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by Sapan Bhatt
How much pickle juice are you willing to drink? Barring Vlasic from having a contest to win sports tickets, I didn’t think this was a query I’d encounter in my life. But that’s the magic of Pineland Farms. My mission this year was to send the 50k with gusto.
The Pineland Farms Trail Festival is a fantastic weekend-long event to announce the arrival of summer. Saturday’s events center on traditional trail runs of 25, 50, and 100 kilometers (one, two, and four laps of the course respectively, the course weaving through 14 miles of the property with 1,500 feet of gain). Sunday’s events center on canicross, a collaborative human-with-dog running event (in which we’ve had several Striders participate in the past). Spanning the two days is a 30-hour ultra, which consists of completing as many loops of a 10k course as possible.
That mix creates a lively vibe on the farm with tents, spectators, and crew welcoming runners to the start of their respective events. For me, the adventure started on my drive to Gray, with backroads taking me through the bucolic countryside of Auburn and Greene. These drives make me appreciate Maine’s billboard ban leaving the farms and forests unobstructed.
Pulling up to the farm, the memories and experience of running the course the previous year flooded my mind. The smooth, flowing nature of the trails belies the elevation gain, allowing for a strong and consistent pace. Rather than my previous year’s gear of trail shoes and a running vest, I opted for carbon-plated shoes (my trusty Saucony Pro 4s) and a single hydration bottle filled with hi-carb Tailwind.
There are two aid stations, each passed twice per loop, giving four opportunities for aid per 25k. My goal was to use my bottle fuel for the first lap, allowing myself to cruise through the stations, and then start supplementing for lap 2. Last year, the featured gel on course was Untapped, a delicious electrolyte-enhanced maple syrup. This year featured the equally tasty Go gel, which tastes like applesauce and packs a solid 75mg of caffeine per pouch.
From the starting gun, I used my course knowledge to push the pace and establish some early separation. I quickly lost myself in the serenity of the woods and fields, re-familiarizing myself with the undulating paths weaving through the farmland. The weather was sunny but relatively cool, keeping me comfortable as I kept the Tailwind flowing into the engine. I offered words of encouragement to the 100k runners as I weaved through my first loop, transitionining seamlessly into the second loop while counting on the next aid station to refill my bottle and restock my gel cache.
I rolled into the station and immediately went to the large Gatorade cooler to fill up. Nothing but air. Maybe Pineland is like the feast scene in "Hook," I thought, and I just have to really believe there's water? Upon my inquiry, the attendant snapped me back to reality. He was "temporarily out of water" but reached below the table, pulled up two green jugs, and exclaimed, "We have plenty of pickle juice!"
Squeezing my empty bottle and facing a warming day, the choice was clear. I popped off the cap and poured 16 ounces of pure, unfiltered brine (aka "runners' moonshine") into my bottle. It immediately began to foam as I screwed on the cap and took my first swig. I thought of dehydrated sailors drinking seawater as the wave of salt and sour hit my tastebuds. Thankfully, this concoction would only have to last me until the next station, where I hoped I could dilute it with water.
I went with a lighter gear setup than last year. I used old lifting gloves to protect my hands in case of a fall and ran in the famous "Runnning" singlet of 2019.
As the miles and elevation accumulated, my engines began to dim (dropping about 20 seconds per mile) and I started to get cramping sensations. I kept the Go gels going (one of my biggest racing assets is my iron stomach) and fueled liberally as I crested past my 22-mile long-run maximum into deeper waters of distance running. Completing a few mountainous 50ks over the last year has made me more comfortable with this kind of distance and time on my feet. A lot of running these types of races is having the reassurance that you’ve been in this situation before and you have the ability to finish strong.
I crossed the 50k finish in 3 hours 30 minutes, 23 minutes faster than last year, and 12 minutes ahead of second place. I quickly posed for a couple photos for Allyn from Maine Running Photos and, determined to get the Strava recognition for the distance, took to the road to run the last 3 miles before the adrenaline faded.
