5 minute read

After seven years, I returned to The JIM for my fourth start, aiming for my third finish because I WANT THE BOOTY JORTS!

The JIM

In western Virginia, The JIM is notorious. It started as a joke. Jarmans Gap Road is a 5.9 mile out-and-back with 1500’sh feet of gain going out, and the reverse going down. Broken asphalt. Gravel. No views. Hot and humid in the summer. Cold and icy in the winter.

Two locals where coming off a triple and joked how much it sucks. One suggested five laps to make it a “marathon”.

The other added, “and do it in August, to up the suck.”

“Shit, man, start at noon.”

And thus The JIM. Five laps of one awful road. 7500 feet of gain and descent. Dirt, dogs, thunderstorms. (Did I mention the pitbulls?). Starting at noon, on the first Saturday in August. Oh, and this is in Virginia.

Goals

The plan was simple. Training run.

A) Don’t pound the downs. It’s a Training Run. B) Take the ups easy. C) No, seriously, get the miles in, test drive shit, and don’t break yourself. Because??? It’s a Train. Ning. Run. D) Finish

A, B, & C goals went well. Spoiler Alert: Goal D, a finish, did not. 😆

The day started off a little in the hole. A bit of work set me behind getting out the door. GPS said I’d have ten minutes to catch the last shuttle. But GPS didn’t account for Route 29’s hellacious traffic, and I arrived at Greenwood with two minutes to spare before the last shuttle—a shuttle that never showed up. Because what’s a sucktastic race without a little sand thrown in the gears?

Thankfully, another runner showed up late and offered a ride, sparing me the mile walk with a cooler. The lack of a shuttle caused the first mistake—not lubing up. I realized this while walking around and catching up with people.

Equipment? A pair of shorts, Injinji wool socks, a pair of used Altra Timp 3s, and a big floppy hat. Shirt? Ha. The JIM starts at noon in August. A shirt’s just something to take off after the first lap.

Everyone’s here for the carnage, so I’ll skip over the first lap. The second went pretty well. Lots of speed hiking the outbound, taking it easy on the down.

Make or Break Loop

The third is usually the make or break lap, and that’s where my body started leaning towards “break.” The last few weeks, I’ve been implementing some corrective exercises from “Running Rewired.” It’s worked out some issues with my left foot and ankle, loosening it up, restoring mobility. But as it’s started moving better, I’ve learned some ankle muscles weren’t getting worked for the last few years. They’ve gone weak.

On the third decent, that weak ankle started to be like “um, hey, yeah, you oughtta know I’m not in to this.” Not much, barely a niggle, but def a “well, shit, finishing’s probably not gonna happen.” I’d already seen a few runners leaning, limping, experiencing weird gaits. I love The JIM, and have broken myself for it before, but today was about training.

Despite the niggle, when I came into the bottom aid station, I was in a good mood and not hurting much. I sipped some Dr. Pepper, drank some water, ate a few chips, refilled my handheld with calories, and went back out.

And then my ass and hamstrings started hurting. They weren’t toast, but climbing the fourth lap just suuuccccckkkkeed. I sat down a little over a mile in, where some locals had placed chairs, and contemplated my life choices. Tucking tail now would still give me a 20’sh mile day. Not bad for a training run.

But then Amanda showed up and talked to me just long enough for Matt Smythe to come up and say “Josh! You’re coming with me!” Fuuuccckkk. He wanted to talk music, small town politics, food industry. And the death march began.

Good company. Good conversation, but the next mile was a slog of climbing. The effort was a on the bad side of too hard. My stomach soured. Matt kept going as I slowed. By the the powerlines, he’d left me. My stomach told me what was coming. Taking the bend into the “No Walk” section, I bent over the ditch. Amanda excused herself because “you don’t have any hair to hold back.” The heaving came in waves. A handful of chips, some replacement drink. Not much in there to come up, but it valiantly tried.

Nothing much to report between loosing my lunch, reaching the top, and trudging down the bottom. The ankle definitely quit somewhere around mile 21. It’d do a little light jogging, but it was mostly walking.

Came in to the bottom aid station 2 minutes before last lap cut-off. James tried to talk me into starting. Any other year, I’d have wanted to. But. Training run. No breaking myself. In hind sight, a last lap starting at 6:58 would’ve easily had me walking in the dark—no headlamp and with only my prescription sunglasses. I’d have walked off the edge of the middle section, tumbled to my death, and brought national attention to an idiotic event. But, my suffering would’ve ended. And maybe Danton & Jimmie would name an award after me.

Highlights:

  • Chatting with Jimmie on his RD lap. And watching in awe as he left me in the dust.
  • Staying in a good mood while watching the sufferfest.
  • Being at the bottom AS while Horton still had peach ice cream
  • Drinking all the calories.
  • On the drive home, eating a Big Mac followed by a chicken sandwich.

Conclusion:

As a training run, it was the kinda ass-kicking you need now and then. The nutrition plan, about 300 cal/hour, kept me in good spirits. Think it aided in a relatively fast recovery. Def need to work on hill climbing, get my speed back up, get my weight down. The training schedule has a few other big runs before MMTR, and I’m hoping the feeling of failure lasts just long enough to push those.