Thousands of people ski down black diamonds every year. But very few people get to say they ran UP one. I am one of those few.
The Race Up The Face is by far the most difficult 400-meter (.25 mile) race in Maryland. Located in Garrett County at Wisp Resort, runners run up one of Wisp’s signature runs: The Face. 400 meters is negligible to even a beginner runner, but here’s the catch: The race rises 600 feet (60 stories!) in those 400 meters. It wouldn’t be accurate to call it a run: halfway up, the pitch becomes so steep that all you can do is crawl. The race is put on by the Taste of Garrett Festival and takes place in May. Here’s my experience not just racing, but dominating the Face.
First, some context. I am an advanced runner. As a high school varsity cross country and track runner, I’ve been running for years. My PR in the 5k is 17:25 and my fastest mile is 5:01, so it’s not like I was coming into this unprepared. I knew it would be unlike anything I’d ever run, but I didn’t know it’d be the hardest thing I’ve run yet.
Arriving in Deep Creek Lake early in the morning to fish Carmel Cove, I meditated and prepared for races like I always do when it started to rain. And not just rain, pour. A spring storm. Unfortunately I didn’t catch any fish, but that wasn’t the point. I showed up at Wisp and about 15 other runners were already there. The first thing I did was try and tell who’s fast; a runner my age in a yellow Northern Garrett XC tank top was my first candidate. I figured “he trains around here, he knows how to run these mountains.” I went in the locker room and changed into my compression tank top, short shorts, and headband, my signature look. My tight outfit stood out among the now 30 runners dressed in hoodies and pants (it was still cold). I also stood out because I was the only one warming up.
An older man with two walking sticks must’ve been able to tell I wasn’t from around those parts because he asked where I was from. He told me who last year’s winner was: An Iron Man Challenge Champion who was “off warming up on his own.” I looked over at the bunny slope and saw a man dressed in black spandex like me not just running, but SPRINTING up and down Sunset Boulevard. He was going to be my main competition.
The 30 of us walked up to the bottom of the Face. I introduced myself to black spandex man, telling him I’d never run this race before, and asking him the same. He confidently said “I have experience.” Asking for tips I knew I didn’t need (had to see what this guy was all about), he responded “go out fast, build the lead.” He was trying to throw me off! That’s exactly what not to do, you’ll tire faster. Man, He was serious.
As if climbing the mountain wasn’t hard enough, the rain left it a muddy mess. Thank God I had my running spikes to dig into the mud, I don’t know everyone else did it. After multiple warnings that we could die and that we’d be refunded if we quit right there, the gun went off and I started running. The adrenaline was pumping! I ran and ran until I reached halfway up the mountain, looked back, and saw I had a huge lead! Everyone was already walking, I felt fine. Or so I thought. 2/3 of the way up, the pitch increased to where I could only scramble. It was like I hit a wall of pain never felt before. My calves felt as if they weren’t there. My head was spinning and there were stars in my eyes. You know that feeling when you do activities outside in the cold and your lungs burn? My lungs were like that feeling times 10. Seeing the ski patrol at the top, I knew I just had to reach them and I’d be fine; there’d be someone to save me. But with the massive lead behind me, I was confident I had already won.
Then I looked back, and who else was there other than black spandex man! The look in his eyes was one of the most intense I’d ever seen. He was RUNNING up the steepest part, the part that had just killed me! All of a sudden, I had a surge of energy and my pain disappeared. I had not gone through this much suffering to come in second. I found the energy to fly past the ski patrol lining the slope to catch fallen runners, literally lunging for the finish line.
I collapsed in front of the trophy tent, and it was obvious no one had ever went as hard as me. The trophy man tried to offer me the medal, saw I was in no shape to respond to anything, and put it around my neck for me. Not able to feel my legs, I collapsed, a bad decision after a race because I threw up everything I had. Black spandex man came in 2nd, reluctantly took his metal, saw me puking and passive aggressively asked “was it worth it?” Yes, yes it was. Yellow tank top man came in 3rd, saying he showed up thinking he had a guaranteed win, but that if he could lose to anyone, he wanted it to be me. I collected my larger trophy that says “King of the Hill,” proud that I had set an unofficial course record by over a minute. Black spandex man set the course record the previous year, and broke it again this year, but I was too fast for him. Now, one course I ran for XC started at the bottom of a hill and cork screwed around the hill to the top. And it was 100 degrees outside. This was harder than any of the races I’ve ever done, and it will probably remain that way for some time. But still, I plan on returning to Garrett County next spring to defend my title. I assume black spandex man will spend the next year training to beat me, it’s just how runners are. So I’ll just have to train even harder.
I started to walk down Boulder Run with the rest of the runners, but staggered off to the side unable to walk, starting to puke again. All the runners went down without me. Ironically, I was the first one up the mountain, and the last one down.
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