For the 4^th time, I traveled to the Lake Tahoe area and ran in the Tahoe Rim Trail 100.  This race keeps drawing me back to it because of its beauty, challenge, and single track trails.  The course runs up along the ridges on the east portion of the lake above Incline Village.  This year they added a new challenging twist.  The course needed to be altered because of a permit problem, so we were able to run on new trails for the race, including a brutal climb straight up a ski resort run.

I understood that the new section would involve some pretty intense heat during the afternoon as we descended down to the Diamond Peak ski lodge.  To prepare, I concentrated on more heat training during the few weeks before the race.  Instead of mostly early morning training, I spent more time training in the hot afternoon.   As I drove out to California, I even drove long periods without air conditioning with the heat on.

I was greeted by near record temperatures at Carson City, Nevada where we did our check in. I weighed in and was pleased to see that in running clothes I was down to 174 pounds, much lighter than last year at this race.  During the race at various check points I would be weighed again.  This is helpful to monitor dehydration and water retention.   Your goal is to try to keep close to your starting weight.  If you go too high or too low, you are required to stop and could be pulled out of the race.  In addition, this year they were doing a blood pressure test at the start, 50-mile point, and at the finish.  I signed up for it because I was curious what effect this had on me during a race.

The race would start at 5 a.m. at Spooner Lake State Park.   When I arrived at the park, I went off into a nearby dark campground to relax and do my last minute preparations.  Off in the distance I could hear the excited voices of runners arriving.  Usually it is quite chilly at this start, but not this day.  I knew that was a sign of the heat to come, but I hoped that I was prepared.  To run 100 miles, we would need to run the 50-mile loop twice.  The 50-mile and 50K runners would start their race an hour after us.

At 5 a.m., we were off running, nearly 110 brave, crazy athletes.  I quickly joined in with the front-runners.  I was surprised to see two women pushing the pace out front.  After a few minutes I was leading with a fast woman runner at my side.  She didn’t have a light and I could see was having a little trouble, so I shined my light out in front for her to help.

After about a mile of dirt road running, we started climbing up the Marlette Lake Trail, a very nice smooth single-track trail that climbs up a valley to beautiful Marlette Lake.  This trail climbs, but is runnable and this year I decided to run the entire length.  Little by little our front-running pack created some distance on the mass of runners following us in the forest being lit by the early dawn.  Two young male runners pushed on ahead of our pack and I stayed behind a couple runners who were chatting.   They had a good uphill pace but as we reached any flats, their pace was too slow for me.  Before we reached the downhill to the lake, I passed them and then blasted far ahead down to the lake.

So here I was, several miles into the race and running in 3^rd place.  What was I going to do now?  Usually I fade and just let the speedsters behind me catch up and pass.   But on this day I was feeling great in the still cool temperatures, so I decided to try running like a front-runner for awhile.  In past years I would walk much of the steeper dirt roads ahead taking me up to the Hobart aid station.  No so today, I ran hard, quite hard.  As I was climbing up above the lake I could hear whoops of runners behind finally reaching the lake.  On long straight stretches or hills, I would look behind and could not see anyone close behind.   Ahead of me, I could only see two sets of foot prints.  (Turns out that neither of these two would finish the race.) This was great fun!   I arrived at the Hobart aid station (mile 6) at 1:11.  A runner ahead of me had just left the station as I arrived.  My stop was quick and I continued on ahead keeping that runner in my sights as we climbed up Marlette Peak.  My uphill strength was great and I kept the run going strong as I ascended above the tree line exposing amazing views of Marlette Lake and soon also massive Lake Tahoe.  Far down below I could see many other runners arriving to Hobart.

It felt rather odd at this point in the race to be so spread out from the others, but I thrived on the feeling.   After climbing over a series of high ridges, the trail plunges through forest switch-backs toward the next aid station at Tunnel Creek.  I really enjoy this section because it is fairly technical but you can really push the speed.

The only snow crossing

I arrived at Tunnel Creek (mile 11) alone at 1:58.  There was no sign of any runners ahead or behind.  It was pretty funny to get all that personal attention from all the kind volunteers waiting for the big crowds to arrive.  The lady who seemed to be in charge gave me some help filling my bottles and grabbing some food.  She could tell that I was in an awful hurry and said, “Chill out, it will be a long day.”  I just smiled.  For me, it was a race, not a run.  Off I went.

