I ran the Heartland 100 last week,for the second time. In 2007, it was my first 100 miler and first finish. This time, it was my 4th attempt at 100 miles, and second finish! My report is below. Warning; it's long!
Heartland is a great race. The atmosphere is pretty low-key. The people are very friendly. There is certainly a small town feel to this race, which takes place near Cassoday, Ks (pop. 100). Heartland was my first attempt at 100 miles, in 2007. I completed it in 29:22, after walking in the last 35 miles, due to pain in my knee when running. However, I could walk with no pain. So, I walked. It was a finish. But, I wanted to know how much better I could have done, had I been able to run throughout the race.
My race history for 2008 has been pretty spotty. I had a good run at Rocky Raccoon 50, finishing in 10:20 for a substantial PR at the distance. In March, I ran 65 miles in the 24 Hours of Moab. But, I had quit at 11:00 pm, with about 8 hours to go. I wasn't really sure why. I just wasn't feeling motivated. The next morning, I came down with a really nasty stomach bug. In retrospect, I was very glad I hadn't continued to run all night.
In June, I ran the Kettle Moraine 100. After some of the worst weather I've ever experienced outdoors, I dropped at 62 miles. I found myself very regretful of that decision. The next day, I felt great. I had a lot more left in me. So, after pacing at Badwater in July, I signed up for the Leadville 100.
Now, I knew that Leadville is the race that eats its young. I knew that my chances were probably 50/50 of making the cutoffs and finishing. But, I felt like I had to get a monkey off my back. My race went great through Twin Lakes. I was a bit behind my schedule, but ahead of the cutoffs. Then, Hope Pass reared its ugly head. I was fueled, I was hydrated, I had energy. Then, the wheels just fell off. I slowed to a crawl. I made it to the 50 mile turnaround at Winfield. But, I was 20 miuntes too late. I got pulled for time. But, I did give it all that I could. It felt better to be pulled for time. At least I didn't have to wrestle with my own decision to quit. Thus, my resolve to go to Heartland and finish was sealed.
My family and I spent 2 days driving to Wichita, seeing the sights (and smelling the feedlots) and enjoying being away from some of the recent stresses at home. We arrived at Cassoday on Friday for the pre-race meeting and dinner at 4:00. Dinner was very good. There was bbq beef, chicken, pasta, salad and a few other choices. My favorite: blackberry cobbler! We made an early break to get ready for the race and an early bed time. I slept pretty well. I think I'm starting to realize that worrying and thinking too much before a race just gets me nervous and causes me stomach distress. Staying in the moment seems to really help to alleviate the problem. At 6:00, myself and 99 other runners took off from the old school house, headed for the open prarie. I tried to maintain a good, easy effort pace.
The first 16.8 miles, to Lapland AS went by in 3:22. A good pace for me. I met my wife and daughter, had some chocolate milk (one of my new favorites) and headed out. One of my goals for this race was to spend far less time in aid stations. I figured I had lost 2 hours lat year at various aid stations. Eleven aid stations with your family can really wreak havoc with your overall time. This time, my wife said "I think the only other thing to do is tell you to get outta here". And I was off. I hit the Teterville station at 11:00. 12 min/mile pace, including stops. This was great time for me.
I reached Ridgeline (mile 36.5) at 7:38. I couldn't wait to eat some Prarie Power Pellets. They're sort of like Beanie Weenie, but with 15 kinds of beans. Fantastic! I told the cook I'd be back for more. At Matfield (mile 42.8), they offered me a bratwurst. It sounded so good. But, I decided to eat light and save up for the return, which would be around dinner time. I thought about that brat for 15 miles! My goal was to make the turnaround under 11 hours. I knew that 10-10 1/2 hours would probably be too fast. I wanted to be able to run throughout the entire race. I did NOT want to have to walk in the last miles, like last year. I hit the 50 mile turn at 10:50, right on plan. I spent 5 minutes getting fluids, eating a few oranges and some chicken noodle soup. I really wanted the sloppy joes, but I had a schedule to keep. Here, I ran into Abi, from the UltraList. She looked strong and had arrived before me. I left first, thinking about the next 7.5 miles, and a delicious brat.
I returned to Matfield (mile 57.4) in a total time of 12:43. I spent 17 minutes eating a brat, some oranges and a choco milk. Next stop: Ridgeline and Prarie Pellets. I found that the different foods that were offered really helped my appetite and my overall mood. After a few hours, I just can't look at another M&M, or boiled potato. But, all the varied options were just great. I also found that eating orange slices wherever I could really upped my energy level. My food plan for the race was to eat about 300 calories at every AS (about every 7-10 miles) and snack a little on the run. This race was the best I've ever had, in terms of fueling and consistent energy level. I didn't really hit any kind of wall until around mile 65. Typically, it would start around mile 16-20 and cycle up and down.
I met up with another runner on this section. We would walk/ run together, and leapfrog for most of the rest of the race. Shira was running her first 100. It made me so happy to think back to last year's race, and my first 100 mile experience. I was really happy for her. She was having some trouble with leg pain when she ran. I told her how I had walked in the last 35 miles and finished. We were well ahead of my pace from last year. I assured her that as long as she could walk, she would have no trouble finishing, if she just kept moving forward. We walked/ran into Ridgeline and another serving of Power Pellets at around 14:35. My big goal for this race was to finish under 24 hours. I knew it was a stretch, and I would have been very excited to break 25 hours. On the next stretch, I felt like my goals were slipping away. Technically, I was on pace. But, I knew I would have a slow down during the dark. Sure enough, on this section I was slowing to 17-18 minute miles. I took a NoDoz at 9:00pm, knowing that I had almost sleepwalked this section last year. It really gave me a jump start. But, essentially it just made my walking pace faster. I started to get a bit depressed at my goal slipping away. I did start to mix in more running.
After a stop at Texaco Hill for some soup, I felt better. I knew there was a nice, long downhill ahead and I was going to run it. I picked up some speed and made it to 75 miles at a time of 18:15. Once again, my wife crewed me and got me out of there in good time. 25 miles in under 7 hours seemed almost impossible. On any given day, while sane and wide awake, this would be easy for me. Hell, it's only 16.2 minutes per mile! I could hike up mountains faster than that. But, at this point in the night, I just didn't think I could keep it up. Then, at some point I had a revelation. I simply decided that I had just had a bad stretch. I had a bad 3 1/2 hours. It didn't mean that I had a bad 7 hours to go. It just meant that I had gone through a bad patch. Like many times before, it would turn around. I had felt great for the first 65 miles. I was having a better run than ever before. And, by golly, I was going to finish. I had done it before. I knew that I was capable. I knew that I was better trained than ever before. Simply keep moving forward. The miles would take care of themselves.
I made Lapland (mile 83.1) at 20:45. I was slow, but I was runnig the downhills and some of the flats. I was dissapointed to find that there were no pancakes this year. Last year, they served bacon and pancakes, and it was like heaven! Instead, I ate something (don't even recall), had some oranges and Dew and hit the road. I ran well for the first mile, mostly downhill and settled into a run/walk pattern. I decided I'd better take some more caffeine, as I was really starting to feel tired and was weaving. I pulled out my last NoDoz, and split it in half. The first 200 mg. pill had made me a bit jumpy, so I thought I'd take half. I also had this crazy idea of sleeping after the finish. If I took a buch of caffeine, I wouldn't be able to sleep at the finish. Big mistake. About 30 minutes after taking it, I just started to lose it. I was looking for places to sit down. I was thinking how nice it would be to just lay down for a nap in the road. At one point, I found a rock to sit on. I hunched over and hung my head. I immediately started to feel light-headed. This was not a place to pass out. I got back up and moved on. Shortly after, I stopped on the side of the road to squat and answer nature's call. Another runner caught up just as I was done. We walked together for a few minutes, which helped to keep us both awake.
Scott was another runner doing his first 100 miler. "Aging triathlete, trying to do the ultra thing" he said. "Older, slow guy trying to finish" I said.
By the time I got to the Battle Creek aid station (mile 91.7) at 23:15, I was trashed. I just wanted to sleep. I was trying to talk the AS folks into letting me sleep for 10 minutes. But, they wouldn't have it. "You've only got 8.3 miles to go" they said. It doesn't matter if I fall asleep in the road and get run over, I thought. Alas, my spirits brightened when they mentioned they had pancakes! Yes, I'll take one! Sadly, she ran out of propane as they were cooking. When she handed it to me, it was sort of limp. I took a bite and it tasted raw. It was all I could do to chew it. But, I knew that my stomach was empty and I needed caffeine. Mt Dew was not going to set well on an empty stomach. So, I ate it as best I could.
I sat in that chair for 30 minutes. It took everything I had just to kep my head upright and to stay awake. The aid station folks were great. Not pushy, but insistent that I had to get up and get moving. He told me that he was going to kick me out at 5:45. I agreed. I had 2 cups of Dew and my last half of NoDoz. Just for good measure, I asked them to fill up my 10 oz. bottle with Dew for the road.
The next 3.6 miles went well. I picked up steam, running and walking. I caught Scott, who had left about 10 minutes before me, and kept going. Once the sun rose, at around 7:15, I caught the lift of the second sun rise. I was trying all day and night to finish before the sun. But, now it was just what I needed. And I couldn't wait for it to arrive.
The last few miles of this course seem very long. The final stretch is almost totally flat. At mile 97, I can see the water tower at the finish. It's so hard to gauge how far it is. I see runners far ahead of me, and I watch for them to make the turn for the tower. Finally, I turn and head north toward Cassoday. The sun is up, although it is cloudy. I have energy. I can run. But it's slow and doesn't seem to be worth the extra effort to save few seconds at the finish. I continue and think about how nice this moment is. I'm going to finish! I'm enjoying a fun vacation with my wife and daughter. I can sleep soon. I'm going to get a matching belt buckle to go with my first one. I just ran a freakin' 100 miles!!!
I hit the final turn on the paved road and start to run the last quarter mile.It feels great to be able to run at this point. My wife comes out to run in the last 100 yards with me. We cross at 26:04. I finish 3:18 ahead of last year, for a personal best.