The Pineland Farms post-race is always fantastic, with live music and a delicious farm store serving specialty hot sandwiches as well as salsa, cheeses, and meats from what’s produced on the farm. I caught up with my buddy Patrick, who has run the 50k with me both times, as well as Rob (who won the 25k), and Darren, a staple on the Maine running circuit.
If you’re looking for a fantastic, local trail race that has great energy and is not too technical or intimidating, I would recommend Pineland Farms. Even outside the races, visiting the farm is a great family event with disc golf, animals, and nature trails.
Until next time ✌🏾
Sapan
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by Mark Fisher
This was a year of significant change for the trip up the Rockpile. Among the changes to the 2026 Mount Washington Road Race were a significant drop in race capacity (from about 1,000 to 500 runners), shuttle service offered for the trip down, and food trucks versus Harts Turkey Farm for lunch to name a few.
We clearly appreciate the effort needed to put on a race in such a rugged, unpredictable, and ecologically sensitive environment as Mount Washington. Keeping it safe and reducing the impact on this amazing ecosystem is a challenge for sure.
This also meant a significant reduction in team lottery bypass slots for the Striders. Volunteers needed from the club were still five, but our slot allotment went from five runners to just two. Thank you to our Striders volunteers who helped again this year with Friday parking duty during packet pickup. Dean and Amy Rasmussen and Mark and Linda Fisher represented the club in our orange vests and authoritative flags, and we were treated to an amazing light and cloud show from the mountain.
The race-day weather on Saturday was uncharacteristically mild with warm temperatures (borderline hot) with almost no breeze the entire way up. It was unusual to have no wardrobe additions as you ascended the Mount Washington Auto Road for 7.6 miles. The views were spectacular with some broken clouds at the summit.
We had two striders running up the mountain in 2026.
Dean Rasmussen finished his 44th in a row MTWRR with a time of 2:32:44 to finish second in his age division. Another amazing year for Dean!
Mark Fisher completed his 19th MTWRR with a time of 1:55:26 for 10th in his age group.
The race organizers commented that they hope next year to make the race “bigger.” The Mount Washington Road Race continues to be a special running experience boasting the tag line, “Just One Hill”.
Race photos courtesy of Joe Viger Photography
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Alan, Kyle, and Sapan at the Boston finish line after bib pickup
by Sapan Bhatt
The Boston Marathon is a cornerstone of the Northeast running calendar. As the region's own "Hometown Major," it feels especially personal—made even more intimate by the fact that it is held on Patriots' Day, a holiday celebrated only in Maine and Massachusetts.
That personal connection was apparent when I serendipitously ran into friends Alan and Kyle from the Maine Harriers running club at the Sunday Expo the day before the race back in April. We made our way around the convention floor, stopping by booths from Shokz and Maurten. Being a bit of a treadmill aficionado, the highlight for me was seeing the machine on which Ashley Paulson broke the 100-mile treadmill record (12:47:10) in a live event just the previous day.
After a quick photo at the finish line and my ritual stop at the Lindt store to sample their "flavor of the day" truffle (strawberry cheesecake, which was on point), I headed to my parents' house to get some rest.
In addition to buses shuttling runners from Boston to the start in Hopkinton, the marathon offers several parking lots in Hopkinton with shuttles to Athletes’ Village and back from the finish line. This is a great feature because it greatly expands where you can stay before the race. I saw many hotels around the Hopkinton area for under $200/night for marathon weekend, which is half of what you’ll find in downtown Boston.
My parents dropped me off at one of these lots on race morning. Conditions were brisk with temps starting in the low 30s. I wrapped myself in an old winter jacket and took a shuttle bus to Athletes’ Village. Athletes’ Village is a sprawling complex about 0.75 miles from the start line. Even with my early arrival being part of the first wave, the village was full of runners. I think the distance to the start is perfect for a warm-up, but the village itself is a bit overwhelming. I made my way over to my start corral and ran into fellow Strider and my Boston training partner, Rich Drown. It was great to share some encouragement and positive vibes with him and the runners around us as we waited the final minutes for the start of our Boston voyage.
