Badwater 2010


The Experience

Wow. I don’t know where to start. Running Badwater was the most amazing outdoor experience of my life. I’ve run rivers, I skied big mountains, I’ve snowboarded big peaks in Alaska. It all pales in comparison. I’ve always lived by the motto “collect experiences, not things”. This is truly one of the best experiences of my life. Suffice it to say that when this story is written, it will probably not sufficiently convey the overwhelming joy, satisfaction and emotion that I experienced out there.

My crew was fantastic. They were always on top of the situation. They knew when to keep me in the know, and when to not tell me what I didn’t need to know. Apparently, the van would not start at one point. I’m very glad that I was never informed of it until the finish. My crew consisted of five people, then later six!

Crew Chief was my good friend Scooter Jones. He was, as always, an incredibly giving source of inspiration. He is also a massage therapist, and former Paramedic/ EMT. The medical side wasn’t necessary. But, the CMT skills were invaluable to stay loosened up. He is a always a ray of sunshine and a source of amazing positive energy.

Other crew members include Mandy Miller, who I had only met briefly at Rocky Raccoon, in February and have known through email conversations. Mandy was a great pacer. She seemed to know just when to keep me going in conversation and when to just let me keep moving quietly. She lit a great fire under me, encouraging me to catch the “Pinklings” (Team Moeben).

Brian Harvey was a crew member who I had never met before the race. Brain turned out to be one of my favorite people of the whole experience. He is amazingly positive and motivating. I felt like it was the start of a new race, whenever he came out to pace. He would pump me up, telling me how well I had done the previous section and what I should be shooting for over the next section.

Heath Johnson and Stephanie Day came to the crew as a couple. I have known Stephanie for a few years, as we have run into each other at several races and spent several hours running together and talking. She would regale me with stories for long periods of time and keep it light with a great sense of humor. Heath was great, too. He was great as a pacer and always on the ball, handing off supplies. Heath is also a great source of levity, cracking jokes all the time.

My final crew member was my wife, Paige. Her duty was to man the home front, with my daughter. As you will see later, there was a small problem with this plan. Suffice it to say that she put up with a lot. My mind was often in the desert and not always focused for the weeks leading up to the race. She was very patient with me.




The Race

The race events began the day before. We had attended the race meeting. It was sweltering hot in the auditorium. The AC was on. But, in a matter of minutes, the 500 people in there had simply overwhelmed it. After an hour, I went outside to use the bathroom. The 120 outside temps felt absolutely cooling after the stifling heat and humidity inside. We had a crew meeting. Really, we had a crew meeting all day. Everyone really wanted to do the best they possibly could to help me. It was fantastic. But, after an entire day of questions, I was mentally fried. We had dinner at the restaurant and then retired to our rooms. By 9:30, I was in bed fast asleep. Sadly, I woke up at 11:20 pm. I laid there for the rest of the night, thinking about how badly I really needed a good night’s sleep. It never came. It was not an ideal way to start a race that would likely last for two days.

At 7:30 am, we rolled to the start line at Badwater. It was electric. Everybody was pumped up, crews, runners, race officials. We snapped a group picture at the Badwater sign and a young woman sang the National Anthem, amazingly well, I might add. At 8:00, we were off! I started very slowly at a jog. I mixed in some walking every 5-10 minutes. This was going to be a very long race and I had no business going out like a shot. My main strategy was to keep as cool as possible and keep myself healthy and hydrated. I planned to be at Furnace Creek (mile 17) around 3:30-4:00 hours. I made it in exactly four hours. Next up, the Highway To Hell, 25 miles to Stovepipe Wells, in the hottest part of the day. The temp at Furnace Creek was near 118. It was noon.

The next section is where I began with my pacers. One of the crew would come out and run with me for a few miles, then switch off with another. Our basic plan was for me to drink a 20 oz. bottle of water (heavily iced) every mile. This equated to about every 15 minutes. I was taking an S!cap (electrolyte capsule) every 30 minutes. When I was weighed, I was always within 1-1.5 pounds of my starting weight. This indicated that hydration and electrolytes were perfectly balanced. As the heat really started to bake, my crew would place an ice bandana around my neck, sometimes a fresh one every mile. The other thing that helped to keep cool was misting with a sprayer. But, the really big thing was to drape a wet scarf around my head. I was given a large piece of wicking fabric at racer check-in, by the girls at Moeben. It was about 18” wide and 6 feet long. The crew would stick it in a bag of ice water, then wring it out and drape it around my head and shoulders. It made HUGE difference in how cool I felt. The temperature definitely topped 120 on the first day. One person from another crew said he saw 131 degrees. I don’t have any verification. But, it was damn hot!

