Latissumus Dorsi Conquers Manitou’s Revenge

Let’s start by saying this is not going to be your regular race report. This is going to hit fast and hard just like Manitou’s Revenge does. A truly surreal experience where you will question your sanity and where things are so bizarre you will contemplate if what you are experiencing is actually happening in real life.

This race started for me a year ago. Unfortunately, I got Covid right before the race and was only cleared a day before we were to depart. I questioned whether I should even go through with it, but I didn’t want to burn any bridges by dropping at the extreme last minute. I had also had everything set up for a fun camping weekend, so after turning around once on my way, I headed off for the mountains of NY. The journey ended in missed cutoffs and a drop around mile 30. Unfinished business for sure, and I had a taste of the lurking beast that is Manitou’s Revenge.

First Blood: Part 2:
This time, my long-time running buddy Tony Taylor was joining me along with the supporting cast of my ever-present heroine, my girlfriend Denise Freeman. Having Tony along for the ride was going to be a much-needed boost, as we have been in many ultra foxholes together. Both of us had the objective of finishing this race on this attempt, for as much as I love Phoenicia and NY, the 8-hour drive is a lot to be doing continuously for a race, what with family and other obligations.

Gear: Check
For this race I want to mention my gear because it definitely had an effect on my race. I opted for the La Sportiva Akashi 2 because it is as rugged of a trail shoe as they come, and I was going to need it for this monster for its traction and footing. I wore the Vermont Darn Tough trail sock (more on this later) and the rest of me was head to toe in USWE gear.

So, It Begins….
Since the race was so far away from where I live, I brought Denise to work with me on Thursday and we left straight from there as soon as I was finished for the day. This didn’t shave off too much time overall but saved us from driving excessively back and forth as well as having to travel 7+ hours the day before the race. Friday before the race, I learned last year, needs to be precious rest time as the bus leaves at 3:30am sharp on Saturday morning for the start.

On our way we had the opportunity to study some for my upcoming NASM personal trainer exam and some of the Latin names that are used for muscles struck me as wildly amusing. One in particular was Latissimus Dorsi, which reminded me of some sort of superhero gladiator, and I told my girlfriend that I may have to become Latissimus Dorsi to conquer this race, which we both found funny. Although we left at 2pm and only had a nice quick dinner at a popular PA eatery, we didn’t reach our destination campground until almost 11pm due to rerouting for an accident. Fortunately, we are getting pretty efficient at setting up camp quick no matter what weather or lighting conditions we encounter. Into the tent we went, and we were out.

My buddy Tony arrived shortly after us and in the morning we all convened and talked strategy and the plan for the day. Easy. Check out the town, shop, rest, eat and then pick up packets and bed. While out in the cute town of Phoenicia, a critical gear change was made. I came across the Darn Tough socks in a local shop and decided they would be much better than the Balega road socks I had originally brought. Later I would be glad I made this change. On our way to collect my bib, we happened upon some VHTRC friends, Ellen Hart and Patrick Vaughan, one wearing a Bull Run Run sweatshirt, which was a welcome sight so far from home. The pickup for the bibs was seamless and we had time to get back and even make delicious dark chocolate sea salt caramel s’mores. Amazing. Then… lights out at 6:30pm.

Race Morning:
Wake up was 2am, explaining the need for such a coordinated effort for rest the day before, and we worked efficiently to get all the necessities taken care of before my girlfriend drove Tony and I to the bus pickup at 3:10 on the nose. This is when the rain started. Denise told us that she had some garbage bags we could put on and proceeded to hand us some 13-gallon kitchen bags… nice try lol… still put it on, but Tony kindly declined. The race staff are masters at bus loading, and we were on our way at exactly 3:30am. If you do this race, don’t plan on this being the time you get to sneak a nap. It’s a bumpy ride to the start.

In the past the start took place at a pavilion, which added a couple extra road miles to the course. This year we started at a house, and it eliminated those extra road miles, so this year’s course was slightly different. The race starts in waves, with the elites in the first couple, followed by an assortment of mixed runners in the following waves, all spaced 5 minutes apart. Tony and I were grouped in wave 5 but I had the opportunity to say a quick hello to my fellow USWE teammate and friend, Jana Fridrichová. 5am came quick and they started releasing the waves like Zeus releasing the Kraken, a sea of runners pouring into the wilds of the Catskills to take on The Mighty Manitou.

Down The Rabbit Hole… Time To Get Weird!
Quick disclaimer: I met a lot of people in a short period of time and I can’t remember names, so this is going to get fast and furious, just like this race is. For everyone I ran with, I will try to seek you out and follow up as promised after the results come out, so my apologies in advance for my spotty memory right now.

The first mile or so on the road was for both Tony and me our fastest mile. We spent the time making small talk with our wave, picking the brains of veterans and saying hi to those I met last year. As I entered the trail, a lot came back to me quickly, remembering how that first 10 miles really gives you a good uppercut to the mouth with those climbs, descents, roots and rocks.

I was able to collect some photo evidence from other runners to show here, as I intentionally left my phone at the tent so I would not be tempted to let it slow me down. As beautiful as this race is, the cut offs can be no joke and Tony and I were going for it. We were trying to ease into the race, and it was very hard to gain momentum as the race does not mess around from the start. We became separated a lot in the first 10 miles due to our running styles. He is very good at the downhill sections where I excel in the ascent.