That first mile is a generous downhill (100-foot drop), but it takes five to six miles for space to open up. Weaving through runners, we went through that first mile in 6:26 where my goal was 6:10s for a 2:42 finish. I upped the pace as Rich and I searched to find the right group and space to settle in. One augmentation that worked well for me was I made a disposable water bottle out of a restaurant squeeze bottle and rubber band. This allowed me to take fluids and fuel during the first half of the race while minimizing trips with the herd to the water stations. I was able to focus on finding a groove in the center of the road and getting comfortable, rather than thinking about the next aid station.
To me, running in a major marathon seems like how a fish perceives swimming in a large school. Various arrangements of runners (like six moving in sync in a perfect row) would form and disperse as this river of humanity made its way to Boylston Street. The crowds were as lively and raucous as the previous year. A friend told me that as a runner at Boston, you’re the star that day and the spectators and volunteers make you feel it.
The Wellesley Scream tunnel punctuated the first half with a wall of sounds spiking your adrenaline as co-eds strained across the barriers to get a high-five. The body and fueling were doing well through the first half, but I knew the Newton Hills would be the test. The year prior, I cramped at the summit of Heartbreak Hill and had to fight the final five miles to get across the finish. Moving through the hills this year, I felt stronger and fresher, which I attribute to more outdoor workout with intervals at the later miles. I was able to get to the top of Heartbreak with energy in the tank and then stepped on the gas.
Sapan with friend Jonah after the race
The final five miles are mostly downhill with the crowds building significantly once you pass Boston College. I used the Hoka motto "Fly Human Fly" as my mantra as I gauged the distance with my remaining energy levels to ensure I maintained control. I remember the crowd being eerily quiet and still along Boylston Street, maybe as a reaction to seeing so many humans pushing with every bit of energy they have to cover that last 400 meters. I spied the clock in the corner reading 2:41, which made me excited that I reached my goal.
It was a good 15 minutes before I realized that the clock was marking the start of Corral 1 and having started later in Corral 4, I had actually run a 2:39. The result exceeded my expectations and redefined what I believed possible for myself. At the finish, I ran into my friend Jonah, with whom I’ve twice run Millinocket. I first met him as he was getting off the shuttle bus at Stearns High School, so it was fitting to see him as he was boarding another shuttle bus to return to Hopkinton.
Boston 2026 was a fantastic experience and not just because of the conditions or the time I ran. It was the first race I’ve been in which my parents spectated, and I cherish the opportunity to reconnect with friends and meet new ones who share this passion. Shout out to Striders members Rich, Kristina, and Lindsay for running great races (if I’m omitting anyone, congratulations to you too!) and thank you to Patrick, Billy, and all the Striders who came down to cheer. See you next year, Boston!
Sapan in his parents' driveway post-race
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Date: June 21, 2025
Location: Fort William, Scotland
Last summer, I spent nine days walking the West Highland Way, a beautiful 96-mile trek through western Scotland, with my fiancée, Julie Millard. We finished in the city of Fort William and celebrated by sharing drinks and stories with a few friends we had met on the trail. The next day was my 50th birthday, and I wanted to commemorate it by dipping my toe into the local culture of “fell” running. Fell running is a sport originating in Scotland that isn’t just trail running; in fact, there often aren’t trails of any kind. It’s a scramble across “fells” (high, often trackless hills) where racers are expected to traverse bogs, thick heather, and VERY steep gradients. The Eagles Crag Hill Race, organized by the Lochaber Athletic Club, was a relatively short fell race: a mere 8.6 km out-and-back that included a small section of the West Highland Way. I naïvely thought that anything under 10 km couldn’t be THAT challenging.
hard to get lost.” A fellow racer overheard the conversation and handed me a map of the area which didn’t alleviate my fears as a navigationally-challenged runner.