All went well until around the sand dunes at mile 36. I had turned the corner and the wind was now coming from the side and in front. I suddenly started feeling very over heated. I spent a few minutes (maybe more like 20?) sitting down in the shade of the van and trying to cool down. It took a few stops over the miles, but I managed to get comfortable again. I made it to Stovepipe Wells (mile 42) around 11:30 into the race. That was about an hour slower than I had hoped. And I think I lost that whole hour from mile 36 on. On arriving, I changed into my swim trunks and jumped in the pool. Sweet relief!

When we left Stovepipe eating an ice cream sandwich. It was after 8:00 pm, 12 hours into the race and the sun had set. It was 112 degrees and the wind was head on at about 20 miles per hour. It was brutally drying. I had to constantly shoot small amounts of water in my mouth and down my throat, just to keep it moist. Ahead lay 17 miles of climbing to the top of Townes Pass. I was not running, but walking this section. I was apparently walking well, as I passed about 10-12 runners during the climb. It took seven hours to cover that 17 miles. Uggh! How can such a seemingly brisk walking pace be so slow? I reached the top of the pass and sat for a few minutes and tried to sleep, to no avail. I had also tried at mile 47 also, but sleep would not come. How could I be on two hours of sleep in the last 40 hours and not sleep?

Next up, 13 miles across the Panamint Valley to Panamint Springs at mile 72. The first 9 miles were all downhill. Brian and I started running down. It was wonderful for a few miles. Then, the grade got so steep it was difficult to run without having to brake every step. I didn’t want to push my legs so hard, so early in the race. So, we kept a quick walk. At times, it was so steep, it even was difficult to walk without really working the quads. By 7:23 am, we had reached Panamint Springs. I sat in a chair and had some food, while the crews changed shift. 23 hours to cover 72 miles was an absolutely pathetic pace. But, physically I was in good shape. No aches, a few pains, but generally good. I think that a severe lack of sleep was probably what led to my very slow pace.

Stephanie came with me to start the climb up to Father Crowley point. The initial climb is about 8 miles, gaining over 4,000 feet of elevation. The climb was steep, but the views back down the course were spectacular! We again passed a few runners. This was Stephanie’s hill. She would not give up pacing duties until I reached the top of the major climb. We moved well, at a brisk walk. The road was very narrow, with almost no shoulder. There were a few tense moments, as huge tour buses would come around a blind corner. With a guard rail on one side, there was no where else to go. Things went well and the day heated up again. Around mile 82, I had a serious case of heat and sleep deprivation hit me. I came to the van, sort of semi-babbling. “I need shade. Is the van cool? Is there a breeze in there? I need ice! I’m really tired” Scooter put my calves on ice and I laid down in the van, with my legs elevated. I tried again to sleep. After 15 minutes, I heard Scooter snoring. Damn, why can he sleep and not me? I sat up and ate an orange and drank a big bottle of ice water. I was good. It was time to go. I went for another couple of hours to the mile 90 check point, arriving at 2:14 pm.

The next section was downhill, for 32 miles. It was time to get some good running in. Rock star Brian came out to pace a good portion of this section. We started moving well, again. He afternoon was hot, but very tolerable compared to the heat of the valley the day before. I would guess it was around 105-110. Occasional clouds really helped. Between Brian’s coaxing and Mandy being determined to catch the Pinklings (Team Moeben), I made some reasonably good time over the next 10 miles. Then came the shocker of the trip. I looked up as I approached the van around mile 105. My mind couldn’t connect the dots. There was someone who REALLY looked like my wife. But no, Paige was at home. Wait, that’s the shirt that my wife always wears. No, it must be some other runner wearing a shirt form that race. NO…no. That’s Paige! My wife was there, running across the road to me! What an amazing surprise! She had been planning it for a few weeks. She took a flight to LA, rented a car and drove up to meet me and the crew. I was buzzing for the next 10 miles! She took turns with the others running with me, as we headed toward Lone Pine at mile 122.

