Stone Mill 50 Miler
Updated: 14 minutes ago
November 7, 2026
At 6:00 AM on a chilly fall Saturday, I found myself at the starting line of the Stone Mill 50 Miler in Montgomery Village, Maryland. It was still dark out, I had 50 miles of trails ahead, and I was about to spend most of the day running in the woods. What could possibly go wrong?
As it turns out, quite a bit! By the time I crossed the finish line, I'd climbed nearly 5,000 feet, taken a pretty spectacular fall, gotten lost in a field of horses, contemplated accepting a shot of Fireball, and had plenty of opportunities to question my life decisions. But I also experienced some incredible scenery, spent much-needed time in prayer and reflection after a difficult week, and came away with a renewed appreciation for what really matters. Let's get into it...
Race Morning
The Stone Mill 50 Miler starts at Stedwick Elementary School in Montgomery Village, Maryland. I was especially grateful that I'd grabbed my headlamp on the way out the door, as it was still completely dark when we lined up. One decision I was real happy with was leaving my drop bag at home. The race offered two opportunities to access drop bags along the course, but I've never been fond of waiting around after a race for volunteers to retrieve and distribute bags. I also wasn't convinced I'd need one. As it turned out, that was a winning decision. I kept my feet dry despite the numerous creek crossings, had everything I needed in my hydration vest, and the aid stations were exceptionally well stocked. No drop bag necessary!
When the starting horn sounded, I got a little carried away and led the race for much of the first mile, cruising at a 7:30 pace. Obviously, that wasn't going to last on the trails for 50 miles, but it sure was fun while it did! I eventually settled into the lead pack of runners, and we stayed together for approximately the first 10K before I started backing off the pace. My first half marathon came in at 2:11, which was a little quicker than I probably should have been running given what was ahead of me. I was also showing signs that I hadn't hydrated quite enough before the start or in the early miles. Note to self: Drink more water.
Running Reflections
One of the things I was looking forward to about this race was the opportunity to disconnect for a while. It had been a difficult week, including some emotionally heavy conversations that left me feeling pretty drained. I had also been adjusting to a new return-to-office requirement at work, which took effect November 1. After working remotely since 2015, getting back into the routine of commuting into DC, dealing with traffic, and working in a noisy office environment has been quite an adjustment! So I was definitely ready for a break.
I spent portions of the day listening to sermons and podcasts, including a few episodes of Father on Purpose. As the name suggests, it's a podcast geared toward dads, helping men live, love, and lead their families in a godly manner. I especially enjoyed the episodes focused on identity and purpose. After an exhausting week, it was exactly the reminder I needed: who I am, who God created me to be, and what really matters. My identity isn't determined by the opinions of others. It's rooted in something considerably more important.
And there's something else I discovered during all those hours out on the trails. Going all day without phone calls, text messages, emails, or app notifications is AMAZING! No inbox to check. No notifications demanding my attention. No meetings, deadlines, or distractions. Just running, listening, praying, thinking, and enjoying God's creation. Granted, I wouldn't necessarily recommend spending 10 hours running through the woods as everyone's preferred method of disconnecting. But there's something refreshing about stepping away from the constant noise of everyday life and focusing on what really matters. I think I needed the day more than I realized.
Hills, Rocks, and Roots
If there's one thing I learned about the Stone Mill race course, it's that there are is a deceptive amount of hills. And rocks. And roots. And switchbacks. And more hills. The course winds through the Seneca Greenway and Muddy Branch trail systems, offering a combination of wooded singletrack, creek crossings, open fields, and some gorgeous scenery along the water. It's a beautiful place to run, but it's certainly not an easy course. I hadn't studied the elevation profile particularly closely beforehand, which might have been a mistake, but I was just too busy. The final tally was 4,993 feet of elevation gain! There was also a memorable detour around mile 26 when I somehow managed to run about a half-mile off course and found myself in a giant field full of horses. DOH! Fortunately, I found my way back to the course before getting lost.
Nutrition-wise, I kept things pretty simple throughout the day. A combination of PB&J squares, Coca-Cola, peanut butter pretzels, Goldfish crackers, and peanut butter chocolate Hammer gels (thanks, Tom!) kept me moving. The aid stations were fantastic, especially considering this is a relatively small race. The volunteers were incredibly friendly and helpful, and there was always plenty of food and drink available. My favorite was probably the lumberjack-themed aid station just after the marathon mark, at mile 27.8, officially designated the Stone Mill aid station. They had a small tortilla wrap with sliced sweet potato and avocado inside, and it was absolutely delicious. More importantly, it immediately restored some much-needed energy. It was surprisingly filling and sustained me for the next 90 minutes of running. Who knew a little sweet potato and avocado could make such a difference?
The Mental Battle
Somewhere between miles 20 and 25, I started having those familiar thoughts that every ultrarunner knows all too well. Why am I doing this? What's the point? I've already finished longer races than this, and I have nothing to prove. I could just quit, find a place to grab lunch, and go home to enjoy a Saturday with my family.
