Smoky Mountain FKT (pt. 1)

Double SCAR Unsupported FKT — Blog part 1

June 22, 2025:

Writing about Double SCAR has been harder for me than pretty much any other adventure. I’m not entirely sure why. Part of it has been due to extreme brain fog and fatigue immediately after and literally not having memories for probably 10 days following it.

I plunged back into work 36 hours after I finished, (not missing a beat), which took everything out of me cognitively. My brainpower was also focused on managing the inevitable physical ailment aftermath which involved some heavy duty triage 24/7. Multiple friends report talking with me on the phone within the first week or so and I genuinely don’t have any memory of what we talked about. I hosted a vegan potluck 4.5 days after finishing and I had an incredibly difficult time holding a conversation and I have minimal memories from the gathering.

It took about two weeks to begin to feel like I had my mental faculties back, but the memories around D-SCAR feel distant, like they happened years ago. It’s as if I experienced a traumatic brain injury of sorts and/or my brain is literally protecting me from remembering.

Sep 6, 2025:

I have been writing my blog posts in my mind now for three months and jotting down scattered notes in my moments of “down time.” And finally, today, I have decided to begin re-watching my documentary from D-SCAR to feel closer to my memories and once and for all, publish this monster of a blog…

The days leading up to the event are kind of key, which is why I wrote about them a few months back. My lack of sleep hygiene played a massive role in the days leading up to my FKT. But in general, my mental state was focused, excited, nervous, and ready.

Day -1: travel day. Sprints through DFW and 4-ish hours of sleep.

Getting to the start was a typical Sprout tornado of chaos. I made the last minute decision to push back my start date due to weather, which meant finishing on a Monday instead of a Sunday. I know this disappointed Chap (my crew member), as he had worked hard to try to get a local Girls-on-the-run group and other people to be at my finish. Monday finish (with no real time estimate…) made gathering a finish line crowd nearly impossible.

However, starting in pouring rain and enduring the rain for the first 24 hours was a recipe for hypothermia and didn't seem wise. Luckily, the nature of FKTs versus a sanctioned race, is that one can start whenever they want! This extra day on the ground in North Carolina was also a gift as it allowed me to mentally prepare a bit more, scout things out, and prep my gear more carefully. In hind sight, I needed this extra day to relax and be at Fontana Dam, in the environment/ecosystem of the event. (Note to self or others — plan buffer days with no real plans when doing big events).

Leaving Austin wasn’t so easy. My 6:00 am flight to DFW was delayed due to a flight attendant who was sick that morning (but luckily came to work eventually!). We were so delayed they were handing out cards to everyone to rebook their connections in Dallas. My plan was to sprint to make my connection in Dallas or rebook for later that evening, but there was still a slim chance I would make my connection. But would my luggage?!!

I boarded the plane and, of course, I was in the second to last row. I asked a flight attendant if I could move up in the plane so I could run to try to make my connection and they moved me toward the front of the plane. When we landed in Dallas, I ran and ran and ran. I didn’t take the sky train. I just ran my heart out and I barely made it! Phew!

I was so tired but pumped with adrenaline and nervous energy, there was no way I would get a wink of sleep on the plane. I had only had about 4 hours of sleep due to a late night of last-minute packing and work stuff and a super early wake up call. This was not good. I needed to be sleep banking to get 9-10 hours of sleep the weeks and especially days leading up to Double SCAR. The last week prior I was running on 5-ish hours at the most each night. Overactive Virgo brain was the likely culprit.

When I arrived at the airport, “Chap” was there with a car full of supplies! We went to eat some lunch and get groceries and then headed to Fontana Dam, NC. The drive would be suuuuuper windy and is famously known by sports car and motorcycle enthusiasts as “The Tail of the Dragon.” There are even photographers along the route taking pictures and selling them to the vehicles driving the segment. I was incapable of staying awake, so Chap agreed to drive like a grandma so I could get some shut eye. I slept for about 1 hour in the car and woke up just before arriving.

Oh my god! I was blown away by the misty magical beauty of the Smoky mountains! The fog and cloudy mist rolling through the mountains made everything feel like a fairy tale. I couldn’t believe I opened my eyes to such immense beauty. I somewhat recognized it, but it had been such a long time ago and I was in such a different place mentally and emotionally the last time I had been there, that my memory was foggy and tainted at best.