The next section is dreaded by most.  It is a loop that descends steeply without switch-backs and make a giant loop in a valley to a historic house called Red House.   For those far behind, the temperatures at this lower elevation would be much hotter, but for me up front, it was still nice and cool.   As I ran toward the steep hill, I could hear cheers behind me as other runners arrived to the station.  I wanted to keep my 3^rd place for awhile more.   Perhaps I was going out too fast?  My strategy seems sound, I would run fast while it was still cool, back of in the heat, and then pick it up again during the cooler night.

During the Red House loop I was astonished that I could run the uphill sections very strong and fast.  Usually I would walk much of this.  This was great.  After reaching Red House, I could see across the narrow valley, a runner behind me.  He was moving fast and gaining.  The return trip from Red House is enjoyable because it follows a pipeline road that is very runnable with a steady incline.   During that stretch the tall runner finally caught up and passed me.  I decided to stay at a comfortable pace and watched him disappear ahead of me.   During the tough, steep climb back out of the valley, several other runners caught up.  Coming toward us were the front-running 50-mile and 50K runners blasting down the trail.  They had started and hour after us.

Completing my Red House loop, I arrived back at Tunnel Creek (mile 17.3) in about 6^th place at 3:12.  I was at an amazing 18 minutes ahead of my last year’s pace.   During the next section, it started to get warmer and I backed off somewhat, now through with my front-runner adventure.   I knew there was a long race ahead so I needed to pull myself together and maintain.   Other runners were already having a terrible time.  Mike Place, a friend from Utah, saw his race end at Tunnel Creek because his weight was already down 12 pounds and he couldn’t stop throwing up.   My weight was at about 173, only down a pound.   I ran with two bottles, one with Ensure and one with water.   I concentrated hard to keep drinking and cooling myself off with the water.

I was now back on the Tahoe Rim trail and climbed up on the high ridge that gave me views of Twin Lakes to the right and massive Lake Tahoe on the left.  My pace slowed somewhat again and I was passed by the remaining front-running pack.  The Bull Wheel aid station (mile 20.3) came much sooner than I expected at 3:56.  The next several miles were rolling single-track on the high ridges where the temperatures remained cool.

As I arrived at the junction of the new part of the course, the leader of the 50-mile race caught up and passed me.  He was flying.  The next five miles or so were a blast as the downhill trail winded down a valley and eventually went along Incline Creek.   I started to have some feet issues as my right heel again started to develop a blister.  I tried to take precautions this race by building up the heel a little under my insole, but still the heel was shifting around too much.   I made two stops to make adjustments.  The stops seemed long, but only one runner passed me.

Finally at the bottom, I arrived at the Diamond Peak ski lodge (mile 30).  This aid station was full of energy because there were many crews there cheering, waiting for their runners to arrive.    I arrived at 5:39 and was in 14^th place.  This race probably has the best aid stations of any race I run.  They have gels, Ensure, great food, good drink options, and very helpful volunteers.  I didn’t stay long and soon faced the massive climb ahead of me.   After enjoying the switch backs of the maintenance road, I soon found myself attacking the steep climb straight up the ski slope.  The surface was sandy, so that even made it more challenging.  Up above, I was very surprised to see that most of the front-running pack was in view, only about 10-15 minutes ahead of me.  Behind me was a guy in a yellow shirt who was gaining on me the entire climb.   It was a terrible grind, with many false summits.  Just when you thought you were about through, there was another slope to climb ahead.

Chair lift at the top

Finally I reached the top of the ski lift and then ran down the other side to rejoin the Tahoe Rim Trail.  At first I turned left instead of right, but quickly determined I was going the wrong way.   Just then, I ran into Mark Swanson who was running in the 50-mile race.  He looked good, but moving slower than he hoped, about 12 miles behind me (I had an hour head start).  I returned to Bull Wheel (mile 32) at 6:31.  Next up was an enjoyable descent back to Tunnel Creek.  The guy in the yellow shirt eventually caught up and passed.   I was being slowed significantly with unusual bloating discomfort that wouldn’t go away.  I returned to Tunnel Creek (mile 35.3) at 7:12 in 15^th place.  Along the way it was great fun to see so many of the back of the pack 50 and 100-milers.  We always gave each other friendly greetings and words of encouragement.

