By Erik Johnson
Until this year, I never understood why virtual races were a thing. What’s the point of paying for a race that doesn’t actually exist? Nobody to race against. No free snacks at the end. No waiting in line for porta-potties. It just didn’t make sense to me. Then the pandemic arrived, and races started disappearing. At the time, I was training for my first 100 miler at the Riverlands 100 in May. I had run a 20 mile relay leg at Riverlands the year before and paced a friend for 40 miles of his first 100 miler there two years before that. It was finally my turn to take a shot at 100 miles.
January and February were some of the best months of training I had ever put together. For a few weeks, I thought I had a good shot at finishing in the top three, possibly winning, if everything came together on race day. March started strong, but soon the uncertainty of whether the race was actually happening began to wear on me.
Catching a winter sunrise atop Bradbury Mountain
I had made it through the worst of the Maine winter with strong, consistent miles. I had run through snowstorms, temperatures below -15 °F, and the loneliness that putting in the long winter miles can bring. But suddenly, not knowing whether there would be a race began sucking any motivation right out of me. It was early April when we found out the Riverlands 100 was officially canceled.
Snowmobile trails and a frosted beard courtesy of the frigid temps
I decided to take some time off. People kept asking why I didn’t try to do a big solo run just to put some of my fitness to good use. But to me, it wasn’t what I had been training for. I wanted to run the Riverlands 100, I wanted to experience it with so many of the familiar faces I knew would be there, and I wanted that belt buckle.
Shortly after the official cancellation of the Riverlands 100, taking in the view and trying to figure out what happens next
More and more race organizers started hosting virtual events, but initially, I had no interest. The first one to catch my eye came in June, though, with the Quarantine Backyard Ultra. I didn’t have plans to run it but knew a bunch of people who were. That first day I found myself checking Strava almost every hour to see who had made it another round. The next morning I woke up to see if anyone I knew was still running. One of my friends made it just past the 100 mile mark. Then there was Michael Wardian, who just kept going. After 62 hours of running, a controversial start to lap 63 brought the race to an end. It was almost as fun as trying to follow the Barkley Marathons on Twitter. The Quarantine Backyard Ultra showed the best of what virtual racing could be, while also showing some of the downfalls of modern technology.
My first virtual race wasn’t until July, the Bradbury Scuffle 6 Mile Trail Race. The unique part of this race was the simple fact that you had to run it on the actual race course and submit your time and GPS data for verification. The course wouldn’t be marked, and there was nobody else out there to follow or tell you where to go. You had to race, but you also had to navigate. A friend of mine took a shot at the race, knocking it out of the park, but his GPS watch decided not to record anything even closely resembling the course, so it didn’t count. Another friend kept taking the wrong trail and had to backtrack several times.
I finally decided to take a swing at the race on the last day possible. I had been trying to start running more consistently again, but a new work schedule and long hours were making it almost impossible for me to run during the week. Not knowing what kind of shape I was in but knowing the time I had to beat, I took off down the trail.
Mud season in Maine
Mile one was good, just under the target pace. Miles two through four were on fairly technical singletrack. I knew they would be a little slower, but there would be some room to make up the time the last two miles. As my watch counted off those miles, it looked as if I was well behind my goal time. Making it out of the singletrack, it would take a big effort those last two miles for me to finish under my goal time. As I pulled into the final stretch of the race, I realized two things. The first was that I was three minutes faster than what I had been hoping to run. The second was that my watch only recorded five and a half miles.
I was almost certain I had run the course correctly, but a small part of me had doubts as I waited for the data to upload onto Strava. When it finally uploaded, the recorded distance was only five and a half miles, but Strava verified that I hadn’t missed any of the course. The singletrack had been messing with my watch’s recorded distance, causing me to think I was behind when I was really slightly ahead.
Virtual race two was the Bradbury Breaker 9 Mile Trail Race in August. Like usual, I waited until the final weekend to take my shot at it. Someone had already recorded a time that was a few minutes faster than I had run the race the year before, so I didn’t have any crazy expectations. There was a 12 minute gap between the top two times. My goal was simply to put in a good effort and find myself in the middle of them.
For the most part, the race went smoothly. It’s a two-lap race, and the only mistake I made and corrected was a brief turn down the wrong trail to come off the mountain on the first lap. Lap two, I made sure not to mess that up again. So I thought.
I uploaded the run to Strava, but something seemed off. That’s when I realized that on lap two, I was supposed to run down the trail I had accidentally started going down on the first lap. I made a wrong turn with less than a mile to go, and my whole race didn’t count. It was Friday, there were only two days left to take another shot, and I had plans to do a 20 miler with some friends on Saturday. So, that’s how I found myself back at the starting line for the Bradbury Breaker on Sunday, already having a 9 mile “race” in the legs from Friday and a 20 miler from Saturday.
My first instinct was just to run the course and not really race it. Once the clock started ticking, though, there was no way I wasn’t going to at least try to race. I ended up running the right course five minutes faster than I had on Friday. Not good enough for a win, but it would be good enough for a top three showing that I was proud of.
“Do I like virtual races now? No, not really. I still miss the people. I miss having a marked race course. I miss free snacks at the end.”
Do I like virtual races now? No, not really. I still miss the people. I miss having a marked race course. I miss free snacks at the end. But there’s one more virtual race left on my schedule to finish out the summer Bradbury Dirt Series, the Bradbury Bruiser 12 Mile Trail Race.
Some in-person races are starting to come back, and I’m signed up for a 50K this October. In the meantime, while I don’t think virtual races can fully replace the in-person race day experience, they can provide their own unique highs and lows and a completely different set of challenges… and what runner doesn’t like a good challenge?
About the Author
Erik Johnson lives in Pownal, Maine, and runs most of his miles at Bradbury Mountain State Park. He’s still dreaming of finishing his first 100 miler, but he also loves jumping in the occasional local 5K. When not running, you can probably find him hiking or camping with his wife and puppy.
