Guest post and photos by Rebecca Perrotto

A little background about me.  I’m a wife and mom to two wonderful girls, Olivia is 13 and Abigail is 9.  I started running after Abby was born, so my girls have grown up with running in their lives. And have since become the best trail race volunteers!  I started out with a 5k, then right to a half marathon.  Did a bunch of those and that lead to a few marathons and like all of you other crazy people, ultras!  My first ultra was the Finger Lakes 50k in 2019.  I’m not a competitive person at all.  My one and only goal of every race I sign up for is to finish and hopefully not completely trash my body!  2020 threw us all a curve ball with covid.  And it was the year I became the strongest.  How thankful were we that we had running to escape to!!  I finished the Black Forest Ultra 100k that October.  One of hardest things I had ever done.  I went to some deep places to get that race finished and seeing my girls at that finish line was one of my proudest accomplishments.  March 2021 would end up being the worse month of our lives.  Our daughter, Olivia, who was 10 at the time, was diagnosed with a very rare cancer surrounding her carotid artery.  Maybe someday I will take the time to write up how training for ultras prepares us mentally to face life’s challenges. Her fight was a very hard year, but I can happily say she is in remission!  Obviously, any type of real training for me has never been the same.  But mentally, I think we are all so much stronger and capable than we give ourselves credit for.  Fast forward to a month ago.

I found out about the SRT Run less than a month ago. My good running friend, Ken Kremer (I call him my “trail brother”) threw the idea out there and I immediately told him no way am I in 70-mile shape.  The next day I googled it. Self-supported 70 Miles, just over 10k of elevation gain and 29.5 hours to finish it?  That’s an average of 25 minute miles, this seems doable.  But my gut told me that there must be something that you don’t see in the numbers with a 50% DNF rate.  A few years ago, my husband, Joel, and I were on some of the trails in Monhonk Preserve and Minnewaska for a trail running camp.  I knew what some of it looked like but still thought we could get it done in 20-24 hours.  It’s been a long time since I saw a race that intrigued me. This seemed like the kind of adventure I was seeking!  This would be my longest distance, my first self-supported race, and the longest time on my feet and awake.  What could go wrong?  Two weeks out from the race, we registered for it.

Starting Line, Friday 9/8 High Point Monument, New Jersey

There is a severe thunderstorm warning to shelter in place. The sky is black, it is thundering, lightning and pouring. The Monument is barley visible in the storm. Everyone is sitting in their cars hoping the torrential downpour will end in time for the 6:30 pm start.  We called Ed to have our traditional pre-race prayer.  Thank you, Ed, for that! The rain lets up just enough to run to the bathroom, get our bib from the van and gather in the tree line.  The race typically starts at the monument but because of the lightning, they thought it was safer in the trees.  Fourteen of us lined up and started the adventure at 6:27pm, I was the only female. (Three more runners chose the late start at 7:30pm.) We did sign up for an adventure after all, might as well go for it!

We all started out together and just chatted and followed each other for company.  It was going to be a long night and staying together to help with navigation was going to help all of us. At one point, probably mile 10ish there were 7 of us together and I said, this is 50% of the group together!  We slowly dispersed after that. We hit Check Point 1, mile 17ish in 4.5 hours.  11 pm Friday night.

After leaving checkpoint 1 we headed into Gobbler’s Knob State Forest.  Looking at the map we were supposed to have a water source.  We passed it and there was nothing, completely dry.  We were getting dangerously low on water and came across some trail magic at midnight!!  A trash bag a couple gallons of water were stashed in the woods right on the trail.  Thank you to our generous trail angel, you saved us exactly when we needed it!!! Around 2am on the rail trail section we came into a clearing and stopped to double check where the course went.  Off to our left we saw two lights.  Couldn’t quite make out what they were.  We noticed the lights started coming toward us and we looked at each other and said let’s get out of here.  We headed straight on the trail and kept looking back.  We thought we were good until I started to see the lights again and sure enough, they turned down the trail behind us.  We picked it up and I asked Ken if we should turn off our lights and hide in the bushes. Luckily, we outran whatever or whoever was following us. We hit the town of Wurtsboro just before 2am.  We sat down in a bank parking lot for a quick pack check and to put new batteries in our headlamps.  Not long after that we hit Check Point 2, Mile 27 in 8 hours. 2:30am Saturday Morning.