Epilogue:
I think that my training helped a lot with my performance. I upped my speed in the last year. In the several weeks leading up to the race, I was able to do long, difficult training runs at a consistent 12 min/mile pace. My shorter (8-10 mile) runs were done at 10 min. pace. I felt like I did the first half of this race at a much lower perceived effort. My fueling was great. Having 'real food' at aid stations did wonders for me. It kept me eating and enjoying it. I just can't live on gels and energy drink. Oranges are my new faorite aid station food. Never touched an M&M, Oreo, or potato. Laid off the caffeine until night time. Next time, I'll take another 200 mg. of NoDoz earler, rather than wait for the crash and try to bring myself back.
The hardest part of this race was dealing with sleep deprivetion. My wife was not able to pace me during this race. I thought this would be difficult for me during the night. It turned out, it was OK. In fact, it may have even kept me on my own pace a little better at times. Although, I would certainly welcome a pacer any time. Also, our I-pod took a dump before the race. This was something I had always used during the late hours. But, no problem.
Except for the long stay at Battle Creek, I had good AS times. Having a crew is awesome for helping to get in and out of aid stations. But, I tend to spend too much time there chatting. I did a pretty good job of staying on task this time. The Heartland support folks are top notch! There are many experienced runners working this race. They know just what to do when you need it. And to top it all off, it's a bargain at just over $100.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Rocky Raccoon 50 Mile Race
My wife and I arrived Friday night to run the Rocky Raccoon 50 mile race, in Huntsville, Texas. We arrived at the start around 6:30 a.m., after an early wake up call at 5:00. We checked in and got our goodie bag, with a nice fleece sweatshirt and bib number. It was great to be around the race atmosphere again. Hundreds of runners were milling about. Some quiet, some chatting nervously about their first 50 miler. I was here to try for a decent time at the distance. My PR being a not-so-great 11:49 (basically my first 50, Aug. ‘07), I knew that I had plenty of room for improvement. My wife, Paige, was doing her first 50. Her main goal was to finish and avoid a recurring injury she’d been wrestling with for the last few months, while training for the event.
The weather looked to be perfect, with a high around 70, and a starting temp around 45. Coming from Colorado, it was exciting to have warm weather for running. Something we hadn’t experienced since October. I had run the Huff 50k, in Indiana, over the holidays. Other than that, most of my training was 6-8 miles at a time, with a couple of 12 milers. However, I had a lot of cross training, mostly skiing (telemark style) some great powder days! I knew that being over-trained was not an issue.
The course for the 50 milers is 3 loops. I started with my wife for the first mile or so. She was on a strict 5:1 program, so I went on ahead. I kept my pace pretty comfortable and still passed quite a few runners during the first loop. I was on a 10 -10:30 pace for most of the first half. This was a good clip for me. I didn’t feel too fatigued by it, so I kept it up, walking all of the uphills. It was fun to see the 100 milers coming at us at the Far Side. The 2.9 mile section got kind of crowded the first lap. With around 450 people on the course, it got a bit tight trying to pass and avoid the oncoming traffic. This may be my only complaint about the course layout. Certainly not a major issue, but it sometimes required a lot of concentration on footing and traffic, at the same time. I saw a few other Ultra listers on the course, and introduced myself. I came around to the final stretch toward the Lodge and crossed the mat at 2:55 for my first lap. At 10:47 / mile pace, I was very pleased. I had visions in my head of a sub-10 hour finish. Unfortunately, I had to take a 15 minute stop to change, futz around and tape my foot over a hot spot.
The second lap started well. I was maintaining my previous pace for the first couple miles. But, by the first aid station (20 miles in), it started. I always seem to get a rough patch around this time. It typically starts somewhere between miles 15-20. It seems to last for 4-5 miles. This time, it lasted for 10 miles. The rest of the second loop was just tough. I mentally went through the drill. My hydration was good,. My electrolytes were good. I was taking one S! Cap per hour, about normal. I wondered if the humidity was affecting my sweat rate. I took my next one after 45 minutes. I was still moving pretty well. But, it was requiring much more effort. I kept to my program of eating something at every aid station, with the grab-and-go technique. Bananas and PBJ’s were my food of choice, with some Oreos and animal crackers thrown in for good measure. Not only was I running through the woods all day, just like when I was a kid. I was also eating just like I was a kid.
By the time I got to the Site 174 aid station I was feeling pretty sore. Nothing in particular, just most things below the waist. They had some ibuprofen, so I took two. Within 10 minutes, I was feeling much better. I don’t know if it really took the edge off, or if it was a placebo effect. But, I didn’t care. I was running into the Lodge feeling good again. My second loop split was about 3:45, including the 15 minutes I lost at my drop bag, the first time around. I grabbed snacks, topped off my bladder and went straight out.
I did the math. I figured if my third loop was faster than the second, I might have a shot at going under 10 hours. Something I’d thought about, but considered to be my “fantasy finish time” for this race. I had done a three loop 50k, and had the same experience of a bad second loop, and a big resurgence on the third. So, I was going to push it a little. I wanted the finish first. But, sub-10 would be very sweet! My philosophy with running these races is also three goals, in order: One: no injuries. Two: finish the race. Three: set a good time for myself (totally relative). I’m just not willing to risk pushing too hard for a better time and pay for it for weeks to come, nursing an injury. An experience I’ve endured before.
Shortly after starting the lap, I ran with Ryan Valdez, who puts on the El Scorcho race in Texas. We both felt the same. Tired, but with some fuel still in the tank. We talked and prodded each other along for the next 10 miles, or so. At the Dam Road aid station, he pulled out before I did and I never saw him again until the finish line. He had more in the tank than I did, finishing 10 minutes ahead of me.
The 4.4 miles from Dam Road to Site 174 seemed really long each time around. I kept thinking it was almost done, but it just wouldn’t come. Then, every time I got past it, the last 2.9 miles to the Lodge flew by. I suppose it’s all mental games at work. As usual, it came slowly. I was watching the time. If I could get there in 11 minutes, then turn in 10 minute miles to the finish, I could get in under ten hours. Sadly, I got there in 24 minutes. I realized that there was no way for me to run 2.9 miles in 17 minutes. So, I rethought my goals a little. My PR at 50 miles was 11:49 (DFL, and pretty darn slow). If I got in under 10:19, I could break my PR by an hour and thirty minutes. That was damn respectable. So, I walked the ups, ran the downs, and mixed it up in the flats. As usual, the last section flew by. I saw the power line, and the final 200 yards to the finish. I cranked it up. I ran by Elvis, who was there all day. He and his group gave me a cheer. I said “Thank you, thank you very much”, in my best Elvis voice, which got a rise out of the group. I ran by the others, sitting under tents and clapping as I went by. For a few moments, I got a little emotional, as I have at other races. I love the fact that total strangers will cheer for everyone, no matter how fast or slow. I saw the line and I poured on whatever I had left. I looked at the clock. It said 10:18: 50-something. I heard the BEEP! I had crossed just a few seconds before 10:19. I had gotten my secondary goal. I didn’t really have a hard finish time in my head when I started. But, I certainly didn’t expect to break my PR by 90 minutes. It was awesome!
I waited for my wife to come in behind me. She had been 5 - 10 minutes behind me for most of the second and third laps. I really expected her to pass me the last few miles. She had been wrestling with an injury leading up to the race, and wasn’t sure if she could even run it. I was so happy when we passed each other and she would smile and give me a high five. She had to DNF at the Huff 50k, because of her injury. I was so psyched to see her going all the way. When I last saw her, at the Far Side, she said “ I feel great,. No pain, no soreness. Wait ‘til you see my sexy toes!” I knew that this meant she had blisters, or worse. But, mentally, she was in a great place. She crossed the line at 10:52, fantastic for her first 50 miler. After hugs and congratulations, we headed to the medical tent to review the blisters. She had two toes with big blisters under the toe nails. They were big, blood-filled and ugly. She has lost toe nails before. And had no problem with the fact that these two were going to go eventually, and probably the two big toes, as well. She ended the race by saying “ I’m definitely ready to do another one!” What a Rock Star!
After some great beans and rice and other goodies, we made our back to the motel for some well deserved rest, after a visit to the local IHOP. I always crave breakfast after a long race. As we were driving home from the airport after our flight to Denver (3 hours), it started snowing. I said “If my feet aren’t too swollen to get in my boots, I’m going up skiing for a couple of hours in the morning”. Lo and behold, the swelling was down. There was 6 inches of fresh powder, and I had a great morning of skiing. It only lasted 90 minutes before my legs said it was time to go. It seems like every race I do leads to a better and much faster recovery. My wife is also feeling generally good, and tending to her toes.
Overall, I loved this race. The course was good and well marked. The surface was easy on the body, although a bit hard to see the texture of the roots sometimes with all the pine needle coverage. I thought how easy it would be to miss a root in the dark, with just a headlamp or flashlight. The aid was great. And the volunteers were excellent. I’m always so amazed at how supportive the volunteers are at ultras. This race was no exception. Good people everywhere in this sport. I would highly recommend this race to anyone. Great for first timers, or for veterans looking for a fast PR. All these reasons add up to make this race grow more every year, and deservedly so.
The weather looked to be perfect, with a high around 70, and a starting temp around 45. Coming from Colorado, it was exciting to have warm weather for running. Something we hadn’t experienced since October. I had run the Huff 50k, in Indiana, over the holidays. Other than that, most of my training was 6-8 miles at a time, with a couple of 12 milers. However, I had a lot of cross training, mostly skiing (telemark style) some great powder days! I knew that being over-trained was not an issue.
The course for the 50 milers is 3 loops. I started with my wife for the first mile or so. She was on a strict 5:1 program, so I went on ahead. I kept my pace pretty comfortable and still passed quite a few runners during the first loop. I was on a 10 -10:30 pace for most of the first half. This was a good clip for me. I didn’t feel too fatigued by it, so I kept it up, walking all of the uphills. It was fun to see the 100 milers coming at us at the Far Side. The 2.9 mile section got kind of crowded the first lap. With around 450 people on the course, it got a bit tight trying to pass and avoid the oncoming traffic. This may be my only complaint about the course layout. Certainly not a major issue, but it sometimes required a lot of concentration on footing and traffic, at the same time. I saw a few other Ultra listers on the course, and introduced myself. I came around to the final stretch toward the Lodge and crossed the mat at 2:55 for my first lap. At 10:47 / mile pace, I was very pleased. I had visions in my head of a sub-10 hour finish. Unfortunately, I had to take a 15 minute stop to change, futz around and tape my foot over a hot spot.
