Race Report | Pinhoti In Review

“I went further than I ever thought possible, I felt better than I ever thought possible, and I completely surprised myself. I had had the experience of a lifetime.”

This is a novel, so if you’re in a hurry, here’s the quick and dirty version - I ran, I didn’t sleep, I cried (a lot), I laughed (a lot), I cried some more, I ate every Burger King Impossible Whopper in North Georgia and at the end of 4.5 days I did not finish my Pinhoti FKT attempt.

Before diving into the nitty gritty details of what trying to run 350 miles in 4.5 days looks like, let’s go back to the beginning of how this whole thing got started.

Remember that wonderful year of 2019? Well, I finally got into the Leadville 100, once of the most anticipated and biggest races of my career. I was super excited and then… life happened. There were lots of random distractions, my training lagged, but I was hanging my hat on my 2018 race record that included the completion of the Pinhoti Slam among some other races. Regardless, I took on the challenge of one of the world’s toughest 100 milers and then 8 hrs into a 20 mile up and down of Hope Pass I was broken. I was mentally crushed, chasing cutoffs (something I don’t do) and completely defeated. I ended up DNF’ing around mile 65 - devastated.

I dubbed 2020, my redemption year. I was going back to Leadville, I signed up for Hellbender. I was excited and motivated to train hard and race harder. It wasn’t until 2020 showed her true colors, with Covid cancelling everything that I was again - devastated.

Then one night around a backyard bonfire, sitting with Tim and my twin sister Brooke, I somehow came up with the idea of running my beloved Pinhoti trail, all 350 miles of it. The idea seemed perfect, FKT’s were really starting to take off and l just dove in and started working. 

This is super long so I’ll spare you the training updates and refer to other blog posts - I got a coach, I ran hundreds of miles, it was hot as hell, I nailed down my nutrition and I trained harder than I ever have. I even convinced Tim to run his first ultra at the Georgia Jewel. :)

Fast forward to Saturday, October 17. We were packed up, sitting in an RV, and heading to the southern terminus of the Pinhoti in Coosa County, Alabama. I couldn’t believe the day was here. I was excited and terrified. Nerves were calmed a bit with one of my pacers and kick-ass runner and human, Fawn. She drove all the way from southern Louisiana and beat us there! She scoped out a perfect camp spot a few hundred yards from the start. We had a lovely evening around the fire, enjoying the company and the stars. It was perfect. 

It was a restless night of sleep filled with a close encounter of “something” that woke up camp and the arrival of my brother Taylor, who came strait from work, pulling in around 2:30am. Not the peaceful night I was planning but, the sun rose and before I knew it, I was starting this epic trek across two states. I wanted to start solo to be able to clear my mind and find my rhythm. I planned to pick Fawn up as my first pacer at mile 27. 

And then… I got lost within the first mile. Yup, not even 12 minutes into this thing and I missed a turn and ended up reaching the tower on top of Flagg Mountain from the wrong direction. I had to turn around and backtrack until I found my error. I finally found it and headed back up the mountain, this time from the correct direction. On top of that, I realized that I had set up my watch face incorrectly the night before, and I couldn’t see my total distance, only my lap distance, so I was flying blind, but I couldn’t pause my watch and fix it once I started my trip. I knew it was way too early to let those things get me down, so I just pushed on and rolled with it. Looking back, this was a sign of things to come…

After getting on track, those first miles clicked off super easy. I was so excited to be running and extremely pumped to have my people out there with me. The weather was perfect (which held true throughout the whole adventure) and I saw my crew twice in the first 10 miles. I was just having fun, running trails. 

The rest of the day I switched between Fawn and another rock-star pacer, Staci. They were welcomed company and so encouraging and positive, as well as experienced trail runners and pacers. They seemed to read my mind and know just what I needed and how much I wanted to talk, or was able to talk. We had fun. I really enjoyed both of them. After talking with Tim and my crew, turns out they loved having them around in camp too!

More miles into day one and again we definitely got lost, which would prove to be a recurring theme throughout my FKT attempt. Luckily, they were able to help navigate us back to the course and keep my spirits up despite the extra time and mileage. I do want to note, the Guthook app and downloaded Pinhoti Trail map on my phone, literally saved my life several times! If you’re heading out on a trip like this, I highly recommend it!