We were now heading into Wurtsboro Ridge State Forest.  We got to the top of the first climb and saw a headlamp to our right and heard someone yelling for us.  “Stay there so I can make my way toward you, I’ve been lost on a parallel trail for over 2.5 hours.”  We ended up meeting and rescuing Mitch.  Glad we found him, he kept us company off and on for the rest of the run.  This 10-mile section was brutal!  We climbed and descended boulders and smooth cliffs for hours.  Trying to navigate in the dark and dense fog was so hard.  It took us so much longer than we anticipated.  Around Mile 32 we found another lost runner at the fire tower.  This was a tricky intersection and the Avenza map had an icon right on top of the trail intersection so we had no idea where to go.  Thankfully I had service and got back on the trail with Strava.  The lost runner was sure we were wrong and refused to follow us.  So we left him.  Later on Mitch caught up with us and he said he tried to redirect him too.  Hopefully he made his way off the trail.  We hit mile 35 and the sunrise at the top of the last climb.  It was spectacular to have daylight, and we hoped that we could start making up time that we lost in the dark.  Little did we know how much harder the trails would get….

We hit Check Point 3, Mile 40 at 7:30 am, Saturday Morning. 13 hours from the start of the race.

I spent all night thinking about the climb up to Sam’s Point.  This was the make or break climb, the hardest one of the race.  Over 2,000 feet, 3 miles long and 40 miles in. Climbing up I told Ken, I’m not doing this freaking climb for nothing, we are going to finish this. I wanted to hit the Visitor Center by the time the 30-milers started.  We literally made it ten seconds before they started!  I felt a stick and some stuff in my right shoe bothering me up the climb, so I took some time at the top to change socks and clean out my shoes.  Later on, I realized it was not a stick, but the start of the first blister I would have to live with for the next 30+ miles.  Ken, Mitch and I headed up to the top of Sam’s Point and the sun and heat really started to hit me.  We were in full sun for at least 5 miles.  I was getting depleted quickly.  The next 10 miles almost broke me.  We climbed boulders, descended boulders, ran flat slippery rock on the ridges, climbed boulders, descended boulders.  I told Ken I can’t possibly do 20 more miles of this.  It takes a lot to break me and I probably cried off and on for the next two hours.  By far the lowest point I ever hit during a race. It was so hard, but I kept moving forward. As we keep missing trail turns here and there the mileage we have keeps getting further and further from the race distance.  I had over 55 miles by the time we hit the next check point. This starts to mess with your head when you are desperately trying to find the check point.  It only got harder after this…..

Mile 54 we hit Check Point 4, 20 hours and 20 minutes from the start.

2:50pm Saturday Afternoon. I must have looked wrecked coming into this check point.  The one volunteer took my number and said oh my goodness, you are a 70 Miler!  Have a seat and sit down for a minute.  I said no I can’t do that; I have to keep moving.  She said then take my water, I just made it.  She gave me an ice-cold bottle of water with Nuun in it and took my trash.  The Nuun tasted like crap, but it saved me later on!

The check points got a lot closer together after this point and all we had to do was keep moving.  Ken, Mitch and I all headed up the trail.  It was a slow gradual climb, but they were so much faster than me. I blame it on my short legs!! Ken would head up ahead to find water to filter and I would catch up to him.  We did this off and on the whole time.  Because I was naturally slower than him, it saved us time.  I gave him my filter and he would fill it up for me and load me up when I got there.  (Remember that he has my water filter for later on.) My back was hurting so bad for hours from the weight of my pack.  I started to get smarter and wouldn’t fill up my water bladder until I got to the top of the climb. We hit the lost city and Ken and I just looked at each other.  The trail literally leads you into a cave and back out again.  I got out my phone flashlight and we had to crouch down to get through it.  There is no crouching or squatting that is even remotely possible 57 miles in. I wish we would have taken pictures here.  We finished the climb up to the top and Ken and Mitch pulled farther away from me here on the descent.  I ended up doing the rest of this section alone.

