S.C.A.R. Fastest Known Time: Lea Mulligan

 

A unique sort of magic exists in Southern Appalachia. Enchantment comes from the gnarly roots and moss-lined rocks, the foggy ridgelines, and the rich smell of pine trees dotting the tops of summits. S.C.A.R or Smoky Challenge Adventure Run is the crown jewel route of this area and touches upon 70 miles of the most remote peaks in Smoky Mountain National Park. The entire route encompasses the Appalachian Trail section through the park and includes over 18,000 feet of ascending and descending on technical terrain. This route has been on my bucket list since the moment I became an ultra-runner. Recently, the desire to complete this section of trail shifted to a desire to claim the Fastest Known Time (FKT). 

 

 

Nothing ever goes 100% as planned in this sport, and I got a foot injury in December that had me pushing my dreams of chasing SCAR back to April. When I was back to running the majority of my training was on Lookout Mountain in Chattanooga, TN chasing every single hilly route imaginable. The only way SCAR was going to be possible for me was if I got my quads used to bombing down thousands of feet in a singular run. I pride myself on being an excellent downhill runner and get the most joy out of this sport by bombing down the most technical, steep terrain. I knew that if I could keep my body from falling apart, downhills would be my biggest strength. 

 

Along with proper fueling my main hurdle was what shoe to wear along the route. La Sportiva had just released the Prodigio, and I was really interested, but hesitant, in using it for the FKT due to my lack of time in it. The first run I took in the Prodigio was a 2-hour test run on the Appalachian Trail. I instantly fell in love with it. My foot had been hurting for months, and it was practically pain free in the secure grip of the Prodigio. I tested out the shoe on several “bombing tests” downhill and felt perfectly comfortable leaping over sharp rocks and balancing on the variety of debris covering the trail. This small trip convinced me that I should take a gamble and use the Prodigio as my shoe for the full 70 miles. 

 

Preparing for an FKT is an entirely different mental experience than prepping for a race, and my nerves were all over the place the week leading into my SCAR attempt. I have always wanted to keep the mindset that finishing any ultra-distance is a huge success for me, but my normal mindset was not quite working for me. I knew deep down that I was going to be disappointed if I finished the 70 miles and did not end up with the FKT. This route means a lot to me, and a finish was no longer going to be good enough to fulfill my aspirations. 

 

 

The night before my FKT attempt was a bit of a train wreck. It started off well with Mike, my fiancé, and me loading all of our gear into the car to drive to a small airstream near Davenport Gap. I double checked several times to make sure that I had my poles, pack and quiver, and my pair of Prodigios. Everything was in place, and we successfully made it to our home for the evening. My stomach was full of butterflies for the entire course of the drive, and those nerves multiplied when I saw on Facebook that another woman was going for the FKT attempt on the same day going NOBO instead of SOBO. We had unintentionally created a SCAR death match. Mike told me to channel those nerves into fuel for the fire, and I tried to focus on relaxing during dinner and our time before bed. 

 

Unfortunately, our AirBnB had a loose tarp flap outside that clanged against the metal roof and sounded like someone knocking on the airstream door every few minutes. I tossed and turned listening to the frustrating sound until about 3 am and promptly rolled over to tell Mike that I didn’t think I was going to do SCAR anymore… I was too stressed, too tired, and too overwhelmed by life in general. He gave me the best response: that I could do anything that I wanted. He knew me well enough to know that I was not going to take the easy option and go home. Sometimes, the hardest part of an endurance event is getting to the starting line, and this was the final challenge that I had to overcome to reach the peace that comes alongside that first footfall into the dark. 

 

I slept until my alarm went off at 4:15. My stomach was in knots and I forced down some cold brew and a few bites of a scone. Mike would be joining me for the first 30 miles to Newfound, and my friend Will planned on joining me for the final 40 to Fontana Dam. Both of them were incredibly generous and carried extra water and filters to save time. 