The first day ended at 74 miles around 4 am. I was pretty exhausted and ready for a little nap. I crawled into the camper and changed into some sleep clothes. I ate a quesadilla, looking like a zombie from the Walking Dead, before crashing for about 3 hours. Day one was complete, relatively uneventfully. 

Day two, cue the tears. Waking up after a very short nap (which was the longest I would take), was INCREDIBLY tough. This is where the emotions started for me, and never let up. I cried and wept as I got dressed and filled my pack for the day ahead. I was mentally all in and ready to get going, but I think the reality was setting in for me about just how long this trail was, and just how much further I still had to go. There’s something uneasy about running 74 miles only to realize I still had 276 to go…

Luckily, Staci planned to start the day with me, and I absolutely needed the company to get going. I cried the first mile or two as she so sweetly talked me through it. I finally got my life together, and we ran some good miles. I was moving and feeling good.

We started to get in to some gnarly rocky sections as we got closer to Mt Cheaha. We were on what seemed to be never ending boulder fields with zero trail markers. I couldn’t believe how poorly marked the trail was. We wandered around looking for the trail, only to find we were wrong so many times. Crossing back and forth over the same spots just desperate to see one blaze or one turkey foot. I was getting pretty annoyed. We finally found the path (thanks to the Guthook app) and we made it to the next aid station, finally. 

This was the day I discovered pizzadillas. 

My brother taylor is an expert camping foodie, and chef to the ultra running stars. He created this perfect combination of pizza and quesadilla with mozzarella, pizza sauce, and pepperoni, all folded in a warm tortilla. The “pizzadilla” lifted my spirits and helped me forget all the frustration from the hours before. It was confirmed my claims that I’m not really vegan, just most of the time. ;)

After some more miles and more pizzadillas, Fawn and I headed out on the next section, during which I would cross the 100 mile mark. We came across some sticks laid out in “100” and then out of nowhere, we heard a woman ask if I was Lauren. I was so confused. Apparently two through hikers had talked to Taylor, and they were having their lunch at the creek crossing waiting for us to arrive at the 100 mile mark to offer congratulations. It was really sweet! They were so excited and encouraging, although it did come with some mixed emotions. I thought it would feel so good to cross that 100 mile milestone, but it did not feel good. I felt like I had been out there for so long, and was so tired, and I still had 250 miles to go. The numbers were overwhelming. I just needed to keep going and try to push them out of my head, keeping those lovely ladies encouraging me in there instead. 

We kept pushing. Between the rocks and the lack of trail markings, it was slow progress for day 2 and the next wave of pacers/crew was coming on to help as I said bye to Fawn, because she had to go back to life. It was tough to see her go because she had been such a big help. 

That evening, my friend Kendall joined for some night miles. It was fun to catch up with her for a bit, even though we both thought we might be murdered haha-kidding, but not really. We came across a shelter at a creek crossing. Neither of us thought there was anyone in it as we discussed crossing options, when all of a sudden, we heard the creepiest “heyyyy” from behind. I screamed, we ran straight through the water, Kendall fell in the middle of the creek. It was a lot. We got to the other side and just started booking it to get out of there. Then maybe 10 minutes later, as our heart rates were just starting to come down, we were on a little ridge line, and there were two headlamps down below on our left. A voice yelled up at us to “get off my lawn!” and I yelled back with some attitude, “We’re not on your lawn!” Not sure what the appropriate response is in that moment. Then the voice yelled, “I love you.” We couldn’t get out of there fast enough. It was creepy as shit.

We finally made it to the next aid spot, where I was planning to take a little nap. I was so relieved. Then my crew informed me that it was a 0.7 mile hike straight up off the trail to where to cars were. The roads were undriveable, so it was a hike up to where I could nap. It was all I could handle at that point and I lost it. Tears were flowing, I was sobbing. It was ugly. We hiked to the top and finally made it to the rv after what seemed like 14 years, and I took an hour nap. 