A few minutes later, about 25 runners gathered at the starting line. The race director pointed to a blurry silhouette on the horizon. “Just go toward Graham at the top of the hill,” she cheerfully instructed. “Then you’ll head down to the trail.” I assumed that we weren’t going to go all the way to that tiny speck (was it even a person?), and that there surely would be some turnoff to a smaller hill before then.
The descent was a revelation in Scottish toughness and bravery. The other runners flew straight down the hill, using the thick vegetation—a mix of heather, grass, and ferns—to catch their weight with each step. I was quickly gapped and found myself alone, eventually hitting a section of the West Highland Way. Seeing no one in front or behind me, I forlornly studied the map and decided to just keep going along the trail. I was greatly relieved when I reached a race marshal who pointed me off the trail and back over the hill I had just descended.
The final stretch was a gauntlet of obstacles. I encountered fences topped with barbed wire and, seeing no gates, had to climb over them before hurrying across pastures of disinterested sheep. There were long stretches of tangled thickets that I just had to claw through. At one point, I was sure that I was completely lost, but I eventually spotted some shapes (fellow racers, I hoped) moving uphill in the distance. I started pausing to rest after every step. My watch, unhelpfully, repeatedly asked if I was finished with the workout. I finally crested the ridge again
from the opposite direction, received a high-five from a volunteer, and began the quad-burning stumble back to the start. The finish line sat just across a burn (small stream). I didn't even bother looking for a dry path and splashed straight through the water to finish in just under two hours.
The Eagles Crag Hill Race wasn’t my most outstanding run, but it was a memorable way to mark a significant birthday. I left with two tired and scratched legs, a bit of a bruised ego, and massive respect for the fell runners of Scotland.
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I can’t think of a better race to start the year than the January Thaw. Coming off the holidays it’s a great opportunity to come together and see faces both new and familiar.
This year's edition saw 22-degree crisp air and roads which were a bit slushy in spots. It’s fun to scroll back through old Thaw photos and see it’s truly a roll of the dice what type of weather we get. But that keeps it interesting.
Start of the 4.5-mile race, you’re working to catch your breath in the cold. I found the strip of asphalt in the middle to be the most stable. I took the liberty of going a little bit into the road on the first climb. I received a supportive honk from a plow truck and was amused at the sight he was about to see of a herd of runners coming up the hill.
The road in mile 2 has a camber that would make Sugarloaf blush. The bit of downhill was a welcome reprieve from the initial climb. Mile 3 is always the trickiest. It’s a steady climb instead of one big hill to punch up. I kept looking at my feet as Billy and I slogged through it.
The next thing I knew, I saw Lindsay shouting encouragement and directing the turn down that big hill to start Mile 4. The slush made the road a bit more precarious than years past, but offered a fun ride. My favorite view on the course was where Alicia was perched taking our great race photos. That sweeping view of the horizon before you make the last turn back into the school road, amazes me every time. It was especially pretty this year with the wind whipping snow into the air.
The after event was a lot of fun. I especially enjoyed getting photos with Ian and his penguin suit and chatting with fellow racers. Many thanks to all the volunteers, our race director Ron, volunteer coordinator Tom, and especially Julie for crafting such beautiful penguin trophies. Here’s to a great year of running for all!
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In September I and fellow Strider Nick Erickson took part in the Ragnar Reach the Beach Relay Race on a team with 10 other runners. This event began in Lancaster, New Hampshire, early on Friday, September 12, and ended at Hampton Beach, New Hampshire, the next day. The course covered 204 miles split into 36 segments, which equated to three legs per runner for our team.
The race is similar in structure to the Downeast Sunrise Trail Relay, in that racers run their leg while their teammates drive to the next handoff point, and the team runs continually, day and night, until their last runner crosses the finish line. However, this race is twice as long as DESTR (204-ish miles versus DESTR’s 102.7), and teams have a size limit of 12 runners instead of eight. Teams also must have two vehicles, with half of the team in each vehicle.
The concept is for one van with six runners to cover the first six legs, while the second van leapfrogs ahead to the van exchange point at the start of leg seven. When the first van arrives at the van exchange point, they recover their runner then drive the next van exchange at the end of leg 12, while the second van covers legs 7-12. The pattern repeats for all 36 legs, with van exchange points at the end of legs 6, 12, 18, 24, 30, and at the finish line at the end of leg 36.