All I wanted to do was look out the window and drink in this mystical beauty. But run in it? I wasn’t so sure. It scared me a little. Maybe some lingering fear from my previous times as a thru-hiker in the smokies began to seep their way into the crevices of my being?

Arriving at the lodge, it all began to feel sharply familiar. I remembered last time I had just hiked SoBo through the Smokies on my AST thur hike in rain and snow and rain and snow and I had a Telehealth appt from the lodge. My Chillblains had begun to emerge enough that I knew I needed medical attention. Unfortunately, I was so sure the growing black/blue ulcers on my thighs was due to an insect bite, I asked for a Rx steroid cream, which of course only burned my chilblain ulcers and exacerbated the situation… (it was awful!).

This time, it was June and I could nearly guarantee the mountains wouldn’t have freezing temperatures, and the shorts I would wear are a little longer so they will protect my thighs. My body felt the memories of feeling alone with a pretty serious medical condition as I began the hard work to mentally and emotionally reclaim this trail and my power.

Day 0: Day before attempt (original start date) 4.5 hours of sleep

I made the last minute decision to post-pone and I’m so glad I did! It was POURING all day and of course the weather was quite a bit worse up in the mountains. This day allowed me some time to gather my mind, scout the start/finish, and attempt to do a little shakeout hike on the AT.

Seeing my first white blaze in 6 years, since getting divorced, made me emo. Those blazes kept me company for millions of steps for nearly 5 months. They were steady reassurances I was on trail, and reminders I was making progress. Some segments of trail had different styles with the white blazes, but the consistency of the white blaze felt like home. All you have to do is keep walking and the blazes guide you and keep you company along the way. And then I saw a DOUBLE blaze, signaling a turn! My heart! And I LOVE the blazes through the more urban parts of the world as they feel like hidden markers to only a very small subset of people (thru hikers). The blazes on picnic tables, street signs, and lampposts are a map to us, while the tourists, pedestrians, or day hikers can’t even see them. The white blazes mark an invisible pilgrimage to those walking from Georgia to Maine, and I revel in their magic.

I mostly followed my plan and timeline for the day, however, I fell behind schedule and kept putting off learning my new Coros watch. I dragged my feet to purchase the watch in the first place (and contemplated returning it after the event) because I didn’t want to commit myself to doing more gigantic efforts after this. If it’s one-and-done, maybe I don’t need to invest any money into new gear?… The watch is HUGE and weighs a ton. It kind of pisses me off tbh because this Coros watch is specifically meant for ultra ultra endurance events. It has an insane run time. In the world of ultra running, women are clearly beginning to dominate men in the sport. But we have smaller and more petite frames and it seems like the gear designers should start with prototypes for females and then accommodate/modify for the males. But alas… we are stuck with gigantic watches that simply do not fit well (and kind of hurt if you’re not used to it!)

Needless to say, I had an extremely late night and found myself messing with my watch until about 10 pm before calling it a night. Then I spent some time setting a bunch of alarms for my different inhalers, B12, sport leg pills, caffeine, etc. I had a clear caffeine plan and needed to eliminate as much thinking from the event itself as possible. I wanted to set myself up for success by only having one task: execute the plan. Don't think, do.

At midnight, one of those trail alarms went off while I was in the bathroom and I couldn’t believe it was already time to go…. Noooo!!! I was not rested! Chap reassured me it was not the right time to wake up, so I went back to sleep for 2.5 more hours… at 2:35 am, my wake up alarm went off and I was up and at it.

NOT. ENOUGH. SLEEP.

And lots of adrenaline…. GO TIME!

Day 1: Started at 4:00 am on 5/31/25.

Miles 0-7: The very first bit was in SO. MUCH. THICK. FOG. I jogged uphill ~1 mile on the road to the trailhead and I couldn’t see at all. No headlamp setting allowed me visibility. I had to pull out my phone a few times to check the map on FarOut to make sure I hadn’t passed the trailhead turnoff from the road, which made for a bit of brainy start. My pack felt secure but between my three pockets, fanny pack, and stuffout backpack, I felt pretty weighed down. For the unsupported FKT, I needed to start with everything I would need for the entire effort.

It was a LOT of food... And it was heavy.

Once I hit the trail things began to feel real.

