Remembering the beautiful scenery last year, I knew I would and did sign up for my second 50K at the New River Trail Races in as many years, hosted by Southwest Virginia Running in Fries, Virginia, on April 11, 2026. The differences would be that the course would return to the original–last year required a slight modification due to the ongoing effect of Hurricane Helene–and the much hotter forecast. For a couple of weeks, my legs felt fatigued not during but after each of my relatively short runs in my new snug ASICS sneakers, and I initially blamed the shoes being too tight and became concerned prior to realizing I likely just did not give myself enough break following the recent 25K race on a technical trail.
My COROS PACE 2, as has been the case frequently as of late, refused to lock my heart rate for minutes leading up to the run, so I had to start the watch without it; I did not care as long as my distance was accurate. Conservatively, I planned on running in the upper 9:00/mile pace until my body told me to slow down, but my legs would effortlessly carry me much faster, and I recorded the first half marathon just past 2:05. Nevertheless, around 15 miles in, my body abruptly felt heavier, and my slowing down became inevitable, evident beginning 20 miles. I spoke to many participants post-race who said the exact same, that they felt fresh for the first 15 miles then bonked, and we theorized our bodies were not yet accustomed to the heat this year, with the high likely reaching 80 degrees. The pebbles became more noticeably painful, and some sections felt hillier than I recalled. Like I do in all races, I continued to ask God for help and to send His angels my way to run with me. I found it entertaining that supposedly my bib number of 111 is a number that symbolizes angels or some such nonsense; I would take it more seriously if this concept originated from the Bible, which of course it did not.
On this original course, the initial turnaround came sooner at 15 miles and the segment that was omitted last year appeared at 25 miles, which felt to be all climbing. Here, I ran into a young lady running her first-ever ultramarathon, and we shared over 5 miles toward the end, conversing about a variety of topics. I can confidently say that, without her, I would not have pushed as hard. I crossed the finish line, 31.44 miles on my COROS, officially in 6:16:50.6, merely 47.9 seconds slower than the previous year and probably a stronger performance factoring in the new hilly segment and the temperature. I thank my Lord for this unique hobby that is such a powerful metaphor for life and always watching over me.




