 

I started at 5:24 am to the sound of birds chirping and a gentle breeze. I plunged into the predawn darkness with Mike, prepared to savor one last adventure with him before our wedding in a month. Instantly, all of my stress melted away, and I started smiling and singing as we shuffled up the first 3,000-foot ascent to the ridgeline near Mt. Cammerer. One of the best parts of these long efforts is that every worry in life leaves to be replaced by the singular focus of reaching the end of the run. My brain switched over into a deep concentration of keeping my breathing easy, slurping a gel every 30 minutes, and cranking some music to bomb down every hill in sight. My strategy was to run as many of the ups as possible, lean into my poles on the steeper grades, and run down hard while keeping my effort manageable. 

 

 

This strategy worked brilliantly for me as I flew down the first ridgeline into the glorious pink of the sunrise. Mike and I methodically ticked off silent miles along the various peaks as we both concentrated on pushing the pace and keeping ourselves upright on the technical trail. As we got close to Newfound Gap, I started to get nervous when I realized that we had run a 6:25 first 50K. This was way faster than I had planned on running the first section, but I had been running on feel the entire time and decided to trust myself and the synergy I have with my body. 

 

My mom was crew chief for the day and made sure I had lots of snack options laid out for me. She asked me if I wanted to change clothes or shoes, but my Prodigios and Slipstream Tank remained comfortable. I spent approximately 5 minutes eating watermelon and ramen before heading towards Clingman’s Dome, the 3rd highest point East of the Mississippi, with Will. We had a blast chatting through the entire Clingman’s climb, and I was starting to feel really hopeful about a fast time when we got to Clingman’s Dome at 8 hours and 30 minutes. Mike and my mom met me one last time at Clingmans, and I rushed to give them excited hugs before booking it down a steep hill towards the last 50K of SCAR. 

 

Up to this point I hadn’t really had any low points, I had stayed meticulously on my nutrition plan, and my brain had stayed engaged for the entire journey so far. I was, however , starting to feel a little sleepy, what with the poor sleep and 4:15 am wake up but a few caffeinated gels helped tremendously. The 2nd half of the route was net downhill, and I could feel the miles passing quickly until we started to get close to Rocky Top. 

 

The climb up to Rocky Top feels endless. Constant false summits where I thought I was nearing the top, only to plunge back down to another stretch of ridgeline. All the climbing ended up worth it because it resulted in my favorite moment of the day alongside a moment of intense clarity. The fog started clearing out around Rocky Top, and I was met with incredible sweeping views of the Smokies. I checked my watch and realized that I had 5 hours left to break the FKT with 16 miles to go. My brain quickly whirled through the math, like it had done many times before in the day, and I realized that I was so close to achieving my months’ long goal. 

 

The remaining 16 miles were possibly the most joyful miles of my entire life. I turned on my favorite pop anthems to careen down Rocky Top and chose to push as hard as I could on the next downhills to see how fast I could get to the end. Along this descent we struggled to find water and I credit a lot of success to Will after he sacrificed the rest of his water to me and split off to search for more to filter. 

 

There is something to be said for finishing a journey you have dreamed of for years solo. All of the pieces fell together for me to spend several hours reflecting on all of the stress of planning the route, overwhelming moments at work, and ridiculous amounts of wedding planning that had to be overcome to get to that moment. I laughed as I realized that once I got the FKT, I finally got to relax. The wedding was going to come together, my job was going to work itself out, and I got to achieve something special in the sport that will remain my biggest passion. Ultrarunning brings a lot of moving pieces to my life, but tiny moments like the clarity I felt during those last few miles make it all worth it. 

 

Mike and my friend Skyler linked up with 2 miles to go, and I was thrilled to hear that it was all runnable downhill to get to the finish. I rallied to push hard for those last miles, and my legs miraculously found turnover again. I blasted music for the last road section, maintaining a 6:30 min/mile pace onto the dam. 

 

My first priority at the finish was stopping my watch followed quickly by bending over to gasp for breath. Final time: 15:22:23, beating the previous FKT by over 2 hours. I have never had a more magical day of running. This route solidified a belief in myself, a deeper appreciation for the Appalachian Trail, and a rich love for the friends who are willing to pour out so much to help me achieve my goals. This FKT attempt would not have been possible without my friends and my love for the wildness of Appalachia. The running community is full of so many passionate, giving individuals, and I hope I can inspire more women to give this epic route a shot.