On the climb out of Tunnel Creek, heading back to Hobart, I slowed significantly and was passed by a couple 100-milers, including a guy in my age group. I finally had to stop for 10-minutes to try to solve my gut pain.   I got back on the road just in time to run with Brannon from California who would finish 5^th in the 50-mile race.   I felt better and was able to find the running gear again.  Brannon stayed close behind me as we pushed a hard run up to the top of the ridge.  I could tell that he was feeding off my pace.   At the downhill toward Hobart (mile 40.3), I was able to push on ahead of him and arrived there at 8:38 in about 18^th place.

Next up ahead was a tough climb up switch-backs to the highest point of the course, Snow Valley Peak.  I again felt super and was surprised that I could run up the trail with good speed.  Usually this section takes about an hour, but I finished it this time in 53 minutes.   As I reached the top basin, I looked down and saw Brannon wave to me, trying to catch up.

I reached Snow Valley (mile 43.1), a station manned by a scout troop, at 9:31.   Brannon had caught up, passed me, and was walking down the trail ahead when I caught up.  I encouraged him to run, and he did.  We kept up a steady pace and he ran closely behind me, using me as a pacer.  I explained to him that he still had a chance to break 10 hours for his 50-mile finish if we ran the last 7.5 miles in 1:30.  I told him that I had done it before.  He was willing to try.  Down and down we ran, losing more than 2,000 feet.

As we neared the bottom, the heat was intense, above 80 degrees.  I just couldn’t keep the pace going.  I told Brannon that if he wanted to break 10 hours, he better go run on ahead.   He did.   Somehow I managed to keep going pretty strong and stumbled into the start/finish area, finishing my 50 miles in 10:52, my fastest first loop here ever, in 20^th place.  I was down 3 pounds, somewhat dehydrated, and my blood pressure was significantly lower than the day before.  That was interesting to find out that my blood pressure drops during the race.  But it was still in a normal range.

It was good to sit down.   I knew that I needed to solve my foot problem, so I took time to clean my problem foot, build up the heel some more and get ready for the next 50 miles.  My stop was very long, 18 minutes.

On the road again up to Marlette Lake, it was peaceful and quiet.  No more 50-mile or 50K runners and just a couple handful of runners ahead of me on the trail.  I didn’t see another 100-mile runner going my direction for the next 10 miles.  Usually it cools down during this section, but not so today.  It was still a hot time in the forest.  Up on the ridges I ran into many of the back-of-the-pack 50-milers and 100-milers making their way to Hobart.  They still had a long way to go to reach 50 miles.   I was about 18 miles ahead of the 100-milers.

As I was running along, it felt like I pulled a muscle in my back, and that at first concerned me.  But then, I had a funny thought. (Shows the crazy things you think about during these races). This thought is only funny if you are a Utah Jazz fan.  I thought, “Gee, if I was Carlos Boozer, I would pull out of the race right here and now.”  (Boozer tweaked a chest muscle and used it as an excuse to sit out the last regular season game this year, the most important in Jazz history).  Yes, Boozer could never run 100 miles, he would DNF at the first sign of pain.  I laughed and told myself I was tougher than Boozer and was glad he now plays for Chicago.  Within minutes, my back pain was gone.

Running down toward Tunnel Creek again, I passed my first 100-miler during the second loop, a woman runner moving pretty slowly.   Running down toward Red House, I passed another woman runner with her pacer.  We chatted for a minute.   I was moving very well again because dusk was arriving and it was much cooler.   I wished her luck and pushed on ahead.   I returned to Tunnel Creek (mile 67.6) at 16:17.  I was now in about 16^th place.  A couple runners ahead of me had dropped and I had passed a couple others.   It was now after 9 p.m. and dark.