The second lap started well. I was maintaining my previous pace for the first couple miles. But, by the first aid station (20 miles in), it started. I always seem to get a rough patch around this time. It typically starts somewhere between miles 15-20. It seems to last for 4-5 miles. This time, it lasted for 10 miles. The rest of the second loop was just tough. I mentally went through the drill. My hydration was good,. My electrolytes were good. I was taking one S! Cap per hour, about normal. I wondered if the humidity was affecting my sweat rate. I took my next one after 45 minutes. I was still moving pretty well. But, it was requiring much more effort. I kept to my program of eating something at every aid station, with the grab-and-go technique. Bananas and PBJ’s were my food of choice, with some Oreos and animal crackers thrown in for good measure. Not only was I running through the woods all day, just like when I was a kid. I was also eating just like I was a kid.
By the time I got to the Site 174 aid station I was feeling pretty sore. Nothing in particular, just most things below the waist. They had some ibuprofen, so I took two. Within 10 minutes, I was feeling much better. I don’t know if it really took the edge off, or if it was a placebo effect. But, I didn’t care. I was running into the Lodge feeling good again. My second loop split was about 3:45, including the 15 minutes I lost at my drop bag, the first time around. I grabbed snacks, topped off my bladder and went straight out.
I did the math. I figured if my third loop was faster than the second, I might have a shot at going under 10 hours. Something I’d thought about, but considered to be my “fantasy finish time” for this race. I had done a three loop 50k, and had the same experience of a bad second loop, and a big resurgence on the third. So, I was going to push it a little. I wanted the finish first. But, sub-10 would be very sweet! My philosophy with running these races is also three goals, in order: One: no injuries. Two: finish the race. Three: set a good time for myself (totally relative). I’m just not willing to risk pushing too hard for a better time and pay for it for weeks to come, nursing an injury. An experience I’ve endured before.
Shortly after starting the lap, I ran with Ryan Valdez, who puts on the El Scorcho race in Texas. We both felt the same. Tired, but with some fuel still in the tank. We talked and prodded each other along for the next 10 miles, or so. At the Dam Road aid station, he pulled out before I did and I never saw him again until the finish line. He had more in the tank than I did, finishing 10 minutes ahead of me.
The 4.4 miles from Dam Road to Site 174 seemed really long each time around. I kept thinking it was almost done, but it just wouldn’t come. Then, every time I got past it, the last 2.9 miles to the Lodge flew by. I suppose it’s all mental games at work. As usual, it came slowly. I was watching the time. If I could get there in 11 minutes, then turn in 10 minute miles to the finish, I could get in under ten hours. Sadly, I got there in 24 minutes. I realized that there was no way for me to run 2.9 miles in 17 minutes. So, I rethought my goals a little. My PR at 50 miles was 11:49 (DFL, and pretty darn slow). If I got in under 10:19, I could break my PR by an hour and thirty minutes. That was damn respectable. So, I walked the ups, ran the downs, and mixed it up in the flats. As usual, the last section flew by. I saw the power line, and the final 200 yards to the finish. I cranked it up. I ran by Elvis, who was there all day. He and his group gave me a cheer. I said “Thank you, thank you very much”, in my best Elvis voice, which got a rise out of the group. I ran by the others, sitting under tents and clapping as I went by. For a few moments, I got a little emotional, as I have at other races. I love the fact that total strangers will cheer for everyone, no matter how fast or slow. I saw the line and I poured on whatever I had left. I looked at the clock. It said 10:18: 50-something. I heard the BEEP! I had crossed just a few seconds before 10:19. I had gotten my secondary goal. I didn’t really have a hard finish time in my head when I started. But, I certainly didn’t expect to break my PR by 90 minutes. It was awesome!
I waited for my wife to come in behind me. She had been 5 - 10 minutes behind me for most of the second and third laps. I really expected her to pass me the last few miles. She had been wrestling with an injury leading up to the race, and wasn’t sure if she could even run it. I was so happy when we passed each other and she would smile and give me a high five. She had to DNF at the Huff 50k, because of her injury. I was so psyched to see her going all the way. When I last saw her, at the Far Side, she said “ I feel great,. No pain, no soreness. Wait ‘til you see my sexy toes!” I knew that this meant she had blisters, or worse. But, mentally, she was in a great place. She crossed the line at 10:52, fantastic for her first 50 miler. After hugs and congratulations, we headed to the medical tent to review the blisters. She had two toes with big blisters under the toe nails. They were big, blood-filled and ugly. She has lost toe nails before. And had no problem with the fact that these two were going to go eventually, and probably the two big toes, as well. She ended the race by saying “ I’m definitely ready to do another one!” What a Rock Star!
After some great beans and rice and other goodies, we made our back to the motel for some well deserved rest, after a visit to the local IHOP. I always crave breakfast after a long race. As we were driving home from the airport after our flight to Denver (3 hours), it started snowing. I said “If my feet aren’t too swollen to get in my boots, I’m going up skiing for a couple of hours in the morning”. Lo and behold, the swelling was down. There was 6 inches of fresh powder, and I had a great morning of skiing. It only lasted 90 minutes before my legs said it was time to go. It seems like every race I do leads to a better and much faster recovery. My wife is also feeling generally good, and tending to her toes.
Overall, I loved this race. The course was good and well marked. The surface was easy on the body, although a bit hard to see the texture of the roots sometimes with all the pine needle coverage. I thought how easy it would be to miss a root in the dark, with just a headlamp or flashlight. The aid was great. And the volunteers were excellent. I’m always so amazed at how supportive the volunteers are at ultras. This race was no exception. Good people everywhere in this sport. I would highly recommend this race to anyone. Great for first timers, or for veterans looking for a fast PR. All these reasons add up to make this race grow more every year, and deservedly so.
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
Huff 50k Trail Run
My family and I went back to Indiana for a family visit over the holidays. My wife and I had heard about the Huff (Huntington Ultra Frigid Fifty) 50 k Run, so after checking out the weather forecast, we thought we'd give it a go. We only signed up two days before the race. My wife, Paige, had been nursing a minor injury for a few weeks. But, she felt pretty good. We had decided that if it was going to be knee deep in snow, or icy, we would just enjoy some more time with our families. However, the forecast was 30 degrees, and cloudy. About as good as one could expect, so we went for it.
We arrived in Huntington, after leaving our daughter with the Grand folks, and had a date. Bob Evans, for some home-cooking, Indiana-style. Not fancy, but tasty! We don't often get to have adult time for a little getaway, so we really enjoyed it. We woke up to find it was indeed cloudy, but the rain from the day before had stopped. News from the grapevine said that it was a muddy mess on the course, worse than last year. Since we knew nothing of last year, we just hoped for the best.
At 8:00 a.m., they fired a huge cannon (think civil war style, lit with a big fancy wick-stick kinda-thing), BOOM! We were off! The course followed the road for a hundred yards, or so, then a left turn. Let the mud begin! This first 2 miles was pretty darn muddy. Slick, surface mud. Happily, it was never the "stick to your shoes" kind that adds several pounds to weight of you feet. You could avoid most of it by going from one side to the other, or jumping here and there. After the first mile, I noticed a small airport on the right. Just after that, I saw two people go down, on a steep downhill section. "Ice!" one yelled, after he got up. Mental note: when you see the planes, slow down for the ice. It was slick on the opposite, uphill as well. This was about the only icy section on the whole course.
Just before the icy hill, I had parted with my wife. She wanted to run her own pace, and not feel pressured. It was the last time I saw her, until the finish. But, we did write a couple notes back and forth, as we each passed the car to refuel. I felt really good, especially the first half of the lap, and passed many people, as we had started in the back of the pack. Of course, by mile 3, many of the single loop runners (10.8 miles) were blazing by me like I was standing still. Many were dressed in shorts and coated up and down their backside with mud. Appearantly, when you run faster, you get muddier. Being a slow plodder, I never knew!
After 2 miles, the course turned to pavement, for a 1 1/2 mile crossing of the dam. There was some traffic. But not alot. I enjoyed stomping the mud off and picking up the pace a bit. I was running about 10 minute miles. Good for me, in these conditions. The first aid station was at mile 4. Simple, with snacks, water, etc. I grabbed a couple of cookies and pretzels and kept moving, thanking the volunteeers. Always a must at any race.
Thus, began another muddy section. A quarter mile of really slick stuff. The next 4-5 miles had a few small creek crossings and a lot of mud pits. Sometimes, you could take the side and avoid most of it. Most of the time, there was really no point. You might miss one. But, the next one would suck your feet in. Eventually, I gave up trying to avoid it, and just went for the path of least resistance. There was also a section where there were several large puddles, several inches deep, along the edges of a corn field. Once again, it was pointlees to try to to stay dry. But after a few minutes, the feet would eventually dry a little, until the next one came along. I would estimate that out of 10.8 miles of trail, there was probably three miles of mud.
A half mile before the next aid station, we went by a shooting range. A little unnerving. The next aid station had some great hot soup, chicken noodle. I had run out of electrolyte pills a few weeks earlier, so I worried a bit about getting some salt intake. The soup was a good solution here. As usual at these races, the aid stations volunteers were helpful and friendly. I always give them many thanks, no matter how bad I might feel during a race.
The last 3-4 miles was great running. Lots of nice gentle rolling trail, with very little mud. There was another paved section which croosed over the reservoir again, before the last 2.8 miles into the start/ finish. This was my favorite part of the course. I stopped at the car to leave a note of encouragement for my wife, then onto the starting line for a first lap time around 1:57:00.
I grabbed some soup (the saltiest I could find), a couple of banana halves, and headed out. Ooops! Almost forgot water. I carry a bladder pack when I run and like to carry at least a quart or two with me. That way, I don't have carry a bottle and I don't have to stop and refill very often. I would do each lap on about 1 1/2 quarts each. As I left for the next loop, the trail had gotten a lot worse, in terms of mud. I still moved pretty well at first. But, after crossing the dam, at mile 14, I started to feel pretty slow. Not really hurting bad, just a lot of small pains. My hip flexors hurt, my quads were tight, my calves were tight. I worried that it was the lack of electrolytes. I have used S-caps! pretty religiously and I think my body is accustomed to that consistent balance. I was worried that I might start cramping up.