Each runner runs an average of 17 miles in total, although variations in the course mean some will run more or less than that (I ended up running 11.2 miles, but I did have one of the steepest climbs in the course on my first leg).
Another major difference between DESTR and Reach the Beach is the number of participants. DESTR is limited to 400 racers to protect the Downeast Sunrise Trail from overuse, while Reach the Beach runs almost exclusively on roads and is not subject to a cap on participants. This year, 308 teams ran Reach the Beach, putting the number of racers well over 2,000.
The number of racers poses some major logistical challenges for the race organizers. Fortunately, the Ragnar races are pretty well staffed and equipped and have experience planning events like this across the country. Every handoff point and van exchange location was chosen to ensure there would be plenty of parking available and sufficient space to ensure the safety of runners and observers. Vendors were invited to be present at van exchanges points, so that in their downtime racers could get food, beverages, sports massages, and race swag.
I ran as part of Team Lavi, named after an orphanage in Haiti that was sponsored by our team captain and her husband. The naming of most of the relay teams present at Reach the Beach was very much like a list of pub trivia teams, mostly puns and some self-effacing humor. There was also a very robust “van culture” present at this race. Each team requires two vehicles that can accommodate at least six people, so most teams rent large passenger vans like the GMC Savana or Ford Transit. As a result, most teams end up driving a big white van that looks like every other big white van. To counter this, most teams get washable paint markers and draw all over their vans to make them visually distinct. Some teams even get custom magnets made, and will trade magnets with other teams, or try to “tag” other vans with their magnets.
A common theme for marking vans is to list the runners’ names next to check boxes that get marked off as they complete their legs. A lot of teams will use the rear of their vans to count their “kills”, which is the number of runners that their team collectively pass on each leg. I told my van mates that I thought the word kill was overly dramatic and that we should find another euphemism, so they decided that a “souls harvested” counter would be a better alternative. I disagreed, but I was outnumbered…
Team Lavi ended up completing the race in 30:24:59, placing 96th overall and 8th in our class (Standard Mixed Team-Open), with an average mile time of 8:56. Overall I had a great time and recommend the Ragnar Reach the Beach relay with the caveat that it is expensive. Registration fees can range close to $200 per registrant, especially if you wait until the last minute to sign up. Additionally, teams need to reserve rental vans early, because this event uses up pretty much all of the large passenger vans available to rental agencies in New England. If you like long-haul relays like DESTR, then I recommend checking out the Reach the Beach relay, or any other Ragnar relay event.
Some of Team Lavi's van art
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Mark Fisher, Chris Chadwick, John McGinty, Dean Rasmussen, Peter Leone
Another year of the Mount Washington Road Race is in the books. Given the low temperatures and winds, the race officials decided to take a cautious approach and halt the June 14th race at the halfway point on the auto road. While it was disappointing to see the race cut short this year, it was a reasonable approach given the risks that are part of changing weather on the “rock pile”.
First, Central Maine Striders showed up in force on Friday night to support the volunteer effort with parking duty. Linda Fisher, Peter Leone, Ron Paquette, Donnajean Pohlman, Beth Bridger, and Jay Bachelder all provided directional parking guidance for three-plus hours on Friday evening. Providing these volunteers allows the club to secure five bypass entries to the race each year (all club bypass entries were used this year). Thank you so much, volunteers, for supporting the club and this amazing event!
On race day, despite the course being cut short, conditions to halfway could not have been much better. Cool temperatures and mist made for a pretty comfortable trip up. The views were spectacular with low clouds dotting the surrounding mountainsides. Coming back down was a quad busting 4-mile downhill trip, but on the upside, no car brake smell this year. The race organizers again did an outstanding job and the turkey dinner was a wonderful reward for the racing effort.