After a little nap, Staci started with me in the dark again. And again I was crying. She’s a real trooper. We had to go the 0.7 miles back to the trail before starting real trail miles. We ran well once I was warmed up, and we had a good time, once I got my tears under control. We made good time to the first aid spot of the day where she too had to go back to real life. We all had a hard time seeing them (Staci and Fawn) go because of all the help they provided for both pacing and crewing. 

I spent the rest if the day alone on the trails. It was some nice time to get my thoughts together and just crank out some miles. There was some SKETCHY stuff I went through - Gnarly single track ledges on the tops of ridges, extremely overgrown trails full of briars, and all the rocks. I got lost a bunch of times, and came in to one of the aid stops just screaming at the trail. “You have a can of paint up there already, just paint a couple trees!”. I was angry. At no one really, just the lack of markers and running extra miles. 350 is enough, I didn’t need to run more. 

I got in to mile 160, where Brooke and Tim were waiting for me, without the cars. Turns out, they had to hike 2 miles in with all of my food and hydration and “might need” things from my kit. I was so excited to see them and just talk to real people for a bit. I had been alone for hours, and there were zero hikers on the trail. I think this crew experience warrants it’s own blog post, but I’ll let Tim and Brooke tell that story… 

Seeing Tim was hard, I wanted to stay and hang out with him. I really missed him and a half mile walk down this trail to get me back on track was just what I needed, but I didn’t want to leave him. I couldn’t see the trail through all my tears. It was really hard to say bye. Luckily, I got my life together a little ways down the trail, and tried to make up some miles from the slow day before. I got lost (shocker) as the trail took a sharp turn without any markers, yet again. I tried to control my anger and just focused on the task at hand.  I finally arrived at the next aid. 

Well, my spirits were lifted IMMEDIATELY! Waiting at the next aid spot with my crew was Holly and Rebecca. I felt an immense weight lifted right away and I could feel the life coming back. If you don’t know these two, you should! They were a lively breath of fresh air and you could tell they were just so happy to be there. Their energy was infectious and exactly what I needed after spending all day alone in the woods.

My crew got me all put together and fed and filled my pack and I left with Rebecca for the next section. It was fun to catch up with my buddy and to have someone to take my mind off all my negative thoughts. Everything on my body hurt (it had been hurting for a while) but its so much easier to push that aside when you have someone with you. She distracted me with her story of waiting at the wrong trailhead and barely making it to the aid spot in time. We chatted about life and caught up on all the things. I was in a much better mental place. 

Rebecca and I had some fun miles together before the next aid, where I picked up Holly. Holly was a life saver- she came in at the last minute, in the middle of a workweek, with two young kiddos at home, to run overnight with me before going back to work and to picture day at school! She’s a true bad ass and just a lovely human! Special shout out and high-five to her husband Harvey for making it work. 

Holly didn’t know what she signed up for and neither did I. The next section was one of the toughest of the whole trip. We found ourselves on top of some mountain, in the dark, surrounded by boulder fields, and you guessed it - no trail markers in site. It took FOREVER to navigate just a couple miles and find our way. During which we saw a rattlesnake and a copperhead. There were no trail markers, but plenty of hand painted signs that read “Dead End” and “God’s Path.” It was frustrating, creepy and also super wrong. There was plenty more mountain to run.  

We finally found some smoother, runnable trails when we saw a huge confederate flag. I think we both panicked that we’d be met by another hillbilly and his shotgun, but quickly realized it was actually the marker for where the trail crossed over from Alabama to Georgia! That was a big relief and a happy milestone.

As we ran a good pace towards the next aid point, we found ourselves, wait for it… lost yet again. This time it was SUPER CREEPY. We found ourselves wandering around this small lake thing with multiple side trails in all directions, but zero Pinhoti markers. We tried calling the crew, my coach was watching us on my Garmin Inreach trying to help locate us and it was some rough scenery. It seemed to be a never-ending dumping ground for some large furniture items, it wasn’t the usual mountain trail that’s for sure. We knew we were super close to the crew, but just couldn’t find the route to get there. We came across an abandoned pair of boots. We commented about the fact that the dead body that belongs to those boots MUST be in one of these ditches. IT had such a creepy vibe.  We were running for our lives it felt like. We finally made it to the dirt road and BOOKED it to our crew. 