At the next aid station, I tried to load up on some salty pretzels and crackers. It didn't seem to help much. My pace had slowed to about 12-13 minute miles. As I approached the 3rd aid station, I was really hoping to find someone with some extra salt tabs. At one point, I saw a pill someone had dropped. I thought: "Hey, if I rinse that off with some water...." I picked it up. Then I came to my senses. Who knows what that is? That could be Vicadin, or who knows what. I threw it in the woods and carried on. At the aid station they had some Ibuprofen. I took two and headed out with snacks in hand. After another mile, the IB had kicked in, I guess. I no longer felt the aches and pains. Which, mentally made me feel even better. I ran well back to the start, crossing with a second lap time around 2:26.
My Dad and his wife Sherri met me there. They wanted to come up and check out the race. I told them that we'd love to see them. But, in reality, they would probably only see us for a couple of minutes, every 2 hours, as we came through the aid station. I spent a few extra minutes with them, grabbing a sandwich to eat. Then, I was off again for lap 3. I was feeling pretty good again. But, I was ready to get this thing done.
Lap three went pretty well. The course was definitely deteriorating by the hour. However,I did manage to get through the whole race without falling at all. I maintained 12 minute miles through most of the lap. I was tired, but ready to rock. As I got a few miles in, I started to pass some other runners. I'm not accustomed to passing others, and it felt damn good. I probably passed 10-12 runners on the final several miles. I would see them up ahead, and reel 'em in. Always courteous to give a "nice job" on the way by, which they returned. With a half mile to go, I saw another runner ahead. "I got him", I thought, and scooted by.
I came to the finish without much fanfare. I felt strong and was running pretty well, with very few walking breaks the last lap. I crossed the line at 6:53 and change. Not particularly fast, but satisfying, given the conditions. The winner had finished the 32.4 miles (some said closer to 33) in 4:04. Amazingly, a pace of 6:30 minutes per mile. Most of the runners had gone in the tent for some of the eight different soups offered. Then, I saw my wife. I knew she had been behind me. So, when I saw her there, I knew she had dropped. Her knee injury had flared up at mile 15. She had to walk in the next 5 miles to the sart/ finish. She had gotten very cold while walking, and had been trying to warm up for the last hour or more. I felt really bad for her. But, she seemed to take it all in stride. She has great "go with the flow" attitude. She completed 21.6 miles and felt good for the accomplishment.
After a few minutes of eating soup, cooling down, then warming up again, we hopped in the car for the 3 hour drive back to Grandpa's house. I felt really good, considering I had just run through the mud for seven hours. Even the next day, I had almost no soreness and a great recovery. I feel like I'm finally starting to get some endurance built up. My previous ultras ( a 50 miler in August and a 100 miler in October) had both left me pretty shattered for a few days afterward. It's great to know that you don't need to lose a whole week afterward, just for full recovery. Next up, Rocky Raccoon 50 mile race, on Feb. 2. Rock on!
Joe
We arrived in Huntington, after leaving our daughter with the Grand folks, and had a date. Bob Evans, for some home-cooking, Indiana-style. Not fancy, but tasty! We don't often get to have adult time for a little getaway, so we really enjoyed it. We woke up to find it was indeed cloudy, but the rain from the day before had stopped. News from the grapevine said that it was a muddy mess on the course, worse than last year. Since we knew nothing of last year, we just hoped for the best.
At 8:00 a.m., they fired a huge cannon (think civil war style, lit with a big fancy wick-stick kinda-thing), BOOM! We were off! The course followed the road for a hundred yards, or so, then a left turn. Let the mud begin! This first 2 miles was pretty darn muddy. Slick, surface mud. Happily, it was never the "stick to your shoes" kind that adds several pounds to weight of you feet. You could avoid most of it by going from one side to the other, or jumping here and there. After the first mile, I noticed a small airport on the right. Just after that, I saw two people go down, on a steep downhill section. "Ice!" one yelled, after he got up. Mental note: when you see the planes, slow down for the ice. It was slick on the opposite, uphill as well. This was about the only icy section on the whole course.
Just before the icy hill, I had parted with my wife. She wanted to run her own pace, and not feel pressured. It was the last time I saw her, until the finish. But, we did write a couple notes back and forth, as we each passed the car to refuel. I felt really good, especially the first half of the lap, and passed many people, as we had started in the back of the pack. Of course, by mile 3, many of the single loop runners (10.8 miles) were blazing by me like I was standing still. Many were dressed in shorts and coated up and down their backside with mud. Appearantly, when you run faster, you get muddier. Being a slow plodder, I never knew!
After 2 miles, the course turned to pavement, for a 1 1/2 mile crossing of the dam. There was some traffic. But not alot. I enjoyed stomping the mud off and picking up the pace a bit. I was running about 10 minute miles. Good for me, in these conditions. The first aid station was at mile 4. Simple, with snacks, water, etc. I grabbed a couple of cookies and pretzels and kept moving, thanking the volunteeers. Always a must at any race.
Thus, began another muddy section. A quarter mile of really slick stuff. The next 4-5 miles had a few small creek crossings and a lot of mud pits. Sometimes, you could take the side and avoid most of it. Most of the time, there was really no point. You might miss one. But, the next one would suck your feet in. Eventually, I gave up trying to avoid it, and just went for the path of least resistance. There was also a section where there were several large puddles, several inches deep, along the edges of a corn field. Once again, it was pointlees to try to to stay dry. But after a few minutes, the feet would eventually dry a little, until the next one came along. I would estimate that out of 10.8 miles of trail, there was probably three miles of mud.
A half mile before the next aid station, we went by a shooting range. A little unnerving. The next aid station had some great hot soup, chicken noodle. I had run out of electrolyte pills a few weeks earlier, so I worried a bit about getting some salt intake. The soup was a good solution here. As usual at these races, the aid stations volunteers were helpful and friendly. I always give them many thanks, no matter how bad I might feel during a race.
The last 3-4 miles was great running. Lots of nice gentle rolling trail, with very little mud. There was another paved section which croosed over the reservoir again, before the last 2.8 miles into the start/ finish. This was my favorite part of the course. I stopped at the car to leave a note of encouragement for my wife, then onto the starting line for a first lap time around 1:57:00.
I grabbed some soup (the saltiest I could find), a couple of banana halves, and headed out. Ooops! Almost forgot water. I carry a bladder pack when I run and like to carry at least a quart or two with me. That way, I don't have carry a bottle and I don't have to stop and refill very often. I would do each lap on about 1 1/2 quarts each. As I left for the next loop, the trail had gotten a lot worse, in terms of mud. I still moved pretty well at first. But, after crossing the dam, at mile 14, I started to feel pretty slow. Not really hurting bad, just a lot of small pains. My hip flexors hurt, my quads were tight, my calves were tight. I worried that it was the lack of electrolytes. I have used S-caps! pretty religiously and I think my body is accustomed to that consistent balance. I was worried that I might start cramping up.
At the next aid station, I tried to load up on some salty pretzels and crackers. It didn't seem to help much. My pace had slowed to about 12-13 minute miles. As I approached the 3rd aid station, I was really hoping to find someone with some extra salt tabs. At one point, I saw a pill someone had dropped. I thought: "Hey, if I rinse that off with some water...." I picked it up. Then I came to my senses. Who knows what that is? That could be Vicadin, or who knows what. I threw it in the woods and carried on. At the aid station they had some Ibuprofen. I took two and headed out with snacks in hand. After another mile, the IB had kicked in, I guess. I no longer felt the aches and pains. Which, mentally made me feel even better. I ran well back to the start, crossing with a second lap time around 2:26.
My Dad and his wife Sherri met me there. They wanted to come up and check out the race. I told them that we'd love to see them. But, in reality, they would probably only see us for a couple of minutes, every 2 hours, as we came through the aid station. I spent a few extra minutes with them, grabbing a sandwich to eat. Then, I was off again for lap 3. I was feeling pretty good again. But, I was ready to get this thing done.
Lap three went pretty well. The course was definitely deteriorating by the hour. However,I did manage to get through the whole race without falling at all. I maintained 12 minute miles through most of the lap. I was tired, but ready to rock. As I got a few miles in, I started to pass some other runners. I'm not accustomed to passing others, and it felt damn good. I probably passed 10-12 runners on the final several miles. I would see them up ahead, and reel 'em in. Always courteous to give a "nice job" on the way by, which they returned. With a half mile to go, I saw another runner ahead. "I got him", I thought, and scooted by.
I came to the finish without much fanfare. I felt strong and was running pretty well, with very few walking breaks the last lap. I crossed the line at 6:53 and change. Not particularly fast, but satisfying, given the conditions. The winner had finished the 32.4 miles (some said closer to 33) in 4:04. Amazingly, a pace of 6:30 minutes per mile. Most of the runners had gone in the tent for some of the eight different soups offered. Then, I saw my wife. I knew she had been behind me. So, when I saw her there, I knew she had dropped. Her knee injury had flared up at mile 15. She had to walk in the next 5 miles to the sart/ finish. She had gotten very cold while walking, and had been trying to warm up for the last hour or more. I felt really bad for her. But, she seemed to take it all in stride. She has great "go with the flow" attitude. She completed 21.6 miles and felt good for the accomplishment.
After a few minutes of eating soup, cooling down, then warming up again, we hopped in the car for the 3 hour drive back to Grandpa's house. I felt really good, considering I had just run through the mud for seven hours. Even the next day, I had almost no soreness and a great recovery. I feel like I'm finally starting to get some endurance built up. My previous ultras ( a 50 miler in August and a 100 miler in October) had both left me pretty shattered for a few days afterward. It's great to know that you don't need to lose a whole week afterward, just for full recovery. Next up, Rocky Raccoon 50 mile race, on Feb. 2. Rock on!
Joe
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
The Last HIke on the Crest Trail This Year
I hiked on the Crest Trail toady. Probably for the last time this year. The day, November 20. The fact that I can go to 12,000 feet and hike on November 20th is a sad state of affairs for this part of the world. In a normal year, there would be 2-3 of snow on this trail by now.
I left the truck at 12:40, hoping to cover about 10 miles, without any pains from an ongoing knee injury. It only flares up after about 40-60 minutes of running. So, today I will hike. The trail quickly heads into the woods and I encounter snow. Maybe not a good choice of trails, I think. However, as the next mile or two go by, I only encounter small patches of snow, a hundred yards long, at the most. Because of the freeze / thaw cycle, it is firm and easy to walk on. Althouhg, it is icy at times. Not a good place to get hurt. Travelling solo, high in the Rockies, with a storm due to arive at 8:00 p.m.