Honestly, that sounded pretty appealing at the time. I was missing Sarah and Abby, the trails were getting increasingly challenging, and I was starting to question the wisdom of spending an entire Saturday running through the woods. But then I started thinking about the story I wanted to tell when I got home. I've completed 100Ks and two 100-mile races. I knew exactly what I was getting into when I signed up for this race. Fifty miles wasn't going to be easy, but it certainly wasn't beyond my capabilities. And perhaps more importantly, I NEVER quit.
I had also shared my live tracking link with my trail running group and several of my new coworkers, who would be following me for the first time. What would I want them to think of me?
"Will quits when things get hard" isn't exactly the reputation I'm interested in building! Knowing that people were tracking and rooting for me provided a little extra motivation. I didn't want to walk away from something simply because it had become uncomfortable. I knew what I had committed to, and I wanted to see it through. So I pressed on. The mental battle eventually subsided, and I settled back into running. I was reminded of something I've learned through years of ultrarunning:
The only way is THROUGH.
That doesn't mean every mile is enjoyable, or that you won't question your decisions along the way. It simply means you keep moving forward, one step at a time.
The physical challenge, however, was about to get considerably more interesting. Around mile 30, my left foot, which has been recovering from posterior tibial tendonitis since January, started hurting pretty badly. Eventually, it seemed like the pain was shifting into my right foot as well.
The combination of the rocky, root-filled terrain, relentless hills, and accumulating fatigue was taking its toll. I was listening to a sermon from my old church about the Holy Spirit, and I began praying for strength and help to finish the race. Several passages of Scripture came to mind:
"For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, love, and self-discipline." (2 Timothy 1:7)
"I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." (Philippians 4:13)
"I am with you always, to the very end of the age." (Matthew 28:20)
I kept coming back to those words, asking the Lord to help me keep going. At one point, I actually asked, "Why am I here, Lord?" And almost immediately, I was humbled by one of the most beautiful views of the entire day. I found myself overlooking one of the rivers, surrounded by the beauty of God's creation. It reminded me of the Rim to River 100-miler, another race where I had the opportunity to experience some truly breathtaking scenery. What a blessing it is to be able to run through places like this! The Seneca Greenway and Muddy Branch trails are filled with beautiful sights, and I was reminded that sometimes we get so caught up in the difficulty of the journey that we forget to appreciate what's right in front of us.
Something else I noticed throughout the day was how often the terrain seemed to change just when I needed it most. Whenever I started getting frustrated with the hills, or my feet were hurting so badly that I wondered how much longer I could continue, the course would eventually open up into a flatter section of road, soft grass, or relatively smooth dirt. And I was SO grateful. It was almost as if God was reminding me that the difficult stretches aren't permanent. Sometimes you just have to keep moving forward until the terrain changes. I also found myself reciting the 23rd Psalm while running through a green pasture alongside still waters. There's something pretty special about experiencing God's creation in that setting while reflecting on those familiar words. What a wonderful reminder of His presence and provision.
Of course, not every memorable moment was quite so spiritual. At one of the small aid stations around mile 31, a woman offered me a shot of Fireball. Given how much pain I was experiencing, I almost took it! I politely declined though, opting for water before I continued down the trail, and promptly took one of the most spectacular spills of the day after catching my foot on a root. Ouch!
Missing My Girls
One of the harder parts of the day was being away from Sarah and Abby. I missed them terribly.
There were several moments throughout the race when I thought about how much I'd rather be spending the day with them. At one of the larger aid stations, I saw a runner being supported by his family, and it really hit home. After finishing, I had the opportunity to meet a runner named Tyler from Loudoun County, along with his wife and their four children. I absolutely loved seeing how they had made the race a family affair. His wife had been shuttling all four children around the course, including three who were around Abby's age and a newborn, so they could support him and celebrate his accomplishment. What a wonderful thing to experience together! Seeing them all reminded me just how special it is to have your family involved in things you love.
The Finish Line
After nearly 11 hours on the trails, I finally made my way back to Stedwick Elementary. I crossed the finish line just before 5:00 PM with an official time of 10:56:33, finishing 75th out of 188 runners. Not a particularly spectacular time, but a finish I was incredibly happy to earn!
And there was something else waiting for me back at the school: Chipotle.
Yes, Chipotle.
It might sound silly, but Chipotle is genuinely one of my favorite restaurants, and the promise of a big bowl of Chipotle at the finish line was a pretty powerful motivator throughout the day. I actually had Chipotle as my post-race victory meal after the 2024 New York City Marathon, despite having access to all sorts of fancy restaurants in Manhattan. I've also made a habit of stopping at Chipotle with coworkers when we're traveling for business and getting tired of the usual corporate wining and dining. I'm a simple man who knows what he likes. And after 50 miles, that bowl of Chipotle was AMAZING!
What's Next?
Surprisingly, this race was actually my FIRST official 50-mile race finish! I've completed 50Ks, 100Ks, and two 100-mile races, but the only other 50-miler I've attempted was the Zane Grey 50-miler a few years ago, where I unfortunately broke my foot. So I've been thinking quite a bit about the distance and what it means for my running goals moving forward.