Mile 58…I was not prepared for the climb up High Peter’s Kill Trail.  I hit my lowest point.  It took all I had to climb 50 feet and sit down.  I was closing my eyes and couldn’t stay awake.  I would lean on my poles close my eyes for 15 seconds and get up and move another 50 feet.

Checkpoint 5, Mile 59, 4:45pm on Saturday

Over 22 hours moving so far. The RD was here and saw me come in.  I was traumatized by that last climb and was out of it.  He asked me if I wanted to quit.  I said no way, I refused to give up.    I asked him how many miles to the next check point and what the terrain was like.  He said I was done with the worse of it.  I said I can’t do math but if I can hold 30-minute miles, can I still hit the cutoff for the final check point? and he said yes.  So, I headed out.  Ken was ahead of me.

Remember that Ken has my water filter?  I tried to call him, but we kept missing each other because I would have service and he wouldn’t.  I found a 30-miler sitting half way up the climb and asked how long ago the guys went through.  I figured Ken and Mitch were about 20 minutes ahead of me.  I got to the top of the climb and made a right-hand turn to stay on Old Minnewaska Trail.  Since it was dark blue blazes.  Made another climb and came out to a road.  Opened my map and realized I was off course.  I was making my way back, and the 30-miler guy was coming toward me.  I stopped him and told him we were off trail.  He made the same mistake I did.  I had to climb back up and over to get back to the Undivided Lot trail which had the same EXACT blue blazes.  WHY would you have two trails with the same color blazes??  I was so pissed.  Mistakes like this are horrible when you are running on empty.  Just trying to survive and your mind is going, and navigation gets even more difficult.  The mosquitos were awful in this area. I think I killed 50 of them biting me.  My arms are so welted from all the bites.  Just after I got back on the correct trail Ken’s call finally came through to me.  I said I don’t have any water and you have my filter.  Can you leave it at the next stream you come to and I’ll get it?  He felt awful and filled it up and ran a mile back up the trail to bring me water. After that we agreed that we needed to stay together.  Our minds were only half working…we needed to stay together now.

We hit Check Point 6, Mile 64 at 7:30pm

I now had 67 miles.  Small navigation errors start to add up.  We sat down here and had to do a safety check for our phone batteries and head lamps to prove we had the required equipment to go forward.  We were released to head to our final destination…the finish line!

The final 6 miles.  Leaving check point 6 we had a hard time figuring out the trail navigation.  This mile took us over 40 minutes because we kept looking for the trail turns and intersections.  Every time we stopped to check the map I had to sit down.  My body was just done.  I was so exhausted I couldn’t stand in one place.  I had to sit down or keep walking.  My headlamp kept getting dimmer and I told Ken I needed to change the batteries because I couldn’t see.  He was getting frustrated with me and the map app. I never hear Ken swear, but he did his fair share of it that last 6 miles.  We were doing whatever we could to just get this done.  We kept calculating how long we had to make the final finish line cutoff.  Ken was getting nervous. I kept telling him we have 30-minute miles, and we can walk 25-26 minutes per mile.  Then we started to hit more boulders to climb.  I started to feel the same way about finishing.  What if we made it this far and we end up not finishing by cutoff?  We kept looking at the map trying to estimate how many miles we had left.  The finish line just seemed so far away.  Every time we went downhill, I would say, this better be it.  But nope, we just kept going back up and down.  Then out of nowhere we hit the rail trail!  I said Ken, this is it!!  We are on the rail trail.  We just have the bridge and the finish.  I don’t think he believed me. He said who is going to take the DFL?  (dead fu*king last) I said I will!!  I’m the only female with the guts to start, I have no problem being the last 70 miler to finish.  I’ll take that with honor!!  After we crossed the bridge, he said if we push we can hit sub 28 hours.  Always something to push for at the last second!  He was just a few yards ahead of me and yelled “here it is!”  I looked off to my left and sure enough, there it was, the finish line!!!

27:55:15 Hours

75.19 Miles

10,444 feet of gain

The hardest physical thing I have ever done.