After the first 2 miles, I am mostly free of the trees, and the snow. I am rewarded with miles of wide-open views. I can see Pikes Peak, about 80 miles to the east. I can see the San Juan mountains, about 70 miles to the west. And the trail. Dry as a bone. Actually so dry that it is sandy in spots. I lament that there is no snow at this late date. I would much prefer to be making some turns today. But, for now, I appreciate the fact that I am able to be here. To take in this amazing place I call my backyard. And, especially after having to rest from an injury, that I am able to just be out here.
As I crest above the treeline, the wind starts to howl. I am dressed pretty minmally for this day. It is 35 degrees, but the wind is a consistent 25 mph, out in the open. I am wearing fleece pants, a fleece top, a rain shell and a pair of very lightweight gloves. But, as long as I am moving, I am comfortable. So, I cinch down the hood and concentrate on moving at a quick pace while exposed to the wind.
A the 5 mile mark, I reach South Fooses Creek. I find a place somewhat out of the wind. It is an open saddle at treeline, straddling the divide. I pull out my PBJ, and eat half of it. I look at the time, 2:30 p.m. I've got a bout 2 hours before the sun goes behind the peaks. It will be getting colder very soon. Not a place to spend even a little time after dark, equipped as I am. So, I stand up and began to hike briskly back.
I spend an awful lot of time high up in the mountains, most of it alone. While I'm out, I often consider what would happen if things go wrong. I have been very lucky that it hasn't ever happened. But, I know that it could only take one small mistake to turn a beautiful, relaxing day into a disaster. I try to prepare for an emergency, but often travel very light in the name of a quicker pace and less time spent in a potentially dangerous situation. So, I carry on and carefully watch my steps, especially on the snow and ice sections.
This day leads me back to the truck by 3:55 p.m. I covered 10 miles in 3:15. Not blisterig. But, considering a hiking pace, the altitude and the weather, quite respectable. And how many people get to do high altitude training in mid- November?
I left the truck at 12:40, hoping to cover about 10 miles, without any pains from an ongoing knee injury. It only flares up after about 40-60 minutes of running. So, today I will hike. The trail quickly heads into the woods and I encounter snow. Maybe not a good choice of trails, I think. However, as the next mile or two go by, I only encounter small patches of snow, a hundred yards long, at the most. Because of the freeze / thaw cycle, it is firm and easy to walk on. Althouhg, it is icy at times. Not a good place to get hurt. Travelling solo, high in the Rockies, with a storm due to arive at 8:00 p.m.
After the first 2 miles, I am mostly free of the trees, and the snow. I am rewarded with miles of wide-open views. I can see Pikes Peak, about 80 miles to the east. I can see the San Juan mountains, about 70 miles to the west. And the trail. Dry as a bone. Actually so dry that it is sandy in spots. I lament that there is no snow at this late date. I would much prefer to be making some turns today. But, for now, I appreciate the fact that I am able to be here. To take in this amazing place I call my backyard. And, especially after having to rest from an injury, that I am able to just be out here.
As I crest above the treeline, the wind starts to howl. I am dressed pretty minmally for this day. It is 35 degrees, but the wind is a consistent 25 mph, out in the open. I am wearing fleece pants, a fleece top, a rain shell and a pair of very lightweight gloves. But, as long as I am moving, I am comfortable. So, I cinch down the hood and concentrate on moving at a quick pace while exposed to the wind.
A the 5 mile mark, I reach South Fooses Creek. I find a place somewhat out of the wind. It is an open saddle at treeline, straddling the divide. I pull out my PBJ, and eat half of it. I look at the time, 2:30 p.m. I've got a bout 2 hours before the sun goes behind the peaks. It will be getting colder very soon. Not a place to spend even a little time after dark, equipped as I am. So, I stand up and began to hike briskly back.
I spend an awful lot of time high up in the mountains, most of it alone. While I'm out, I often consider what would happen if things go wrong. I have been very lucky that it hasn't ever happened. But, I know that it could only take one small mistake to turn a beautiful, relaxing day into a disaster. I try to prepare for an emergency, but often travel very light in the name of a quicker pace and less time spent in a potentially dangerous situation. So, I carry on and carefully watch my steps, especially on the snow and ice sections.
This day leads me back to the truck by 3:55 p.m. I covered 10 miles in 3:15. Not blisterig. But, considering a hiking pace, the altitude and the weather, quite respectable. And how many people get to do high altitude training in mid- November?
Thursday, October 18, 2007
My Run Yesterday (09/15/07)
It's starting to turn to fall here in Colorado. In Salida, about an hour south of Leadville (for the geographically challenged), it's still warm during the day, but dipping to the 30's and 40's at night. I have been slowly ramping up, after running my first 50 miler at Lean Horse amonth ago. I'm thinking a bout one more race before winter. A 100 ,maybe a 24 hour?I don't know if my body will take the abuse. I must be ready for ski season soon. This is non-negotiable.
I pulled out a guide book of local trails and decided to try the Round Hill Loop, about 15 miles south of town, at the upper end of the San Luis Valley. Lots of big, wide open spaces, and awesome views of the Sangre De Cristo range, to the east. It's always so fun to go somewhere new, even if it's my own backyard. As a local, I sometimes become jaded to the beauty around us here. I see several peaks above 14,000 feet from my windows. But, I always remind myself, and especially my 3 year old daughter, how lucky we are to live here.
I drove about 30 minutes to the trailhead, a non-descript dirt road turning off the highway. I am immediately greeted by several cows near the cattle guard. They seem to be staring at the cattle guard.
"What is that thing on the ground?" "I don't know, but I'm not going near it. Let's stay right here and eat grass." "Okay."
I park just past the cows, and check the book for directions. Uphill 1 mile, then left. I begin walking. Almost every uphill in this part of the world is a walk. "Runnable uphills" is a rarity. The area is sage brush and grass. Good place to be a cow. Soon, I encounter the first turn. Go uphill along the fence. How nice. There is an aspen grove along the fence. The leaves are just starting to turn and I follow along the grove for a few minutes. As the miles go on, I realize that this place is absolutely riddled with jeep roads. Options crop up every 5 minutes. I know that every road will lead back toward the highway if I go east. And the mighty Sangre De Cristos are there to guide me if I need to, so I don't worry too much about getting lost. But, it is a challenge to follow the prescribed route from the book. Sometimes, I run with the book in hand, keeping up with turns that come every 100 yards, then another, then 2 lefts, then right.
When I top out, after a bout 1,000 feet of climb, I'm in the spruce/ pine forest, with an occasional aspen mixed in for scenic effect. The jeep roads are crazy and windy. They undulate, dive, climb. As I come around one corner, I see a vehicle. It has a sticker that indicates "bow hunter". It is hunting season, so I watch carefully. I don't do anything to act like a deer. After a few minutes, I round a corner to see a hunter very slowly walking up the road, dressed in camo from head to toe. Curiously, the camo looks very warm, but it is 70 degrees. I approach at a walk, trying to make noise, by stepping on leaves (like a bi-ped would). After I give a little throat-clearing, the hunter turns to see me. It is a middle-aged, heavy-set woman. "Hello" I say quietly. She is obviously in stalking mode, glancing around the woods. "I thought I was the only one out here", she replies. "Me too", I say, and off I go at a slow run.
Soon I approach a junction. Guide book says "sign for Silver Creek. You are not going there, turn right." But...Silver Creek? That's sweet single track! I turn left. I'll just go out a half mile, or so. Just a taste. All of this loop is on jeep roads. I need a little more fun. After a few minutes, I return to the junction, and head to the right, back on the Round Hill Loop.
It's all downhill now. About 4 miles down to the truck. Wahoo! The road rolls left and right, undulates, rolls gradually down. As I break out of the trees, I see fantastic views if the Sangres, dead ahead to the east, and an occasional peek of Mt. Ouray to the northwest. I see Ouray from my living room, and I always enjoy seeing a different side of it. It happens to be 13,970 feet, just shy of 14,000. In Colorado, the 14ers seem to get all the glory. But Ouray is large and awesome, and a force in it's own right. It produces its fair share of weather around here. And I secretly love the fact that the Fourteener Club doesn't know it, or want to "bag it".
Here, I must keep the book in hand, turn left, turn left, left again 1/2 mile. It's wide open and I see a 4 wheel ATV approaching. It's an older man, with 2 young kids, proabably 4 and 6 years old. I figure it's probably a grandfather and his grandkids. Maybe he's teaching them about hunting? I wonder. I'm not a hunter myself, but I figure it must be pretty cool to have your grandpa teach you something like that. I also hope that he teaches them respect for the land as well.
Left turn, then 1 mile back to the truck. Smooth and downhill. Take a pause here. Check out this amazing view one more time. Wow! I'm so lucky to be able to do this. Here. Now, during autumn. Holy cow, winter is around the corner. I LOVE winter. I would ski every day, if I could. It won't be long! ...Yeah.
Time to cruise downhill. I arrive back at the truck. 9 miles. Sweet! That was a good run. My knees hurt a bit. Have since the 50. Curiously, they didn't hurt during or after the race. The cows have gone. Were they terrified of the cattle guard? Was there just better grass somewhere? Who knows what cows think? Probably not all that much, I think.
Cheers,
Joe Judd
I pulled out a guide book of local trails and decided to try the Round Hill Loop, about 15 miles south of town, at the upper end of the San Luis Valley. Lots of big, wide open spaces, and awesome views of the Sangre De Cristo range, to the east. It's always so fun to go somewhere new, even if it's my own backyard. As a local, I sometimes become jaded to the beauty around us here. I see several peaks above 14,000 feet from my windows. But, I always remind myself, and especially my 3 year old daughter, how lucky we are to live here.
I drove about 30 minutes to the trailhead, a non-descript dirt road turning off the highway. I am immediately greeted by several cows near the cattle guard. They seem to be staring at the cattle guard.
"What is that thing on the ground?" "I don't know, but I'm not going near it. Let's stay right here and eat grass." "Okay."
