SweetAir, SweetWater

The plan was to drive to Atlanta on Friday, wake up the next day and run the sweetH2O 50k like last year. At least that was the plan on Tuesday before a buddy of mine, Sean Blanton, who was also signed up for the 50k the next day, asked if I wanted to go skydiving.
After I announced to a group of friends my Friday plans, asking if anyone wanted to come, ROTC buddy and all round good dude, Will Hudson, enthusiastically told me that he would also like to jump out of a plane with me on Friday. After rounding up two more of his friends we set off for Moore Airfield near Cedartown, GA for our first, and probably not last, skydive. When we arrived from Auburn, there were quite a number of people in line ahead of us. After filling out some papers/ waivers that basically said, "You might die, and if you do, your family can't sue us," we waited. Several hours it ended up being so by the time we finally got on the plane, the sun was setting, painting the distant thin clouds a dark orange.
Our otter (a two prop with about a capacity for 18) started down the airfield and away we ascended. After a few minutes, I looked out the window and thought, "dang, we are really getting up here" and about that time one of the other jumpers read his altimeter and announced that we were at 7,000 feet, half way. Dang.
Since this was a tandem jump, I was tightly strapped to a very experienced instructor who would take care of the whole landing and jumping thing, so pretty much all I had to do was hang there. As if I needed any more confidence in my instructor, this guy was a Green Beret HALO instructor. Couldn't've chosen a better man for the job. I thought that was pretty awesome.
The orange light next to the door lit up. Everyone was prepared and ready to drop.
GREEN LIGHT. The door opens. My heart rate starts climbing faster than our airplane just had. There were about 5 jumpers ahead of myself and my instructor. Our turn. The wind was rushing by the door really fast. We kneel over to the edge and I assume the crossed arm, bent back position; time to go. "1, 2, 3!" He pushes us off. We spin backwards for a bit so I could see the door from which I had just emerged. Zero to 120 mph in no time at all. !!!!! The air made a ton of noise all around us as we plummeted to the earth. My adrenaline was pumping like it never had before, and I stretch out my arms and bend my back, assuming the skydivers pose. No roller coaster, no fast acceleration in any car is anything like this rush. All in, balls out free falling at terminal velocity from 14,000 feet. I try to yell but the wind makes it impossible to produce noise.
We do a few spins and turns; he moves my left arm to show me how to guide yourself as you fall. We move left, then right, and several seconds later the chute is pulled, slowing us down almost as fast as we had sped up.
"Look over there. See those mountains? That's Alabama," my instructor tells me. We chat for a little while about Army stuff as our canopy returns us safely back to earth.
Skydiving is Awesome. What an incredible day!
That night I met a friend from Camp Winnataska that I haven't seen for almost two years. After returning from dinner, her parents are nice enough to let me stay in their guest bedroom.
A solid 5 hours of sleep later, I'm up and heading to the start of the race. As all the runners gather around the man with the megaphone, some sons of Confederate Veterans ready their replica cannon to fire, starting the race.
BOOM, and the participants are off, getting their lungs filled with gunpowder smoke as we run through the cannon cloud.
This year, the race route had been altered slightly. This time around it would essentially be two big loops of the same course, meaning at some point in the day, we were to run right past the starting line and run the loop again.
My biggest concern of the day was the condition of my right foot. I'd been having some unusual pain on the top of it that would typically flare up after just a few miles. Over the day it definitely didn't feel 100% but thankfully it didn't impede my progress.
3 miles in and I misjudge the height of a fallen tree that I had to climb over. My right need caught the side of it pretty good and the blood started flowing. Nice battle scar I suppose. It hurt but I knew it was only cosmetic. I'd be fine. The course's infamous power line section was up next, pretty much several series of very steep ups and downs that followed the power lines, oddly enough. This being only about an hour and twenty minutes into the race, the first time over the Top of The World (TOTW, the highest point in the race with a nice view) wasn't too bad. The first time never is.
A couple of miles later and the trail spits us back to our starting point. One loop down. I see my car as I pass by; that piece of technology that makes running essentially obsolete,that technology that can take me as far as I want and all I have to do is fill it with gas and you're good to go. I waved goodbye to that wonderful piece of technology as I began my second loop. I caught up to Sean and ended up passing him a few miles later. He and another group had taken a wrong turn at an ambiguous trail intersection. The river crossing wasn't too many miles later. By then my foot really needed some numbing. It was starting to bother me. Not throw me off my game, it was just a little uncomfortable.
I ford the swift moving river with some difficulty and run a three mile loop before crossing back with even more difficulty. On the way back I slipped on a rock and nailed my shin on another. Nice, a bruised left shin and a bleeding right knee. Eh, I'd run it off. Really, the pain in these fresh injuries took my mind off of the usual pain I feel at this point in a race. It was like that opening scene in the movie Major Pain where he breaks the soldier's finger to take his pain off a bullet wound.
That river crossing was a real Godsend at that point in the race. The sun was doing well to make itself known and the water was a perfect temperature. Speaking of a Godsend, the next aid station had peeps! Now I've pretty much eaten less than 2 peeps ever before today, but I needed some sugar. Lots and those peeps delivered. I immediately remembered why I never eat them. bleh, I had a pretty bad taste in my mouth after that.
I caught up with Jay, a friend I had met at Cheaha about 2 months ago, after that aid station at the start of TOTW part 2. He had been having a pretty good day up until those last few miles. The exposed power line trails leave nothing between the sun and your backside. Couple that with 20+ miles on your legs and ascent after ascent that will bring many seasoned runners to a slow hike and its no wonder this section slowed so many people down.
I was running out of gatorade at this point. I didn't really realize the distance between that last aid station and the next after TOTW. I was rationing my 2oz's of fluid I had left in my bottle until I finally got to the third to last aid station. They had a big ol bucket of ice with water and fruit. Another much needed Godsend. At this out and back aid station, I noticed that there were only 3 people ahead of me. I was in 4th! I had no idea I was this far ahead and the guy in 3rd seemed to be struggling. I managed to pass him shortly after.
The last of the power lines were finally behind me and I hit one of the central aid stations, the one I had seen several times over the day, for the final time. My strategy of going out easy to save energy later was paying off. I worked to put as much distance between me and the guy behind me to secure my third place finish.
A mile and a half to go. I kept glancing behind me to make sure no one was on my heels. Those last few miles were rough. My battered self crossed the line in 5:35 and change, around 10 minutes behind the guy who came in second. Though the course was tough and my body beaten, the fulfillment I felt for finishing my first ultra in the top three made up for how the rest of me felt.
It's been a long while since I've gone more than 3 days without running. I think I might take the next five off.