I had a new problem – chafing. A volunteer gave me some lubricant to take with me.  At first it seemed to work, but I think it actually irritated my skin because eventually it would sting like crazy, very painful.  For the rest of the race I would try everything, but the only thing that really worked was to just deal with the extreme pain and keep moving.  At times things calmed down and I could move fast again.

A half moon was setting over Lake Tahoe.  It was quite a sight!  After it went down the stars exploded above our heads.  I pushed on ahead.  I really wanted to catch other runners.  Finally I spotted a light on a ridge up ahead.   I looked at my watch and then determined that the runner was about five minutes ahead.   The chase was on!   This was great fun.   It didn’t take too long and I soon passed the runner and his pacer.   He seemed to be struggling somewhat.  He tried to keep up, but quickly fell behind.  I would eventually have more than an hour lead over these runners I passed.

I arrived back at the ski lodge (mile 80.3) at 19:21.   I knew that finishing by 24 hours would be unlikely, but I still had a great chance in breaking my race PR by a wide margin.   It was now past midnight, but the volunteers at the lodge were very lively and helpful.  I was the only runner there (which had been typical at every station during the night).  They peppered me with questions, concerned that I was running without a pacer.  Then they discovered that this would be my 33^rd 100-mile finish and that I knew what I was doing.   One lady remarked that I looked far better than I did during the late morning.  I felt much better because of the cool temperatures now.  The guy in charge there was still really concerned about me running alone.  He explained there was a runner who had just left ahead of me also alone.  He strongly encouraged me to catch up with him and team up with him.  I promised to catch up with him, but then I would pass him.  I could see that this concerned guy just couldn’t understand that this was a race and that I had thousands of hours experience running alone in the dark.  I feel more comfortable running at night, then during the day.

Away I went, in a quest to catch and pass the next runner.  But there was no sign of his light at all.  The guy said he had only left a minute before me, but it must have been 15-20 minutes.  I never caught him.  The climb up the ski slope was brutal and slow.  My chafing problem was horrible.  I didn’t want to look up the slopes ahead, because I knew I would be discouraged seeing the long climb ahead, so I only watched my feet.

Finally I reached to top and it was pretty breezy.   I returned to Bull Wheel (mile 82.3) at 20:25, at 1:25 a.m.   I was only 20 minutes behind my planned schedule.   However, things got worse as the skin pain continued.  The next 11 miles were painfully slow.  They took four hours.  I arrived back at Snow Valley (mile 93.4) at dawn, at 24:28, just 13 miles slower than last year.  For each of the last three years, I was able to witness spectacular sunrises from the top of the course.   It was a beautiful morning.  I kept looking behind me, fearing that someone was going to catch up with me, but my fears were unwarranted, the next runner was more than an hour behind.

With only 7.5 miles of downhill ahead, I put the pain out of my mind and ran nearly the entire way.  It was time to finish.   In the early dawn, the deer were out in force.  At times I would stop to watch them watching me, perched on ridges nearby.  It was so peaceful and beautiful. The sun finally shined on me for the first time near the bottom.   Looking behind me one last time to see if I would have to sprint to stay ahead of someone, the finish line came into view.  It was pretty quiet there since only a few runners had finished.  I crossed the finish line in 26:05, a little slower time than the last couple years, but still very good on a much tougher course and in much hotter conditions.   My weight was only down one pound and my blood pressure was fine.   I finished in 15^th place, second in my age group.

Spooner Lake

I had a great experience this year.  I had extreme highs and a few painful lows, but I finished strong and felt pretty good.   Within a half hour I was back at a motel in Carson City, soon showered and resting.  Sleep never comes to me for hours after a 100-mile finish, so after a few hours I went back to the finish line and watched many runners finish in over 32 hours.  I like to watch the expressions on their faces as they finish. Sometimes tears flow.  I gave them loud cheers and congratulations.  These runners were finishing in the heat of the afternoon.  They had to endure two hot afternoons of running.  I only had to endure one.  I was in awe of them.  They are the really tough ones.

So, my 4^th Tahoe Rim Trail 100 finish is in the books.   This may be my last.  I would like to try other July races, hopefully Hardrock next year.