I park just past the cows, and check the book for directions. Uphill 1 mile, then left. I begin walking. Almost every uphill in this part of the world is a walk. "Runnable uphills" is a rarity. The area is sage brush and grass. Good place to be a cow. Soon, I encounter the first turn. Go uphill along the fence. How nice. There is an aspen grove along the fence. The leaves are just starting to turn and I follow along the grove for a few minutes. As the miles go on, I realize that this place is absolutely riddled with jeep roads. Options crop up every 5 minutes. I know that every road will lead back toward the highway if I go east. And the mighty Sangre De Cristos are there to guide me if I need to, so I don't worry too much about getting lost. But, it is a challenge to follow the prescribed route from the book. Sometimes, I run with the book in hand, keeping up with turns that come every 100 yards, then another, then 2 lefts, then right.
When I top out, after a bout 1,000 feet of climb, I'm in the spruce/ pine forest, with an occasional aspen mixed in for scenic effect. The jeep roads are crazy and windy. They undulate, dive, climb. As I come around one corner, I see a vehicle. It has a sticker that indicates "bow hunter". It is hunting season, so I watch carefully. I don't do anything to act like a deer. After a few minutes, I round a corner to see a hunter very slowly walking up the road, dressed in camo from head to toe. Curiously, the camo looks very warm, but it is 70 degrees. I approach at a walk, trying to make noise, by stepping on leaves (like a bi-ped would). After I give a little throat-clearing, the hunter turns to see me. It is a middle-aged, heavy-set woman. "Hello" I say quietly. She is obviously in stalking mode, glancing around the woods. "I thought I was the only one out here", she replies. "Me too", I say, and off I go at a slow run.
Soon I approach a junction. Guide book says "sign for Silver Creek. You are not going there, turn right." But...Silver Creek? That's sweet single track! I turn left. I'll just go out a half mile, or so. Just a taste. All of this loop is on jeep roads. I need a little more fun. After a few minutes, I return to the junction, and head to the right, back on the Round Hill Loop.
It's all downhill now. About 4 miles down to the truck. Wahoo! The road rolls left and right, undulates, rolls gradually down. As I break out of the trees, I see fantastic views if the Sangres, dead ahead to the east, and an occasional peek of Mt. Ouray to the northwest. I see Ouray from my living room, and I always enjoy seeing a different side of it. It happens to be 13,970 feet, just shy of 14,000. In Colorado, the 14ers seem to get all the glory. But Ouray is large and awesome, and a force in it's own right. It produces its fair share of weather around here. And I secretly love the fact that the Fourteener Club doesn't know it, or want to "bag it".
Here, I must keep the book in hand, turn left, turn left, left again 1/2 mile. It's wide open and I see a 4 wheel ATV approaching. It's an older man, with 2 young kids, proabably 4 and 6 years old. I figure it's probably a grandfather and his grandkids. Maybe he's teaching them about hunting? I wonder. I'm not a hunter myself, but I figure it must be pretty cool to have your grandpa teach you something like that. I also hope that he teaches them respect for the land as well.
Left turn, then 1 mile back to the truck. Smooth and downhill. Take a pause here. Check out this amazing view one more time. Wow! I'm so lucky to be able to do this. Here. Now, during autumn. Holy cow, winter is around the corner. I LOVE winter. I would ski every day, if I could. It won't be long! ...Yeah.
Time to cruise downhill. I arrive back at the truck. 9 miles. Sweet! That was a good run. My knees hurt a bit. Have since the 50. Curiously, they didn't hurt during or after the race. The cows have gone. Were they terrified of the cattle guard? Was there just better grass somewhere? Who knows what cows think? Probably not all that much, I think.
Cheers,
Joe Judd
Heartland 100 Race Report, Oct., 2007
After running the Lean Horse 50, in August of 2007, I had the ultra bug even worse than before. After travelling with my family, who did a great job of crewing for me, I couldn't wait to plan another race/ vacation. It helped that my wife also caught the bug, and was totally on board for another event. I had to choose between the Boulder 100, which was very close to home. But, somewhat boring to run 7 mile out and backs around the reservoir with hardly so much as a tree in sight. Easy logistically, but hard mentally. OR, I could run the Heartland 100, in the Kansas tall grass prarie. Being a lover of wide open spaces and big vistas, it was an easy choice. Much more difficult to pull of logistically, but a far more interesting endeavour. So, 3 weeks before the race, I signed up. No turning back now!
I certainly had many thoughts that I might have been crazy to attempt a 100 miler, just 7 weeks after my first 50 (more on the 'first 50' later). But, I felt good, no injuries and good recovery. I ran a 6 hour race in Frisco, CO, just 3 weeks before Heartland, and ran a PR for every distance up to 36 miles, with excellent recovery. I reasoned that Lean Horse and Frisco were excellent training runs for a 100. I will also interject that I have spent many hours hiking in the mountains in the last several years. During the last two years, I averaged 25-35 mpw on very rugged terrain, often at high altitude, and around 65-75 days a year on skis for as long as I can remember. So, I wasn't exactly starting from scratch. However, I didn't start adding much running to the mix until July of this year.
We arrived on Thursday night with twice as much luggage as we had taken on a 2 month trip to Australia. What if I need this, or that? We had a great pre-race meal in Cassoday and met Jeff Cumblidge, who we had seen at Lean Horse, where he was doing his first 50k. Our daughters had a great time playing together, but his kids were with Grandma for this one. Bummer. He would step up to 50 miles at Heartland. I haven't seen his result yet, but he looked good at the turn, so I hope everything went well.
After a reasonable night's sleep (I woke up at 2:30, couldn't get back to sleep) of 5 hours, I got up to make final preparations. We woke up our very sleepy daughter (age 3-3/4, she'll tell you), chucked her in the car and made our way to the start with my father-in-law in tow. He and his wife would do some much needed babysitting, while my wife crewed, and paced me through the night. They drove all the way from Indiana to help out, and visit with us. Can't say enough how much it helped. We took a couple of pictures, exchanged hugs and got in the line up. I had tried hard not to really concentrate too much on the race, especially the distance ahead. I knew it was there, but never dwelled on it. I think this kept me in the moment, and surprisingly calm leading up to, and throughout the race. At 6:00 a.m., we were off!
The first hour or so went by quickly. I kept my headlamp off most of the time and settled in next to various runners and shared some of their beam. By 7:00, the sunrise was coming on strong. Nice color from some storm clouds off to the east. There were some dark clouds to the north. The forecast said they should stay there, but they seemed awfully close. The first aid station was Battle Creek. I made a quick stop for water in my pack ( I mostly used a Nathan pack, with bladder, usually carrying 1-1.5 qts.), and a banana and small sandwich. My plan was to eat something at every manned aid station. My only problems at long distances in the past, were not eating enough. By the time my stomach started feeling bad, it was too late to feed it. I knew there was no way I was going to run on Succeed and Ensure for upwards of 30 hours. So, I ate, and I ate often. Felt great!
As the miles ticked by, I remained in the zone. I ran/ walked something close to 5-1. I did carry a watch, a rarity for me. But, I rarely looked at it. I just did what felt good for a run/walk ratio. Of course, the hills dictated a lot of that timing for me. I reached Lapland at 9:39, right on a 13 min./mile pace. Awesome! My family met me there, and my daughter ran out to meet me yelling "Yea, Dad!" Couldn't ask for a better welcome. I had a banana, some sandwich and a yogurt. I topped off my water and headed out for Teterville at mile 25.
This is when the weather started to get interesting. The sun went away, and the storm clouds drew closer and closer. The thunder also got closer. Not the race to do in a thunderstorm, I kept thinking. There was nowhere to hide from lightning out here. But, there was nothing to do but keep going. As I came into Teterville, just 100 yards out, a huge bolt struck close by. I started to count: one thou... BOOM! It was close! Probably a hundred yards away. Then, the first of the heavier rains started. I stood under the hatch back, got some food and water, and changed to my larger UD pack. It carries a jacket and rain pants better. As I left the AS, the rain picked up in intensity, then petered out in a few minutes. For the next half hour, it was a little comedy of putting on my jacket because the rain got very heavy, then stopped. After a few minutes of no rain, I would take it off and stow it in my pack. At which time it would start to rain hard once more. It went back and forth like this several times. Then, the gumbo showed up. The soil was very clay-like. For about 45 minutes, I could not keep it off my shoes! I would kick it off, and immediately pick it up with the next step. I tried to walk on the gravel, it picked up gravel. I tried to walk on the grassy part, it picked up grass and made a lovely type of adobe. The added weight of several pounds per shoe was exhausting. Finally, I topped the final hill and the road started to dry. A few miles later, I reached Texaco Hill. Warm food and friendly faces.
The following 5 miles to Ridgeline was a bit of a low point. I could still manage to run/ walk, but the walking was starting to win. The balls of my feet were also starting to hurt from the continual pounding of the gravel. I did manage to pass a couple of runners on this stretch which helped my mood. Occasionally, I thought " I can't do this for 65 more miles, not feeling like this". But, my wife was going to start pacing me at mile 65, about 30 miles ahead, and was very excited about it. Plus, I had dragged my family several hundred miles to be here. Quitting didn't really seem like an option. I'll just get to Ridgeline and see.
At Ridgeline, I got some Elastikon tape and taped up the balls of my feet, and ate some Prarie Power Pellets. The chef (Dave, I think) was adamant that they weren't beanie-weenies, but a secret blend of 15 beans with weenies floating on top. All I know is they were great. I had taken 3 1/2 hours to go 11.5 miles since Teterville. I had slowed considerably, but still on a 15 min./ mile pace, overall. If I stayed at that pace, I could finish in 25 hours. I ran out for the next 6 miles to Matfield feeling great, and ran 13 minute miles through the next section.
Miles 42-58 felt good. I ran strong, slowed to a brisk walk for the hills, and made the turn at mile 50 at 6:40 p.m. I had passed maybe a dozen runners since Ridgeline and was feeling great. At around 7:00, it was dark and I turned on my headlamp. I came back into Matfield at 8:25, fueled up, gave my daughter a good night hug and kiss and hit the road for the 6 miles back to Ridgeline. I expected to fly through this section like I had on the way out, but found it to be much more uphill on the return. I put on my I-pod for the first time and put it on cruise. It took me almost 2 hours for this leg, and I could feel myself slowing from the fatigue of 16 hours on my feet.