—Mark P. Fisher
markfisher3340@gmail.com
Mobile: 603-340-1987
Official Delta Dental race photos courtesy of Joe Viger Photography. All other images courtesy of Mark Fisher.
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I’ve been hearing about the Ultra-Trail Australia (UTA) race series for several years. The UTA is associated with UTMB (Ultra-Trail Mont Blanc), one of the most prestigious trail running races in the world. The UTA is held in Australia's Blue Mountains National Park, in the town of Katoomba where my sister and her family live. Her kids and various other family members and friends have run in these races in the past. We were planning a visit for this spring, and my sister encouraged my husband (Henning) and I to join her for the UTA22, a half marathon running along the fire trails and single track through the park. It sounded like a great event to arrange a visit around.
Training for this canyon trail race was challenging in the Maine winter. The UTA22 has an elevation gain of 1,177 meters (3,861 feet). Ironically, we ran the On the Run Half Marathon in Old Orchard Beach—The World’s Flattest Half Marathon—as part of our training (my time 2:19, Henning’s time 2:12). We traveled to Australia a few weeks before the race to do some backpacking and worried that the time away from running would tank our readiness, but six days hiking with heavy packs through the mountains of Tasmania turned out to be just what we needed.
The first five miles are all downhill on a fire road through old growth eucalyptus forests. Picture the steepest sections of the Quarry Road Trails and add slippery mud. I know that running downhill can wreck your legs just as much as uphill does, but I was able to keep an easy brisk pace the whole way down. Then the uphill began. The next five miles were mostly steeply uphill. All of the racers were walking up the steep long hills and running the short downhill stretches.
I’m going to attribute some of my late-race freshness to proper fueling. Years ago I read that a 13-mile run is too short to require fueling, and I’ve never been one to eat or drink much during a long race. I think the wisdom on this—or my understanding of it—has changed. I carried electrolytes (LMNT Mango Chili) and water, and took a maple syrup or chia gel every 30 to 45 minutes. I think this really helped a lot.
Our race was only half the fun. My niece was crewing and pacing her boyfriend in the UTAMiler (100 miles). Unfortunately he had to DNF after 107K due to knee issues. My nephew ran the UTA100 (100K). We were able to catch up to him at several spectator locations and checkpoints and follow his progress as he battled it out for first place with one of the three other young men in his age group (18-19 years). He started out in front, fell behind in the middle, and then surged ahead in the last 22K. All of the longer races (50K, 100K, UTAMiler) finished with the same stretch of trail as the 22K that we ran. My nephew ran this section in 3 hours 45 minutes—20 minutes faster than me after spending the day covering 78K. He finished at 12:30 at night with a time of 17 hours and 49 minutes. So impressive! Bonus—the age group winners score a direct entry slot at UTMB in France next year; maybe we will go and crew for him there!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z5hJxj9DmUc
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Date: Saturday, May 24th, 2025
Location: Pineland Farms, New Gloucester, Maine
Distance: 50K (It’s actually only 28 miles, but still technically an Ultra)
Weather: Cloudy and cool with a couple showers
Sapan in orange at the start of the 50K (Photo: Maine Running Photos/David Colby Young)
Pineland Farms is a stunning venue located in the scenic hills of New Gloucester, Maine, where rolling fields meet dense woods and well-maintained trails. The farm produces many fine products including cheeses which you can find at Hannaford. The Trail Festival at Pineland Farms is held every Memorial Day weekend and features a variety of events. Saturday offered 25K, 50K, and 100K races, which were one, two, or four loops of the (slightly short) 14-mile course, and Sunday offered shorter races and dog-human canicross competitions. Spanning both days was the 30-hour ultra where runners completed as many miles as possible along a 10K loop (the solo winner, Jason Bigonia, hit 22 laps and 150 miles!).
Arriving on race day, the scene was heartening. The farm crew and the volunteers worked all weekend in the rain and chilly conditions to make sure things were ready for the runners. The start/finish area, where race organizers set up tents, is located right next to the parking lot. Check-in was quick and I headed to my car to change and stay warm before the start.