The Bighorn 100-mile Trail Run is billed as being wild and scenic.  The scenic part is well understood, with its vistas, meadows, wildflowers, and rivers.  The wild part is harder to explain because every year I have run the race, the course conditions have been wild in different ways with its heat, cold, mud, snow and swamps.  The unpredictability of the race is a masochist draw to me.   I returned to face the course for the 5th year in row.

Last year, the course ate me up, spit me out in a heap, and I mentally quit the race twice before changing my mind.  I limped into the finish in 33:21.   This year I had determined revenge against the course.  I knew better than to boast, for fear the course would lash out and humble me, but I wanted to respect and conquer it this year.  My mistakes last year were using poorly fitting shoes and becoming badly dehydrated twice. I solved the shoe problem and I vowed to not become dehydrated this year.

At the start in Tongue Canyon, Matt Watts and I sat in chairs relaxing and joking as we watched all the runners going to start area.  We looked like a couple old farts watching a parade go by.  “Where’s the floats?” I asked.  “I think the bands are coming next.”  People just looked at us and shook their heads.  What a couple of dweebs.   Anne Watts promised that next year she would provide lemonade with straws.  How about umbrellas too? I was just trying to keep my mind off of all the work and pain ahead. 

As the start time came closer, I withdrew myself from the crowd to just focus and calm any nerves as I could hear the national anthem in the distance.   Finally I made my way to the start in time to say a couple more hellos and away we went (on Friday at 11 a.m.) 195 runners, running up the canyon road.  

No one bolted in the lead this year, we just stayed together in packs for the first mile or so.  I ran near a couple of very talented local Utah runners, Tom Remkes and Scott Mason.  I knew how fast they had run this course in the past.  If only I could do the same.   I had lofty goals in my mind.   I hoped for a top-20 finish and a time close to 26 hours.  That would be a huge improvement on this course for me, but I was having a good year so far, so I set my expectations high.

The race starts with a huge climb of more than 3,500 feet in 4 miles.  I purposely held back a little, although it turned out I did my fastest climb of the 5 years.  Go figure, it didn’t feel like I pushed it super hard.  

Many runners passed me on the climb pushing very hard.  I kept telling myself to be patient as I watched runners like Tom Remkes and Jody Aslett disappear up the mountain.  Scott Mason and I came into the first checkpoint together (mile 8.5) at 1:59.  He asked about our pace, and I let him know if was typical of our previous years, just a couple minutes faster than normal.   I had been drinking plenty and had not signs of dehydration.  So far so good.  I pushed on ahead of Scott as we hit rolling single track.  

I came into the 13-mile aid station in 30th place at 2:27, three minutes ahead of my best time.   I hoped for a top-20 finish, so my strategy was to just be patient and pick off runners one by one.   Anne Watts saw me coming into the station and offered help.   I let her know there would be no stop, it was time to pass a bunch of runners who had stopped.   I ran right through the aid station calling out my number, “742.”  I then continued down the Dry Fork drainage and focused on the next runner ahead.  It was Jody, the 2nd place female runner.  I caught up and passed her within a mile or so and exchanged greetings.   We kept a very good pace going and eventually she went on ahead as I slowed to eat a gel and take an S-cap.  Last year at this point I crumbled and slowed, but this year I was still running the hills well.

I came into Cow Camp (mile 19.5) at 3:59 and this time stopped to chow down on some yummy bacon.   Continuing on my way along rolling single track, my strategy to pass runners hit a snag when I needed to take a 10-minute bathroom break at mile 22.   I probably fell to about 42nd place.  When I came out of my hiding place, Scott Mason again greeted me.   After that long rest, I had plenty of energy so I ran quickly on ahead determined to regain my position.  Over the next couple miles I did re-pass about 8 runners.

Mud made its first significant appearance along the next stretches which I anticipated.  In past years, I would try to tip-toe around the bogs to stay pretty clean and dry but not this year.  I blasted directly into each and every bog, never caring about clean feet.  I noticed that each time I did that, I saved an enormous amount of time and always quickly caught up to more runners.

At mile 27 the course takes a huge dive, losing more than 2,500 feet in less than three miles to cross over the Little Bighorn River.   By the time I reached the bottom, I believe I had climbed to about 32nd place.   However, I spent a long 10 minutes at this aid station to fix a problem shoe and was again passed by several runners.