At Ridgeline, my wife was geared up and ready. She helped fill up my water, get me food, extra batteries, etc. I can't say enough about her effort. She would spend hours driving and waiting, just to cater to my needs for 5-10 minutes at a time. Now, she was ready to go out for an 11 mile stretch with me, in the middle of the night. I felt very grateful and humbled. As we left, the road seemed to be a very long, gradual uphill. I couldn't seem to get into gear. Then, when it finally leveled out and started going downhill, we started to run. Almost immediately, I had a sharp pain in my left leg, around the top of my calf and the lower, outside of my knee. I could not run on it without a lot of pain. I could walk just fine. So, we walked. As we walked I started to yawn uncontrollably. I had a hard time holding a straight line while moving. I would weave a little from side to side. At one point, I held on to my wife's shoulder to steady myself while we walked. I told her that I finally understood how one could fall asleep while moving. All I wanted was to take a nap right there. The gravel road would have been just fine. As we got close to Texaco Hill, I said "I just need a 20 minute nap there. I'll just lay down out of the wind and you can wake me up in 20 minutes".
The Texaco aid station was great. I improvised a knee strap with some tape, hoping it would put me back to run/ walk mode. My wife asked the AS folks if they thought a nap was a good idea. They didn't really answer. Probably not, I surmised. Instead I had a couple cups of Mtn. Dew. Ah, sweet nectar! I normally have a can of Dew after lunch most days. My maintenance dose, I call it. Love the sugar and caffeine. In fact, I'm having my lunchtime dessert as I write this. The Dew snapped me right out of it and I was ready to crank out some miles. I kept saying that I just couldn't imagine having to walk it in from here. This was one of my great fears about the race. But, truth be told, I'm a better walker/ hiker than a runner, so I suppose it was my strong suit.
The gumbo from earlier had dried out, thank goodness, and we moved along toward Teterville. We started to see a few lights behind us. I thought sure they would be blowing by us any minute, but we stayed ahead. In fact, other than aid stations, we were never passed the entire time, even though we were walking. As we came closer to Teterville, I really had to use the bathroom. This had happened about 3-4 times earlier in the day as well. I decided to wait and use the Prarie Potty at the AS. When we turned the corner, I said it would only be a 1/4 mile tops. As it turned out, it was a solid mile. I walked that uphill at a very good clip, thinking it must be just over the next roller each time.
I was a little worried to leave Teterville. I would do this section alone for the next 8.3 miles. My wife would leap frog with the car, and meet me at mile 83 for the final push to the finish. I wasn't sure I could keep my motivation going. I saw some folks come in just behind me who looked pretty bad. I figured I felt better than them. If they could keep it going so could I. My God! Another 25 miles. Let's see... at wallking speed? No, I couldn't think it. I was well ahead of cutoffs, about an hour and a half. That was all that mattered. Then, the weirdest thing happened. I put on the I-pod again. Let's see.. Devo! Yeah, that's the ticket. I put on the first song, Uncontrollable Urge. I was pumped. I started running ! I was running fast. I was probably running an 8 min./ mile pace, and I didn't feel any pain. I had bounced back, baby. Then, the song ended, the music got slower. I tried to get back to a reasonable pace, but the pain was back. It was ridiculous. I had run incredibly fast and pain free for 4 minutes and it was over now. Adrenaline is an amazing thing. But, apparently, I was running out of it now. I was once again reduced to a brisk walk. So, on I walked.
At Lapland, I met my wife again. She had gotten 2 hours sleep and was ready as ever. I should mention that my wife had done her first marathon in 1999. We had both done a 50 miler during that same period. We both finished officially. But, our time was something like 27 hours. It snowed 8 inches during the race and by 12 hours (and 40-44 miles) we were both done. However, because they were running a 100 miler at the same time, we came back to finish our laps the next day. Yes, it was a finish. But, I never really considered it a very good effort for myself. Since these races, my wife had not gone more than 15 miles at one shot. The fact that she was about to go out for 17 miles, after ticking off 11 earlier in the night was a big leap for her. No problem, she said. I had some wondeful pancakes and bacon, a little more Dew, and off we went. It was 5:30 a.m. I'd been awake for 27 hours, and moving for almost 24. I was ready to be done.
The last miles seemed kind of dream-like. I was so tired, I would occasionally just sit down in the road for a minute or two. I intentionally wouldn't ask to stop. I thought she might not let me. But, as the sun started to rise I felt my energy rise with it. I tried sveral times to run. But, after a few steps, I would stop. The pain was still very prominent. I told myself I would not risk an injury to complete this race. Skiing is my first passion, and I was not going to give up any of my ski season to complete the race. So, walking was fine. I would just walk some more. Around 9:00, we reached the last manned aid station. I ate some Ramen, drank some Dew (aah, dew! mouth open in imitation of Homer Simpson). My wife said "We just went 8.6 miles in 4 hours. We've got less than 3 to do 8.2 more to finish before the cutoff". Let's go, I thought. I grabbed 4 cookies and a banana, and started to walk like a bat out of hell. I would not come all this way and be pulled the final miles. Or, even worse, finish after 30 hours. How stupid and pointless would that feel?
So, we walked, tried and failed to run a few times, walked some more. At 10:40, we saw the water tower which was at the finish line. So close, we thought. Then, a woman came walking toward us. "You've got about 45 minutes from here". 45 minutes?! Are you kidding? But, there was still time. I was sure I would make it. It was getting warm, and windy, of course. With the exception of an hour or two before sunrise, the wind had blown the whole race, usually between15-30 mph. But the prarie was beautiful, and I tried to stay in the moment. I told my wife that this was the experience, right now. Once it was done, it was a buckle gathering dust. The experience was what I really wanted, not the trinket.
Finally, we turned the corner to the pavement. 1/3 mile to go. As we got closer, we could see Paige's dad, his wife Jane, and our beautiful daughter Ripley waiting for us. In true fashion, Ripley ran out to greet us. We crossed the line together at 29 hours and 22 minutes. I was done! I simply could not believe that I had just covered 100 miles. The idea had been planted in my head for years, ever since I read a story about Badwater. Had I really just run 100 miles? Oh Yeah! I sat down and cheered as the others behind me came in. I didn't realize it until the end, but one of the finishers behind me (who I had passed back and forth a few times) was a runner who had asked to drop at mile 50 (awesome rally Fred Matthews!). He had run the last 50 with another runner, whose name escapes me, pulling each other along. It seemed to me that the real drama at these races is often at the back of the pack.
At 1:00, the runners assembled for the awards. First place went to Paul DeWitt, from Colorado. He set a new course record of 14:30 (+/-). Unbelievable! He halved my time. Second went to Mark Henderson, amassing his 8th finish, including 5 wins and 3 second place finishes. Third went to Rob (can't recall his last name) from California, who was 3 minutes behind Mark. Rob was hoping to break 19 hours, he told me the night before. He broke 18 hours, and by a pretty good margin, I believe. Way to go, Rob! There were many other great performances, including some first time 100 milers, with times at, or under 24 hours. Me? I got a big, gawdy belt buckle with a buffalo on it. I love it! I never wear a belt, but I might have to buy one so I can strut my buckle at the next race. Uh oh, did I just say next race?
Epilogue:
So far, my recovery seems good. I hurt like hell for the first day and a half. It was murder getting back home after a plane flight and a 3 hour drive home. Everything pooled in my legs and feet. After 4 days, I'm feeling pretty well, muscularly. My left leg is still a bit tender in the calf and knee area. Now, I plan to mostly sit around for a few weeks and pray for snow.
I certainly had many thoughts that I might have been crazy to attempt a 100 miler, just 7 weeks after my first 50 (more on the 'first 50' later). But, I felt good, no injuries and good recovery. I ran a 6 hour race in Frisco, CO, just 3 weeks before Heartland, and ran a PR for every distance up to 36 miles, with excellent recovery. I reasoned that Lean Horse and Frisco were excellent training runs for a 100. I will also interject that I have spent many hours hiking in the mountains in the last several years. During the last two years, I averaged 25-35 mpw on very rugged terrain, often at high altitude, and around 65-75 days a year on skis for as long as I can remember. So, I wasn't exactly starting from scratch. However, I didn't start adding much running to the mix until July of this year.
We arrived on Thursday night with twice as much luggage as we had taken on a 2 month trip to Australia. What if I need this, or that? We had a great pre-race meal in Cassoday and met Jeff Cumblidge, who we had seen at Lean Horse, where he was doing his first 50k. Our daughters had a great time playing together, but his kids were with Grandma for this one. Bummer. He would step up to 50 miles at Heartland. I haven't seen his result yet, but he looked good at the turn, so I hope everything went well.
After a reasonable night's sleep (I woke up at 2:30, couldn't get back to sleep) of 5 hours, I got up to make final preparations. We woke up our very sleepy daughter (age 3-3/4, she'll tell you), chucked her in the car and made our way to the start with my father-in-law in tow. He and his wife would do some much needed babysitting, while my wife crewed, and paced me through the night. They drove all the way from Indiana to help out, and visit with us. Can't say enough how much it helped. We took a couple of pictures, exchanged hugs and got in the line up. I had tried hard not to really concentrate too much on the race, especially the distance ahead. I knew it was there, but never dwelled on it. I think this kept me in the moment, and surprisingly calm leading up to, and throughout the race. At 6:00 a.m., we were off!
The first hour or so went by quickly. I kept my headlamp off most of the time and settled in next to various runners and shared some of their beam. By 7:00, the sunrise was coming on strong. Nice color from some storm clouds off to the east. There were some dark clouds to the north. The forecast said they should stay there, but they seemed awfully close. The first aid station was Battle Creek. I made a quick stop for water in my pack ( I mostly used a Nathan pack, with bladder, usually carrying 1-1.5 qts.), and a banana and small sandwich. My plan was to eat something at every manned aid station. My only problems at long distances in the past, were not eating enough. By the time my stomach started feeling bad, it was too late to feed it. I knew there was no way I was going to run on Succeed and Ensure for upwards of 30 hours. So, I ate, and I ate often. Felt great!
As the miles ticked by, I remained in the zone. I ran/ walked something close to 5-1. I did carry a watch, a rarity for me. But, I rarely looked at it. I just did what felt good for a run/walk ratio. Of course, the hills dictated a lot of that timing for me. I reached Lapland at 9:39, right on a 13 min./mile pace. Awesome! My family met me there, and my daughter ran out to meet me yelling "Yea, Dad!" Couldn't ask for a better welcome. I had a banana, some sandwich and a yogurt. I topped off my water and headed out for Teterville at mile 25.