After a quick refuel and some lively debate about the correct direction from there, Holly and I just wanted to get the heck out of there and we were on a mission to put down some miles. The next section turned out to be quite lovely, runnable, and so much nicer than the last. We chatted and debriefed about the previous section, dubbing it Murder Mile. For those of you still reading, you can check my Strava for the Murder Mile crown. ;)

The last couple miles were on paved roads as we entered a super cute little mountain town. We ran past lots of cow pastures, and seriously debated jumping the fence to do a little cow-tipping. If I didn’t have 190 miles on my legs, I would’ve been all in. Instead, we opted for some political sign tipping. After seeing probably the 4000th Trump sign since the start, I jumped at the chance to topple the one sign right on our path when Holly suggested it. It felt good. We giggled and laughed our way into our crew spot where Tim, Brooke and Rebecca were waiting for us. 

I was in super high spirits, feeling good and motivated. They informed me that the next 15 miles was all road, and that that meant I would definitely be able to get to 200 miles before the night was over. You could feel how excited everyone was. It was awesome!

After some jokes and some snacks, I was back out there. This time without my pack since crew would just follow along on the road with me, I could get whatever I wanted whenever I needed it and it was a needed and welcomed relief for my neck and back. 

After just a couple miles, the monotony of the road got to me and I was SLEEPY. I decided to hop in the RV for a quick little 30 min nap. It felt good, but way too short. I got back up to finish 200 and while the road was a nice change, it turned to major highway. It got scary in the dark with cars and logging trucks whizzing past. Luckily I had two crew cars sandwiching me the whole way so I felt safe.  

Speaking of keeping us safe, we got stopped briefly by a cop who was wondering what the heck we were doing. I think he (and a few others who stopped me along the way) thought I was being held captive and being forced to run! With a few awkward waves and batting of the eyes, Rebecca and I had them out of our hair and us back on the grind.

Finally, we made it to mile 200! And there was a pull off spot right there where we stopped for a quick 1 hour nap. This milestone felt way better than the 100. With that great milestone, the nap was still not long enough and I woke up just in time to start crying. I was as stiff as a board, but headed back out to more road miles before hitting trail again. 

Rebecca went to to gas station for a fill-up and what I hoped was the greasiest, grossest gas station biscuits. What she came back with, was not that. This was one of the funniest moments of the trip, as she pulled over and presented me with gas station roll ups of questionable descriptions and even more questionable meat products. I think she felt bad for giving them to me, and I wasn’t sure what I was looking at. But I was starving, so I just woofed them down. 

After some more road miles, Rebecca jumped in and ran with me again. She helped me pick up the pace and got me in a better mood. It was a fun morning laying down some strong miles. She even found a random Pinhoti marker just laying on the ground for me to take as a souvenir ;)

We met the crew and my surprise pacer, Ben, was there in the happiest of moods just ready to jump in and run. He was a ball of energy and positivity. We headed out on another runnable stretch, with the morning sun shining down, enjoying the weather and chatting. I had only met Ben one time before during a training run a few months prior. I couldn’t believe he was willing to drive out and spend his day helping out. Not only did Ben bring positivity with him, he also brought 6 Impossible Whoppers!

Pizzadillas? Nah, give me a whopper… or 2!

After a tiny 1.5 mile detour off trail yet again, we were back on course and cruising to the crew. When we arrived, they had made a 221 marker from sticks to memorialize the milestone. We did a quick show change and pack refill before heading back out.

We started with a mile long climb that was hot and exposed. I think we were both relieved to reach some flatter, shaded trail. We passed some backpackers who asked if I was Lauren and as we passed, Ben answered for me. I was in no condition to talk. They said they heard I was out there and were so sweet with their well wishes and cheers. It was definitely a mental boost and we crushed the rest of the miles for that section. There’s something oddly refreshing about total strangers recognizing you and calling your name on trail.

Rolling into the next crew stop, we saw several firetrucks with lights going, and I was so confused. I panicked that someone in the crew was injured, but was quickly reassured that they were out for wilderness rescue training, but heard from my crew what we were doing, and wanted to blast their lights and sirens in support. It was a cool feeling. 