The Course
The course is fairly runnable (1,700 feet of climbing over 14 miles per loop) with wide sweeping trails and some flat sections in the grasslands. The climbs can be steep, but short, and the trails aren’t technical. The main factor, especially as the day progressed, was dealing with mud and soggy conditions. I went with my trusty Saucony Peregrines (you could go with something like Hokas, but I appreciated the extra traction) as well as a running vest. I got this Aonijie vest for $40 and thought it did very well. If I trail ran more, I would spring for something premium, but this was a nice snug fit for people looking to carry hydration on longer runs.
The loop featured four aid stops that were decently well spread over the loop. They were stocked with giant water jugs and my course favorite, Untapped maple syrup energy gels. You could definitely get away with just a handheld bottle and gels in your pockets. The first loop I did with the vest, light jacket, and gloves and then as I warmed up, I ditched all those and just ran with one of the vest’s soft bottles.
Sapan in orange at the start of the 50K (Photo: Maine Running Photos/David Colby Young)
Race Highlights
At the start, Andrew Combs, the eventual winner (who also set the course record in 3:24:29) took off like a bullet. I was relieved as if there were any bears on the course, I would likely not be eaten. My plan was to take the first loop steady and get a feeling for the work that would need to be done on loop 2. I wanted to stay hydrated and charged as the majority of work would be done in the last 8 miles.
Loop 1 went smoothly and I credit the Striders’ Saturday runs for making me feel dialed-in to the 14-mile distance. The scenery was fantastic; sweeping meadows encapsulating forests, never too exposed to the elements. I understand trail runners saying they like to "play" in the mountains. You have a different connection to the course versus road running. The pacing with this type of distance and incline is also very different. Your muscles get strained and pushed, but your heart rate isn’t spiking to threshold. What you gain by going slower is depleted by the elevation changes and this course pushed me into some of the strongest mental autopilot I’ve experienced.
After getting through the first loop, I took a quick break at my drop bag to refuel and shed some gear. I felt like an F1 car getting new tires and set out on loop 2 feeling strong. Then, the rain started. My core was warm enough but my hands started to numb to where I struggled to get the gels out of my pockets. The course was also getting muddier and more worn which required more attention and discipline on the footfall. The conditions forced me to stay in the moment and focus on pushing forward.
I grabbed three Untapped gels at the next station and refilled my bottle. Having lost the dexterity to go into my pockets, I held them like my sword and shield, leading me into battle for the next 10 miles. For someone who's loyal to salted watermelon Gu, the Untapped is really good. It’s more liquid than Gu and the familiar maple syrup taste makes it easy to go down. My one critique is the packaging is a longer tube so you have to reach a bit to push from the bottom to get all the fuel.
The last 8 miles, I was around more of the tail pack of the 25K racers and some 100K runners. We shared encouragement as the rain eased and I crested into the rarely traveled above 20 miles of a run. I’ve seen both sides of this zone: the energized surging version and the desperate struggle bus. I was grateful to be in the former and spaced out my remaining fuel to keep myself from bonking. I kept the pace steady, using the building adrenaline to combat the growing fatigue to get through the finish in third place in 3:53:38. Not considering myself much of a trail runner, I was elated to finish my longest run to date in both time and distance.
Race Swag
Post-Race
The finish line grew more animated as runners finished and the band got started. I won my age group scoring a sweet Pinelands steel tumbler and Lamey-Wellehan gift certificate, which rounded out the impressive swag of buff, wool socks, and hefty medal. One of the highlights was visiting the Pineland Farms Market, which had specialty cheeses and preserves as well as a giant cafe and bakery. My favorite pickup was the garlic-dill cheese curds. I chilled out to some music from the band and let the morning sink in.
I highly recommend the Trail Festival at Pineland Farms for anyone looking for a long run/supreme hike on Memorial Day weekend. Three older gentlemen just walked the whole race, engaged in conversation. The atmosphere is super chill and the farm and volunteers do a phenomenal job supporting the runners. And for under $100 for the 50K, it’s one of the best race values you can find. Here’s to a summer of adventures!