This is when the weather started to get interesting. The sun went away, and the storm clouds drew closer and closer. The thunder also got closer. Not the race to do in a thunderstorm, I kept thinking. There was nowhere to hide from lightning out here. But, there was nothing to do but keep going. As I came into Teterville, just 100 yards out, a huge bolt struck close by. I started to count: one thou... BOOM! It was close! Probably a hundred yards away. Then, the first of the heavier rains started. I stood under the hatch back, got some food and water, and changed to my larger UD pack. It carries a jacket and rain pants better. As I left the AS, the rain picked up in intensity, then petered out in a few minutes. For the next half hour, it was a little comedy of putting on my jacket because the rain got very heavy, then stopped. After a few minutes of no rain, I would take it off and stow it in my pack. At which time it would start to rain hard once more. It went back and forth like this several times. Then, the gumbo showed up. The soil was very clay-like. For about 45 minutes, I could not keep it off my shoes! I would kick it off, and immediately pick it up with the next step. I tried to walk on the gravel, it picked up gravel. I tried to walk on the grassy part, it picked up grass and made a lovely type of adobe. The added weight of several pounds per shoe was exhausting. Finally, I topped the final hill and the road started to dry. A few miles later, I reached Texaco Hill. Warm food and friendly faces.
The following 5 miles to Ridgeline was a bit of a low point. I could still manage to run/ walk, but the walking was starting to win. The balls of my feet were also starting to hurt from the continual pounding of the gravel. I did manage to pass a couple of runners on this stretch which helped my mood. Occasionally, I thought " I can't do this for 65 more miles, not feeling like this". But, my wife was going to start pacing me at mile 65, about 30 miles ahead, and was very excited about it. Plus, I had dragged my family several hundred miles to be here. Quitting didn't really seem like an option. I'll just get to Ridgeline and see.
At Ridgeline, I got some Elastikon tape and taped up the balls of my feet, and ate some Prarie Power Pellets. The chef (Dave, I think) was adamant that they weren't beanie-weenies, but a secret blend of 15 beans with weenies floating on top. All I know is they were great. I had taken 3 1/2 hours to go 11.5 miles since Teterville. I had slowed considerably, but still on a 15 min./ mile pace, overall. If I stayed at that pace, I could finish in 25 hours. I ran out for the next 6 miles to Matfield feeling great, and ran 13 minute miles through the next section.
Miles 42-58 felt good. I ran strong, slowed to a brisk walk for the hills, and made the turn at mile 50 at 6:40 p.m. I had passed maybe a dozen runners since Ridgeline and was feeling great. At around 7:00, it was dark and I turned on my headlamp. I came back into Matfield at 8:25, fueled up, gave my daughter a good night hug and kiss and hit the road for the 6 miles back to Ridgeline. I expected to fly through this section like I had on the way out, but found it to be much more uphill on the return. I put on my I-pod for the first time and put it on cruise. It took me almost 2 hours for this leg, and I could feel myself slowing from the fatigue of 16 hours on my feet.
At Ridgeline, my wife was geared up and ready. She helped fill up my water, get me food, extra batteries, etc. I can't say enough about her effort. She would spend hours driving and waiting, just to cater to my needs for 5-10 minutes at a time. Now, she was ready to go out for an 11 mile stretch with me, in the middle of the night. I felt very grateful and humbled. As we left, the road seemed to be a very long, gradual uphill. I couldn't seem to get into gear. Then, when it finally leveled out and started going downhill, we started to run. Almost immediately, I had a sharp pain in my left leg, around the top of my calf and the lower, outside of my knee. I could not run on it without a lot of pain. I could walk just fine. So, we walked. As we walked I started to yawn uncontrollably. I had a hard time holding a straight line while moving. I would weave a little from side to side. At one point, I held on to my wife's shoulder to steady myself while we walked. I told her that I finally understood how one could fall asleep while moving. All I wanted was to take a nap right there. The gravel road would have been just fine. As we got close to Texaco Hill, I said "I just need a 20 minute nap there. I'll just lay down out of the wind and you can wake me up in 20 minutes".
The Texaco aid station was great. I improvised a knee strap with some tape, hoping it would put me back to run/ walk mode. My wife asked the AS folks if they thought a nap was a good idea. They didn't really answer. Probably not, I surmised. Instead I had a couple cups of Mtn. Dew. Ah, sweet nectar! I normally have a can of Dew after lunch most days. My maintenance dose, I call it. Love the sugar and caffeine. In fact, I'm having my lunchtime dessert as I write this. The Dew snapped me right out of it and I was ready to crank out some miles. I kept saying that I just couldn't imagine having to walk it in from here. This was one of my great fears about the race. But, truth be told, I'm a better walker/ hiker than a runner, so I suppose it was my strong suit.
The gumbo from earlier had dried out, thank goodness, and we moved along toward Teterville. We started to see a few lights behind us. I thought sure they would be blowing by us any minute, but we stayed ahead. In fact, other than aid stations, we were never passed the entire time, even though we were walking. As we came closer to Teterville, I really had to use the bathroom. This had happened about 3-4 times earlier in the day as well. I decided to wait and use the Prarie Potty at the AS. When we turned the corner, I said it would only be a 1/4 mile tops. As it turned out, it was a solid mile. I walked that uphill at a very good clip, thinking it must be just over the next roller each time.
I was a little worried to leave Teterville. I would do this section alone for the next 8.3 miles. My wife would leap frog with the car, and meet me at mile 83 for the final push to the finish. I wasn't sure I could keep my motivation going. I saw some folks come in just behind me who looked pretty bad. I figured I felt better than them. If they could keep it going so could I. My God! Another 25 miles. Let's see... at wallking speed? No, I couldn't think it. I was well ahead of cutoffs, about an hour and a half. That was all that mattered. Then, the weirdest thing happened. I put on the I-pod again. Let's see.. Devo! Yeah, that's the ticket. I put on the first song, Uncontrollable Urge. I was pumped. I started running ! I was running fast. I was probably running an 8 min./ mile pace, and I didn't feel any pain. I had bounced back, baby. Then, the song ended, the music got slower. I tried to get back to a reasonable pace, but the pain was back. It was ridiculous. I had run incredibly fast and pain free for 4 minutes and it was over now. Adrenaline is an amazing thing. But, apparently, I was running out of it now. I was once again reduced to a brisk walk. So, on I walked.
At Lapland, I met my wife again. She had gotten 2 hours sleep and was ready as ever. I should mention that my wife had done her first marathon in 1999. We had both done a 50 miler during that same period. We both finished officially. But, our time was something like 27 hours. It snowed 8 inches during the race and by 12 hours (and 40-44 miles) we were both done. However, because they were running a 100 miler at the same time, we came back to finish our laps the next day. Yes, it was a finish. But, I never really considered it a very good effort for myself. Since these races, my wife had not gone more than 15 miles at one shot. The fact that she was about to go out for 17 miles, after ticking off 11 earlier in the night was a big leap for her. No problem, she said. I had some wondeful pancakes and bacon, a little more Dew, and off we went. It was 5:30 a.m. I'd been awake for 27 hours, and moving for almost 24. I was ready to be done.
The last miles seemed kind of dream-like. I was so tired, I would occasionally just sit down in the road for a minute or two. I intentionally wouldn't ask to stop. I thought she might not let me. But, as the sun started to rise I felt my energy rise with it. I tried sveral times to run. But, after a few steps, I would stop. The pain was still very prominent. I told myself I would not risk an injury to complete this race. Skiing is my first passion, and I was not going to give up any of my ski season to complete the race. So, walking was fine. I would just walk some more. Around 9:00, we reached the last manned aid station. I ate some Ramen, drank some Dew (aah, dew! mouth open in imitation of Homer Simpson). My wife said "We just went 8.6 miles in 4 hours. We've got less than 3 to do 8.2 more to finish before the cutoff". Let's go, I thought. I grabbed 4 cookies and a banana, and started to walk like a bat out of hell. I would not come all this way and be pulled the final miles. Or, even worse, finish after 30 hours. How stupid and pointless would that feel?
So, we walked, tried and failed to run a few times, walked some more. At 10:40, we saw the water tower which was at the finish line. So close, we thought. Then, a woman came walking toward us. "You've got about 45 minutes from here". 45 minutes?! Are you kidding? But, there was still time. I was sure I would make it. It was getting warm, and windy, of course. With the exception of an hour or two before sunrise, the wind had blown the whole race, usually between15-30 mph. But the prarie was beautiful, and I tried to stay in the moment. I told my wife that this was the experience, right now. Once it was done, it was a buckle gathering dust. The experience was what I really wanted, not the trinket.
Finally, we turned the corner to the pavement. 1/3 mile to go. As we got closer, we could see Paige's dad, his wife Jane, and our beautiful daughter Ripley waiting for us. In true fashion, Ripley ran out to greet us. We crossed the line together at 29 hours and 22 minutes. I was done! I simply could not believe that I had just covered 100 miles. The idea had been planted in my head for years, ever since I read a story about Badwater. Had I really just run 100 miles? Oh Yeah! I sat down and cheered as the others behind me came in. I didn't realize it until the end, but one of the finishers behind me (who I had passed back and forth a few times) was a runner who had asked to drop at mile 50 (awesome rally Fred Matthews!). He had run the last 50 with another runner, whose name escapes me, pulling each other along. It seemed to me that the real drama at these races is often at the back of the pack.
At 1:00, the runners assembled for the awards. First place went to Paul DeWitt, from Colorado. He set a new course record of 14:30 (+/-). Unbelievable! He halved my time. Second went to Mark Henderson, amassing his 8th finish, including 5 wins and 3 second place finishes. Third went to Rob (can't recall his last name) from California, who was 3 minutes behind Mark. Rob was hoping to break 19 hours, he told me the night before. He broke 18 hours, and by a pretty good margin, I believe. Way to go, Rob! There were many other great performances, including some first time 100 milers, with times at, or under 24 hours. Me? I got a big, gawdy belt buckle with a buffalo on it. I love it! I never wear a belt, but I might have to buy one so I can strut my buckle at the next race. Uh oh, did I just say next race?
Epilogue:
So far, my recovery seems good. I hurt like hell for the first day and a half. It was murder getting back home after a plane flight and a 3 hour drive home. Everything pooled in my legs and feet. After 4 days, I'm feeling pretty well, muscularly. My left leg is still a bit tender in the calf and knee area. Now, I plan to mostly sit around for a few weeks and pray for snow.
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