That feel good feeling didn’t last long. This aid station was a bit chaotic and I had a momentary breakdown while refueling for the next section. Plans were changing and being adjusted, but I felt like in a coma. People were talking at and about me, but I couldn’t process what was happening. No sleep and 220+ miles will do that I guess. I was basically an emotional basket case throughout the whole experience, but it caught up to me on this stop.  

I left this aid stop with my friend Trena, who’s super experienced and such a great support. We weren’t a half mile down the trail before we heard Tim yelling from behind. I had left my headlight behind, and the sun was definitely going down during this next 12 mile section. We turned to see Tim SPRINTING up the mountain to bring me my light. I think he had a mini breakdown after realizing I almost set out without a light. Yup, he did.

I told Trena I needed to hike a bit before trying to run, and she was good with that. We reminisced as we made our way through the ‘old’ Georgia Jewel course start. Trena and I ran the race together several years ago, which was actually my first ever 50 miler. It was fun to relive old memories. After some strong hiking, we began to run some of the flats and downhills. Trying to stay on trail, would you believe me if I told you, we got lost, again? 

5ish miles from the next aid we saw a headlight in the woods and heard a familiar voice. Our friend Kat had run from the opposite direction to meet us and run us in to the aid station. At this point, I was in a rough spot and just didn’t have the mental capacity to carry on a conversation. Trena and Kat chatted, and I just tagged along, making it down the trail, and covering miles.  

We narrowly escaped some vicious dogs (like seriously wanted to eat us) and arrived at the next aid station. Here’s the part of the race where I finally lost it. I was just so tired. 4 days into this thing and running on 4 hours of sleep was weighing on me. I sobbed. Ben sweetly tried to get me together. The atmosphere seemed hectic with a lot of people. I just wanted to sleep. So, I asked them to wake me up in 10 min while I took a nap in the chair. 

After another emotional stop, I headed back out for a shorter 6 mile section with James. I never met James before that moment, and I was a crying disaster. I said hi as we headed out, but I was not in a mental place to chit chat. This made getting to know James, tough. Great first impression, huh? Hi, shut up and run mule! I can’t talk. Oops.

We cruised through those miles, and I rolled in to the aid station planning/hoping to take a nap. But the crew had other ideas, and I wasn’t happy about it. They wanted me to get through the next 11-12 mile section before napping. Where I would also see my good friend Whitney, who would get me through to the bitter end. They knew I’d be on ‘home trails’, with my close friend by then, and that we would crank out the miles. But I was not ok with this plan. In fact, Tim had to yell at me a little bit. I left in a real bad mood. James and I headed out in the dark for a very long 12 mile section, heading up John’s mountain around 12:30am on Thursday morning. This was a pivotal point on my run.

During this time, the pain that had started in the front of my left ankle became constant and burning. I couldn’t shake it. Now everything on me hurt at this point, but it all came and went, and responded well to Tylenol or Advil. This pain was different. It didn’t care about any pain reliever. And it just kept getting worse. At some point, James and I crossed a couple large creeks, where I stopped to soak my foot in the icy water for a few minutes, hoping it would help. It didn’t. We kept moving. I began to feel TIRED. This was the first time I actually felt sleepy on the trail, which in retrospect, I find remarkable that it took that long. I told James I was laying down for 5 minutes. I literally laid right there on the trail and he woke me up 5 minutes later. Just that few minutes helped. 

We fast hiked up John’s mountain forever. It seemed like that climb would never end. Poorly marked and super overgrown, we stopped multiple times to make sure we were still on trail. It was slow going, but then, we finally made it to the top! We forged right through the overlook and hoped to make good time of the last 2.5 miles to the next crew stop. We were wrong. :/ 

We fairly quickly realized we weren’t on the trail anymore. But in the dark, on all the rocks we struggled big time to find the trail. We went in circles, out and back, comparing our location to my app, but just couldn’t figure out how to get back on track. Then my headlight died (just to kick me when I was down) but, luckily James had an extra. We tried calling all the crew, but they had no cell service at our the next aid stop, Pocket Rd. We were lost. Desperately lost. And my ankle hurt really, really hurt. 