It was perpetual rain for most of the race, foggy and few views, and the slippery rocks left little to no sure footing. Falling off sh*t became the new norm. My shoe choice in the La Sportiva was justified at this point, as they assisted in keeping me mostly upright. The grip was on point, but it was evident with foot swelling from constant water logging and foot pounding on rocks that the narrow foot of the shoe might come back to haunt me.

A little after the first aid station there is a downed plane on the course, which is a pretty wild sight, like who just leaves a plane out in the woods! After that there are some climbs and some technical sections that are pretty rough. After aid station 2 is a pretty run-able section that if you want to make cut offs you need to get into gear and start chasing that white rabbit faster into wonderland. Tony and I were separated at this point. I didn’t want to run too fast here so I was running between a 12- and 14-minute pace, not wanting to blow up, but needing to clean up my miles a bit. This part went much faster than I thought it was going to take and I made it to aid station 3 in no time, hours ahead of when I made it there last year.

I was really excited to be doing better than last year, but I had a problem. The inside of my right knee was shooting pain, the running was very different than what I’m used to on this very technical terrain. This was concerning as it was very early on in the race, with still about 30 miles to go. Even though my knee had me concerned, I happily left the aid station spreading joy and continued on.

This next section is what broke me last year; I had pushed really hard, and I still couldn’t make cutoff. This time I ran the runnable sections hard and hit those climbs even harder, it was crazy and relentless and took forever, but I was again hours ahead of last year and made the cut off with plenty of time to spare.

I was happy to actually see this aid station open and not packed up this time. I slammed a bunch of drinks, ate some food, and got the contents from my drop bag and as I was about to head out, Tony was rolling in. I told him I would see him out there and as I was leaving, my buddy Joe, who I met at Bull Run Run 50, was headed out, too. We were following a guy ahead of us, not paying attention and went to the waterfall there, off course, but it wasn’t a really big deal though, mileage-wise. We got some slight bonus mileage, backtracked to where we were supposed to be and headed to the Devils Path where we were greeted by Tony again and my friend Jennifer Rankin. Tony was talking about the logistics he was reading off his watch map with the technical aspects of the course coming up and Jen pointed to the mountain and said: “See that mountain, you’re going over that!” Which came across as very accurate and simple and hilarious and terrifying all at the same time. I knew I was in trouble. I had no idea what madness was about to ensue.

This section started off with a climb that basically didn’t end. It was something you couldn’t run up. You had to scramble and climb, which was intensely time consuming. I lost track of how many times we had to do this as we were climbing up what seemed to be a never-ending cycle of wet, slick madness. Just put a hat on me at this point and serve me tea because this party was off-kilter.

With that said, we were still in good spirits and we had a good group going with about five or so of us, occasionally picking new people up as one or two dropped off, only to return to us later. Working together to get though it made it a pretty pleasurable experience by the way we were getting it done. For some reason we thought this section was winding down, only… it wasn’t winding down. We get to a point where it is time to make a decent and we all stare down in horror…. We were going to have to slide down the same stuff we were basically rock scrambling up.

A mile took us an hour. Tony was faster at making these descents, so he went ahead. Two runners who were not as comfortable making them stuck with me and we made them together, taking them cautiously. I have no regrets about this decision. There was some leapfrogging at this point where I caught back up with Tony and then lost him again, but mainly stayed with the guy and gal who were playing it safe with me.

The rest of the race can be described as: How did we handle the aftermath of Devils Path? Broken? Determined? Rickety, but still going? To say it hurt me would be accurate. Feet a mess, everything hurt, a shuffle was what I felt was my best effort the majority of the time. My last-minute sock swap before the race was definitely known to me as a clinch move as the road socks would have made my thrashed feet unbearable at this point.

The last 5 miles they gave us a descent of loose rocks that were slippery and abusive to your feet that had been put through the gamut already. I struggled mightily here. I became… Latissimus Dorsi. Alone, I found myself saying this out loud. I am Latissimus Dorsi. I must overcome and fight. Everything hurt my feet, even walking hurt my feet.

One mile before the finish there is an unmanned water stop. When I saw this, I was so happy because this meant I was on the paved home stretch to Phoenicia and the finish. My legs were fine, but my feet were messed up. The course doesn’t put too much hurt on your running muscles, but does a number on the feet, so the road felt nice. I was very happy to get to that finish and see Denise. But with my jacked-up feet and craving a shower I didn’t stick around. I had done what I came to do, and we took the short walk through the woods back to our haven and called it a success.

Final Thoughts:
I wouldn’t even call this a running event. It’s more like a timed mountaineering experience. To me what is most fascinating is the people it draws out. What a cast of amazing characters. From all over the world. Who have done the hardest races in the world. Their resumes are something out of a hall of fame. The reward of this adventure to me was spending time with them all, learning from them and working on such a hard challenge together. I’ll never forget it. If you want a truly unique and intensely challenging experience, you should give Manitou’s Revenge a try; it might change you, too!

[Editor’s Note: 2023 Results]

Photos