The early evening was great. I was really enjoying talking with all of the crew, as they came out and took turns running and walking with me. I probably got complacent and just kept walking much of the time, when I could have been running. But, I was just having such a good time! Scooter came out with me for the last two miles into Lone Pine. Scooter is not a runner. But, it sure was nice to be out with him. During the entire race, he never once left the van, faithful and dedicated Crew Chief that he was. He also provided excellent quick tune ups with massage, whenever my legs would tighten up. We cruised into Lone Pine , arriving at around 1:30 am. A chair, a chicken sandwich, a Coke and a little foot massage. Ahhhhh!

So, here we sit in Lone Pine. It’s 1:30 am, I’ve got a brutal 13 mile climb to go, covering around 5,000 feet of climb. I’ve got 6 ½ hours to get under 48 hours and get a buckle. I vow that the RD will NOT put my buckle in a box for next year. Off we go! As we leave town, I see a runner ahead. He is listing badly to one side. I’ve seen it before. The body just gets out of alignment and they tilt to one side. It was Art Webb. This will be Art’s 13th finish at Badwater. I believe he is in his late 60’s. The man is made of steel! I decide that we will pass him. Time to pick up a couple of places. We go by, and I wish him well and congratulate him. The problem is, he doesn’t know that I’m feeling better than him and that he should be behind me. In a few miles, he’s ahead again and stays there. Geez, these old guys are tough! He pretty much kicked my butt on that ill, lean and all.

That hill was brutal! Just when I thought we were through the toughest part of the climb, we hit the switch backs. They were even steeper. There were times when each step was like lifting up to climb a stair. I hit the 131 mile mark, as I pased Dan Marinsik. Dan is a multiple finisher at Badwater. He was having a rough go, but was not stopping. I may have been moving slow, but I was in some great company. I was feeling very humbled and honored to be climbing to the finish with the likes of these two.

The final miles, the sun was starting to rise behind the mountains to the east, behind the mountains I had just run across. Three huge valleys separated me from the start. This was my third sunrise since the race had begun. It had been long, but it had been an unbelievable adventure. There was some confusion with the mileage near the end. At one point, it was 1.5 miles to go. Yes! Then, it was two miles to go. WTF?! My wife tried to tell me, “It’s really just…” I cut her off. “Nobody tell me how far anything is. I don’t want to know. I’m just going.” I was fried. Mentally, I was just incapable of anything but going forward. I was literally on the verge of tears for the last mile or two. All I could do was to bite my lip and move. Just move, damn it! The mountain was incredible. The huge granite slabs were towering over us. I noticed. I tried to appreciate. But, I had to focus forward. Finally, the finish was there! I made sure that my crew was there with me. But, at the last minute, I surged forward ahead of them. I really wanted to cross simultaneously. I could never have gotten there without all the help of everyone who was there with me. But, I just couldn’t take it. I had to be done!

I crossed the line and practically collapsed on my wife’s shoulder. I was wasted. I could not hold back. I sobbed on her shoulder out of relief, out of gratefulness, out of a sense that it was over. Although it was a long standing dream for many years, it was a huge relief to be done, to not have to think about the race, water, time, anymore. We gathered everyone together for the obligatory photos. I got a big, shiny belt buckle. I embraced each of my crew and thanked them as best I could, trying hard not to burst into tears. Again.



The Aftermath

Once again, I have to give so many thanks to my crew: Scooter Jones, Brian Harvey, Mandy Miller, Heath Johnson, Stephanie Day and my fantastic wife, Paige. People overuse the phrase ‘couldn’t have done it without you’. But, in this case, it is completely true. I am so humbled that these people would come out to this desolate, unbelievably hot, forbidding place and give several days of their time, and spend their own money traveling there, to help someone who was, to most, a stranger. I am eternally grateful to all of them.

Several days have passed now. I am still just overwhelmed with what a fantastic, unbelievable, almost surreal experience it was. Scooter described it as being “one long National Geographic moment.” I would have to agree. I simply can not find adequate words to describe what an amazing, fulfilling experience it was to run Badwater. I’ve always lived by the motto, “collect experiences, not things”. This was, by far, one of the best experiences of my life.