I started at 6:00:00 AM, and finished the last trail at 6:26:45 PM
I began my morning at 4:30, waking up in the back of my car to prepare for the day. I drove to the base of the Washington Cog and completed my final preparations, ensuring I had 1,000ml of water, my hiking poles, and my Garmin inreach
My hike officially commenced at precisely 6:00 AM. The initial part of the Cog trail was relatively easy as it gradually became steeper. I realized I was wearing too many layers, making it uncomfortably hot, but I persevered nonetheless. About a mile from the summit, it began to snow, which slowed me down a bit but didn't have a significant impact. My goal was to reach the summit by 1:45, and I managed to achieve it at 1:37, which thrilled me. Given the worsening snowfall, I only took a couple of pictures before starting my descent.
The first mile down required careful foot placement due to the snow, but beyond that point, no additional snow had accumulated, allowing me to increase my pace. I reached my car at 2:32. Swiftly, I stripped down, got into my car, and drove away by 2:35.
My drive to Mansfield was plagued by traffic, which heightened my anxiety and stress. I arrived at the trailhead at 5:05, intending to ascend and descend Hellsbrook. Many experienced Vermont hikers had recommended it, though they also cautioned that it was a challenging route. The trail had been drenched all day from the rain, and by the time I started, it had turned into a slippery mess. It comprised approximately 1.5 miles of steep boulders with water flowing over them, essentially resembling a mile and a half-long slip 'n slide. My uphill progress was slow and grueling. I had to focus on surmounting one boulder at a time, as my goal of reaching the summit within an hour had become nearly impossible.
I eventually reached the summit at 6:45 and began my descent. I decided to alter my descent route, initially descending Longs and then taking the Hellsbrook cutoff to hopefully avoid the treacherous watery slide. It turned out to be a good decision, and I picked up my pace, reaching the bottom around 7:50.
The subsequent drive from Mansfield to Greylock was marked by my high anxiety and overstimulation from the HellBrook trail, causing me to drive in silence for the entire 3 hours and 15 minutes. I constantly ran calculations in my head, determining the splits I needed, the speed required to ascend Greylock, and the pace for the descent.
As I neared the Greylock trailhead, my adrenaline surged. I was aware that breaking the record was hinging on conquering one last mountain, approximately 4.5 miles ahead of me. I decided to give it everything I had.
I arrived in the parking lot at 11:05. I had 4 hours and 32 minutes to break the male record and only 1 hour and 24 minutes to break the overall record. The moment I parked, I jumped out of my car and hit the trail at a brisk pace. The initial section of the trail was relatively smooth, with a manageable incline. I covered the first mile in 18:27, ascending 653 feet of the total 2,247-foot elevation gain.
The next mile was critical. If I could achieve a sub-26-minute mile while climbing the 1,400-foot ski slope, I had a chance at the overall record. I pushed myself relentlessly, despite the screaming muscles and warning signals. Upon reaching the summit of the ski slope, I glanced at my watch and saw the time: 29:36. It was too slow, well below what was needed for the overall record. I knew I had secured the male record, and I could have leisurely descended the mountain, taken numerous pictures, and even called my mom, yet the desire to break the overall record nagged at me.
I stood atop Greylock at 12:02 and understood the implications of my time. I had 25 minutes to descend, equivalent to maintaining a 12:05-minute mile on a 20.5-degree slope. It seemed reckless, a pace I had never attempted.
I was acutely aware of the challenge awaiting me on the 25-minute descent. I would have to record the 7th fastest descent of Greylock ever, on a route I had never descended before, after more than six hours of hiking across three states with 5 hours and 45 minutes of driving in between. I realized that this might be my one chance to accomplish it, so I decided to give it my all. I tucked my hiking poles into my running vest and began sprinting downhill, continually performing calculations in my head.
"Okay, the first mile down will be the toughest. As long as you can manage a 13-minute mile, you can do 12 minutes for the last 1.2 miles and break the record."
I completed the first mile in 14 minutes flat. With just 1.2 miles left and 11 minutes on the clock, I pushed myself even harder. Despite cramping up and appearing somewhat frantic to onlookers, I continued sprinting down the mountain.
My watch buzzed when I hit the 2-mile mark with 0.2 miles to go. I checked my split: a 9:01 mile. Suddenly, what seemed impossible at the summit of Greylock was becoming a reality. With the second mile behind me, I had only 1/5th of a mile to go, so I poured everything I had into it. I reached the parking lot, stopped my Strava and sat phone, and saw the time: 12:26:45.
I had beaten the male record by 3 hours, 10 minutes, and 15 seconds, and I had broken the overall record by 2 minutes and 15 seconds.
It was an exceptionally successful day.