The first 2 hours 15 min were in the dark and totally uphill. The wind was ripping so loudly through the thick forest branches it was hard to hear my own thoughts. I tried to channel my sister, Shelley, as she talks about becoming at peace with the wind now that she lives in the windiest valley of Poncha Springs, CO. The trees were making creaking noises from the wind. I told myself the sounds reminded me of the little baby noises my precious niece makes, and I felt like she was there with me. I thought of Louly and Shelley during this stretch. I hiked, I ran, I shuffled, I moved. But it was chilly with the wind! It was also wet, so at times, it felt like it was raining heavily because the wind was blowing the water off the leaves so much.

Miles 7-9 The chorus of morning songbirds as the sun rose made me light up inside. It was still so dark after sunrise and I had to keep my headlamp on because I was in a thick cloud. The ground was muddy and wet. The Smokies are a rain forest, and the chords and melodies from the animals along with the rich smells of wet soil and thick green foliage made me feel enveloped with life. The daylight and sounds made me smile.

At mile 9, I passed Ekaneetlee Gap Spring and didn’t stop like I had planned. I had 1L of water and everything was so heavy I didn’t feel stopping was necessary. The next water stop was in 7.6 more miles. I was a little confused because I thought Ekaneetlee Gap Spring was supposed to be at mile 10, so either my watch was off by a mile, or my planning was off…

Mile 14.5: Passed my first 2 AT shelters and saw the section hikers making elaborate breakfasts, just chilling with all their layers and gear. I felt like I didn’t belong in some sense because my energy just didn’t match theirs at all. I felt a small longing for their slow pace, savoring the natural world differently from how I was experiencing it. I ran on by. I was worried beforehand about talking with other hikers and it slowing down my progress, but luckily everyone was in their own world and they had no clue I was doing what I was doing (or maybe they didn’t even see me?)…

Ooops… miscalculated the next water stop distance… It was 10 miles from Ekaneetlee Gap (5.2 miles from mile 14.5). I still had 0.8L of water. If needed, I could get off trail for some bonus milage to access other water sources, but I selected my water stops carefully as the most reliable and closest ones to the trail, if not directly on the trail.

The rhododendron groves and gentler terrain when I wasn’t climbing was a happy surprise. This trail felt familiar, like I lived in it in a past life kind of familiar. With the up and down elevation, I was a bit surprised by how much running and downhill I had so early on, which made my pace quicker and my ego stoked; I was ahead of “schedule!” My spirits were calm, steady, and lifted through this section of early morning trail. I am running on the AT y’all!

Miles 15-20  Climbing: colder, windier, muddier. Feet soaking wet due to overhanging wet grass. Trail wasn’t a stream, but it was super wet. Put more layers on (beanie & gloves), moving slowly up the climbs. I peed a lot all morning (coffee is a bladder irratant and I feel it)!

The sun FINALLY began to twinkle in the trees for the first time all day! I had been in a cloud for most of the morning. Knees were beginning to hurt on the downhills… why?! My pack was lighter than my AZT hiking pack (no sleeping or cooking equipment), so why didn't I feel like myself? Too early to know anything and I’m sure this will pass. I’m still “ahead of schedule.”

I decided to use my funnel to pour my soup mix electrolyte powder while walking — not a great choice! Holding my flimsy collapsable water bottle, unscrewing it, putting the funnel in it, then pouring the soup mix and then water in it, screwing the straw on and shoving it back in my vest pouch made for a difficult walking task (it became a nearly impossible task while NOT walking later!). I somehow managed to do it, however, I dropped my little funnel when I was putting the water bottles away. Luckily, I realized I was missing the funnel and hiked backward (noooo!) and easily find it in the middle of the trail a few minutes back.

I started to recognize little segments of trail that zig-zagged on the ridgeline! At one point, I accidetnally took the wrong way at a little summit. There was an arrow and blaze painted on rock, so I followed the arrow, and ended up on a different trail for a few minutes of downhill… Somethign felt funny about it... it just didn't 'feel' like the AT, so I checked the map on my phone and had to climb back up to the ridge where the AT was.

Chap had warned me about a trail intersection that was unmarked when he hiked on the AT, but thankfully, it was well marked now, so it was a non-issue.

Mile 28:

Food I’ve eaten so far:

• 1 quesadilla

• 90% PB & J

• 95% pack of chews

• 2 Soup mix baggies

• Fig bar

• 0.5 packet of LMNT electrolytes.

Sun was out. Feet felt good. Knees were hurting more and more on the downhills, making running feel strange. I never have knee pain. I'm usually quite strong with downhill running. This was quite unexpected and bizzare. Maybe it was all the weight?