—Sapan
The Aonijie vest I used for the race
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Since childhood, the Boston Marathon has been on my radar. Growing up in Massachusetts, I loved turning on the TV to catch parts of the race as I enjoyed the day off. In high school, I volunteered as part of the spotters network. Groups of four or five of us would stand at an assigned mile marker and let the TV crews know when the lead men and women would pass as well as the Hoyts. Dick and Rick Hoyt were the father/son duo who completed the marathon each year with Dick pushing his son Rick, who had cerebral palsy, in a wheelchair. Their Team Hoyt foundation is a strong presence in the marathon today.
This year, I was fortunate enough to qualify for Boston, making it my first major marathon and the largest race I’ve ever done. The infrastructure, amazing crowds, and endless volunteers speak to the prestige and magnitude of the Boston Marathon.
The festivities started on Saturday before the Monday race, with a trip to the marathon expo and visits to the running pop-up stores along Newbury Street. There was tons of energy from the jump with a large crowd buying everything in sight at the Adidas store in the expo to a live DJ playing in the Nike store.
On Sunday, the night before the race, we were able to spend some time around Hopkinton, seeing the Start Line and the massive signs of support from all the businesses in the town center.
The corral setup is very efficient. Bus drop off to corral line up was about a block (I would skip athletes village which is about half a mile away; there’s plenty of water and bathrooms at the start).
Start line at night
There’s a crowd presence almost the entire way. The good weather yielded a large turnout this year that swelled in each town center along the course. One of the cooler things I witnessed was a runner in front of me pumping his arms for cheers and the crowd roaring in front of him. The Wellesley Scream Tunnel was another highlight, pretty much a wall of sound pushing you forward as college students five to six deep pressed against the barricades.
My race strategy was fairly basic—my goal was to run 6:15s to the Newton Hills, taking a gel every 4 miles. I would get to the hills feeling solid, fight through them, then recover and regain pace over the last 5 miles.
The first 13 miles went pretty smoothly (helps that it’s almost all downhill to this point). I was 90sec faster than goal, but I felt very smooth and well fueled, taking Gatorade every mile or so. I must have heard :Yeah Maine!" and "Go Central Maine" at least 30 times from the crowd.
From miles 13 to 16, I noticed the fatigue building. I adjusted the plan to go through the Newton Hills at 6:20-6:30 pace and conserve energy for the final 5. There are four hills in total culminating in Heartbreak Hill at 20.5. I didn’t really notice the first hill. Hills 2 and 3 were a bit of a grind, and Heartbreak felt like an impressive climb. There was a big banner hanging over Heartbreak celebrating you getting to this point and ushering you to the finish.
The hills were where I started cramping in the feet and hamstrings. I stopped at the top of Heartbreak after feeling a lightning bolt shoot down my legs. Temperatures were increasing and honestly I thought the race was lost at that point. All the training leading up to this was probably the difference in my legs being able to fight the cramps and continue at a sub-7 pace for the final 5 miles (that and the seven gels and half gallon of Gatorade I drank on course).
Those final 5 miles, I was toeing the line between pushing while avoiding a full lockup of the legs. This section brought the famed Citgo sign and the crowds of Boston College at Coolidge Corner. I took down two gels in this section alone plus two to three Gatorade cups. Making those final turns on Hereford and Boylston makes you feel on hallowed ground. They erect a huge viewing booth across the finish line for race VIPs/media and you can almost see the people starring down at you as you push to the finish.
The post race is challenging. You have so many people coming in and there’s a lot of hustle and bustle. I was lucky to find Shannon quickly to get to the car so I could get home to recover. I was ecstatic to finish in 2:46:45, a 7 minute PR for me. The atmosphere makes me understand why people work so hard to come back to Boston year after year. I’ll be aiming to return in 2026 and bask in that energy for another ride. I hope to see you there.
Sapan and Shannon at the finish line the day before
Fellow Strider Ron Peck stretching out at the bus stop to take him to the start for his 10th Boston