I finally got Ben on the phone as he was driving home. He said that Whitney had planned to come looking for us if we didn’t show up by 3:30. It was 4:00am, so I knew she was on her way to us and I relaxed a little. James and I backtracked at least a mile back to the top of John’s mountain, woke up some campers, and finally found where we went wrong. We started making our way down the trail, hoping to run in to Whitney at any moment. We took another wrong turn at Keown Falls, backtracked a bit, then decided that I would sit and wait (because of my foot) and James would go ahead and see if he could find her. After several long, tear filled solo moments, I finally heard my sweet friend’s voice. From then I knew I’d be ok, no matter what happened from there. 

I saw Whitney, and I sobbed a bit in her arms while she comforted me. We got up and made our way down the trail to where they parked the car at the trailhead for Pocket Road. They climbed in the car and drove slowly next to me as I hobbled with my stick I found on the trail, the additional mile to the RV. She played music and gave me a beer as I walked. As I got close, I saw Tim running towards us, and I couldn’t hold my tears back any more. He met me and we both cried happy tears to be back and to be safe. We decided to take a break. I would nap for 2 hours and we would get back up and go again. 

I can’t thank James enough for getting me through that stretch. It was the toughest stretch, on tired legs and a tired mind. What a way to make a new friend!

I iced my ankle as I slept. After 2 hours, Tim woke me up. I got up and sobbed some more as we got ready to head out. My ankle was HUGE and it hurt so bad. But every other morning, I started out in pain and stiff, so we decided that I should get moving and see how I warm up. After some math, they determined that even at my new hiking pace, I still had time to beat the FKT. So on we went, hiking polls and all.  

Whitney hiked those 6 miles with me from Pocket Road to Snake Creek Gap. I was so happy to be with my friend on the trail. We caught up, we laughed, we dreamed about future adventures. It was like a regular day on the trail, and it felt like home. It was exactly what I needed.

But by the time we made it Snake Creek, the pain in my left ankle became so severe that I knew that going another 84 miles on it was going to be super questionable. I decided to sit and think. After a lot of thought and consideration about my goals and my motivation for being out there, I decided that I would call it quits there. 265 trail miles (281 miles with all the wrong turns), 39,000+ feet of gain, and over 96 hours awake with just 6 hours of sleep… I was calling it. 

My goal from the get-go was to go after the overall FKT. My motivation was never the female FKT or to simply finish. I came to set a record. After considering a realistic pace with my injury, the FKT was out of the question and the only certainty in moving forward was injury and long term negative effects. 

The reason I came up with the whole plan in the first place was to give myself a significant challenge in lieu of planned races for the year, specifically with Leadville. Did I feel significantly challenged? Oh, hell yeah. I went further than I ever thought possible, I felt better than I ever thought possible, and I completely surprised myself. I had had the experience of a lifetime, but my eyes are on the prize. I want top 10 in the Leadville 100 and I can’t do that on a broken or ruptured ankle.

Already- without even achieving the new FKT, I was so fulfilled with the depth of the experience as it stood. Not only did I get to spend 5 beautiful days doing nothing but existing and moving down the trails I love, with the people I love, but I got to experience the kindness and generosity of people around me more than I ever thought possible. So many people came to help, from so far away, even Louisiana! People I barely knew in some cases showed up, willing to help me achieve some stupid goal that gives them nothing in return. When schedules changed, and we needed people in a crunch, y’all showed up. Emergency pacers coming to run in the middle of the night between work schedules and family responsibilities, surprise crew and pacers helping not just me, but Tim and Brooke as they were exhausted with their crew duties, people being incredible humans. I felt like I got to experience so much already, and that I didn’t need to continue on to achieve what I came for. I felt at peace about not finishing, which is not a normal thing for me. I was happy with my accomplishments, and in what I had witnessed in others. 

I’ll never have enough words to express the depths of my gratitude. The ultra community is amazing. My partner, Tim is incredible. He was in it with me completely. We were doing it together. This was a complete joint effort, and I’m so lucky to have so many amazing people around me. Thank you to every single person who cheered me on from home, and from the trail, who showed up to help in person, and especially to those who had to deal with the emotional train wreck, better known as “Trail Lauren”. Thank you and be fierce!