Lungs felt the elevation (I was climbing up to 6,643’ at Kowohi, formerly Clingman’s Dome, and getting close to it now. It is the highest point on the entire Appalachian Trail). I just kept thinking “I don’t feel like myself” while running. The trail was rooty and steep. I started feeling like I was getting tendonitis in my left elbow from the huge/heavy Coros watch on my left wrist.

I put my headphones in and began listening to music because I was starting to get tired and sluggish a little. I was moving well and I was “ahead” of schedule, But I got super tired from the altitude and lack of sleep the three nights prior and was worried bc this was way too early to be feeling so fatigued.

I had 1.5 miles to go to the shelter where I would take a break, but this was a long stretch — soooo tired. I was so looking forward to being at the shelter — imagining a little nap… Looked like dark clouds were rolling in (consistent wind all day). Maybe I could get to the shelter and sit out a storm!

Low back was hurting, which NEVER happens in either running or backpacking. Why was my body experiencing so many aches and pains so early on? This part was supposed to be a warm up and the real stuff doesn't start until night. I even thought maybe I should have just carried my backpacking backpack becuase perhaps my running vest wasn’t meant to carry so much weight (not an actual good idea). I suddenly had the idea to turn my fanny pack from front to back and voila -- this instantly cured the low back pain. I also moved my watch to the inside of wrist to change its position and that eventually provided some relief to my elbow.

Mile 31: Double Spring Gap Shelter — water refill + nap & RR attempt?

Intense afternoon fatigue set in. I wanted to take a nap, but just laid there, ate some chips, and elevated my feet up the wall of the shelter while I snacked. No one was there, so I left a note in the shelter log: “Where is the privy? Double SCAR attempt, ~ Sprout.” I Could not find the privy after wandering around. I didn’t end up needing to go, so it was fine. But I was really tired. Too tired for this early.

Why don’t I feel like myself? (This question continued to plague me)...

Maybe this is just not my day. That’s okay. I can quit whenever I want and come back and do it later. I just know that the woman who finishes this thing has to be way stronger than I feel right now. After a 20 min shelter break (and no rain storm), I was hoping for a second wind to push me up these last two big climbs (Kuwohi & Mt. Collins) before dipping down into Newfound Gap. But I didn't exactly leave feeling refreshed and kept trudging along feeling like I was in slow motion.

Coffee this morning may be the cause of this afternoon crash? I am deliberately not using caffeine until later in the event, but drank some in the morning to help with a BM. Could it be the altitude? The lack of sleep the previous 3 nights? All of the above? For whatever reason, I felt so faded and it began to infiltrate my thinking.

Leaving the shelter I put on the Normal Gossip podcast. And pressed on in my tired stupor.

~37 miles & ~13 hours 24 min — Climb up Mt. Collins (steep climb…)

Leaving the shelter there was a stark change of scenery. The forest became darker as it transitioned to the typical higher altitude AT biome of thick pine forest. This push up Mt. Collins was the last big climb before Newfound gap. I still really tired. Exhausted. Moving and still ahead of schedule, but just didn’t feel like myself moving.

Finally, toward the top, I got my much awaited second wind after the sun began to dip (around 5:00 pm-ish). The climb didn’t feel as bad as I expected. Chap told me it was the hardest climb of my event — but it honestly felt kind of inconsequential — just like a regular, steep, rooty, rocky, muddy, AT climb.

My average speed was 2.7 MPH and I convinced myself I was happy-ish with this pace considering it had been 85% climbing, high elevation, and the heaviest my pack will be the whole time. My original plan had me arriving at Newfound Gap between 6:30-8:30 pm (this is the halfway point for single SCAR… 25% complete for me… but still a nice milestone). I was looking forward to dropping trash in a trash can as there are restrooms, a parking lot, and a trash can! I wanted to lighten the mess and my load a little bit. Minimizing the 'stuff' will help me not drop things when I reach into my pockets.

It was getting colder as the afternoon sun was lowering. I began appreciating the wind as it was keeping the mosquitoes away. I had seen 1 in the shelter for my break at mile 31, but I left before it could bother me.

My arms hurt, the way my pack is weighted — something pressing on a nerve. Hoping when my pack gets lighter I will readjust the weight a bit and put more food in my pockets.

I reached Newfound Gap (mile 41) by about 7:30 pm and kept pressing to the north side of the park into my first night... (so tired already...)