Interestingly, I think 50 miles might be my new favorite race distance. It's an enormous physical and mental challenge, but being able to finish around suppertime, just before dark, is really appealing. With a 100K, I'm typically finishing late in the evening. And with a 100-miler, I'm running overnight, without sleep, and into the wee hours of the morning. Those extra hours of darkness and fatigue make an already difficult experience considerably harder. Fifty miles seems to offer a really nice balance.
Immediately after finishing Stone Mill, I was pretty convinced that I'd had enough of ultrarunning for a while. My feet were hurting, my body was exhausted, and I couldn't imagine running another step. I also started questioning whether pursuing the C&O 100-miler next spring, which I'd previously identified as a potential Western States qualifier, was really a good idea. We have a lot going on as a family and some big plans for 2027. Training for another 100-miler would require a significant investment of time and energy, and I want to make sure that any ambitious running goals fit appropriately into our family priorities. There's also the reality of my current training. Before Abby was born, I was regularly running 70–80-mile weeks. These days, finding the time to run 40 miles in a week can be a challenge! On the other hand, there are a few things working in my favor. After decades of doing this, I'm REALLY good at waking up super early and getting my runs in before the rest of the house wakes up. We also have a sweet gym at my new office, a nice treadmill at home, and I'm continuing to get better at my job and more efficient with my time. Perhaps there's a way to make it work without sacrificing the things that matter most.
I have a wonderful life. A beautiful home, a great job, a loving wife and daughter, and so many blessings that I'm incredibly grateful for. But there's something about stepping away from the comforts and conveniences of everyday life and spending 11, 20, or even 30 hours out in the wilderness every now and then that I find tremendously rewarding.
Ultrarunning strips things down to the essentials. There are no meetings, emails, deadlines, or distractions. No comfortable bed, hot shower, or easy way out. Eventually, it's just you, your body, your mind, your faith, and the next step in front of you. And there's something beautiful about that.
There's glory in the suffering.
Not because suffering is inherently good, or because physical accomplishments somehow make us better people, but because voluntarily stepping outside our comfort zones can reveal things that we might never discover otherwise. It forces us to confront our limitations, acknowledge our dependence on something greater than ourselves, and recognize that we don't have to rely exclusively on our own strength. I heard a saying recently that captures this:
"Every hard thing you choose on purpose makes the hard things you don't choose easier to survive."
I think there's a lot of truth to that. Ultrarunning forces me to embrace discomfort, develop discipline, and persevere when things get difficult. Those lessons don't stay out on the trails. They carry over into everyday life and help prepare us for the challenges and hardships we don't get to choose. And for me, ultrarunning provides a unique opportunity to draw closer to God. Praying for strength while climbing a seemingly endless hill, reciting Scripture while running through a beautiful meadow, or simply stopping to appreciate the breathtaking beauty of His creation is an incredibly powerful experience. The physical suffering and the beauty of it somehow coexist, and I find that combination extremely fulfilling.
I'm not ready to make any decisions about the C&O 100 or my longer-term Western States ambitions just yet. For now, I'm perfectly content to put those decisions aside and enjoy the time ahead with my family. We're looking forward to a really fun holiday season, with plenty of things planned together, and that's where my focus belongs right now. I'll revisit the ultrarunning goals after the holidays, presumably in the New Year. The C&O 100 registration opens January 1, so I won't have long to deliberate! In the meantime, I'm absolutely committed to continuing my journey to run a marathon in all 50 states. Newport was state number 10, and I have another 40 to go! There are so many beautiful places to explore, races to experience, and opportunities to combine running with family travel and new adventures. Whether the next finish line is 26.2, 50, or 100 miles away, I'm looking forward to seeing where the journey takes me.
Final Thoughts
The Stone Mill 50 Miler wasn't an easy day. There were stretches when I was hurting, frustrated, questioning my decisions, and genuinely tempted to quit. But there was also gorgeous scenery, wonderful people, delicious food, some much-needed time for prayer and reflection, and the satisfaction of accomplishing something that wasn't easy.
I was reminded that one person's opinion doesn't define me, that my identity and purpose are rooted in something much greater than the opinions of others, and that I shouldn't allow the frustrations of everyday life to steal the joy that God has given me. I was also reminded that the Lord is present in the difficult stretches, not just the easy ones. Sometimes He gives us the strength to keep climbing the hill. Other times, He simply changes the terrain and reminds us to look around and appreciate the beauty along the way. And perhaps most importantly, I was reminded that the race I'm running in life is about considerably more than the number of miles I can cover.
I'm incredibly thankful for the opportunity to run 50 miles, for the volunteers and organizers who made the Stone Mill race such a wonderful experience, for the friends and coworkers who followed along and encouraged me, and especially for Sarah and Abby, who make coming home at the end of the day so worthwhile. I'm also thankful for the opportunity to step away from the noise of everyday life, spend some time in God's creation, and remember what really matters.
50 miles down. 40 states to go. And plenty of adventures still ahead!
