing some runners and getting passed by others, pacing myself through the endless climbs and descents.
Somewhere in the final miles, I had a memorable aid station encounter. A group of senior lodge guests watched me sprint out at an 8-minute mile pace, rogue jelly smeared across my hands, hydration bottle, and shirt. Their concerned faces said it all: this woman is feral. But I was too focused to care. I kept pushing, knowing I was close to the finish.
The Finish: A Strong PR (5:24)
The final stretch was all mental. My legs were sore, my stomach protested the PB&Js, but I kept running, spurred on by the thought of pizza, beer, and a post-race soak. I crossed the line in 5:24, a 50K PR, finishing 27th out of 96 runners and 7th woman out of 32. The hardest 50K course I’ve run, but also the most rewarding.
The rest of the day was a blur of pizza, beer, hot tub reviews from Mr. P, and post-race chatter. I soaked it all in, grateful for a strong race, a beautiful course, and a rare weekend getaway. The Catamount 50K delivered everything I could’ve asked for—and more rogue jelly than I ever anticipated.