From mile 30 to 48 the course does another huge climb of more than 4,800 feet but it is spread over 18 miles.  I quickly discovered that many runners who beat me on the morning climb no longer had an uphill running gear.  I passed runner after runner as I ran probably 75% of that long climb.   I noticed that one runner dressed in red was doing his very best to keep pace with me.  He could never catch up, but he also caught up and passed all the runners that I did.  I was feeling amazingly well and really enjoyed the uphill running.  I was also amazed at the trail conditions.  I knew there would be terrible mud and snow at the top, but generally the trail was in good condition because it had been allowed to dry out for the past week or so.

I passed a runner at mile 39 who was wearing a singlet and had no jacket around his waist.  I knew from experience last year when I also didn’t bring a jacket on this stretch, that this would be a big mistake.  When I reached the Spring Marsh aid station, I asked the volunteers there to get a garbage bag out and do their best to convince the guy to wear it.   I hope he did. (He did!  It was Max Shchemelinin of Bozeman, MT.  He went on to finish in 30:53).

I knew my pace was personal record pace.   The leader of the race, Mike Wolfe, came running toward me, already on his way back, at about mile 39 or so.  I was stunned because I knew he was on course record time.  (He did break the course record, finishing in 18:43, when I still would have 30 miles to go.)

I had never before reached the 43.5-mile aid station (Elk Camp) in the daylight.  Usually I have to turn on my light at about mile 41.  It was a beautiful place.  I commented that I had never seen this place in the light before.  “You must be doing very well, then” was a reply from a volunteer.  The best part of running in the light up that high is that it was much easier when I hit all the muddy, swampy sections.  I could see the obstacles and just blast through them fast and not be timid.

I didn’t need to turn my light on until mile 46.  So I was very pleased.  Near the high point, I finally caught up to Jody again.   She was struggling.  We slogged through about a quarter mile of icey, swampy water in the dark.  Our feet really got cold. I reached the turn-around, Porcupine ranger station, at mile 48 at the 11:38 mark at 10:38 p.m.   This place is warm and can suck you in.   The volunteers are so kind and helpful and want you to feel comfortable.  I knew I couldn’t let that happen, so I never sat down in there.   I finally put on my jacket and gloves for the first time.   I just hadn’t stopped to put them on yet and if I started to feel cold, I had just ran faster to stay warm.

After only a few minutes, I headed back out into the cold and shivered and complained about the cold.  It was below freezing near the top (about 9,000 feet).  But in a few minutes with some running, I again warmed up. I had reached the turn-around in 24th place.  So I had passed about 18 people since my long pit stop.

Doing the turn-around is exciting because you could see how your friends are doing behind you.  But the 18 miles back down are frustrating.   Now in the dark it is very hard to push a fast pace.  Much of the trail is pretty technical with lots of rocks to trip on and I just didn’t want to face-plant.   Oddly, my split times going down in the dark were a little bit slower than my split times going up in the light. (I did spend a little more time in the aid stations)  I returned to the Footbridge aid station (Little Bighorn River crossing, mile 66) at the 17:02 mark. (4:02 a.m.).   Only one runner passed me on the descent, a runner with a handlebar mustache who would always spend a huge time in the aid stations but then come roaring back and pass me. 

Despite my slowness in the dark, I was now over an hour ahead of my best time.   Usually, I’ll spend about 20 minutes at this aid station recovering, eating, and perhaps working my feet.  But today, I decided to make my stop very fast, probably about 4 minutes.   When I jumped up to leave, I noticed that about 5 other runners were surprised and had concerned looks on their faces as they were still taking their time.   Away I went.

Next was a climb of 2,500 feet out of the river gorge in under three miles.   I just did a steady pace and in under 1:30, the climb was done.  I had passed a runner in the process who I had never seen before.  I was probably in 16th place.   Dawn arrived at about mile 68, but the sun didn’t shine on me until about mile 74.  It was pretty nippy.   This was a very lonely section for the next seven miles.  I never saw another runner ahead or behind me.  At times I could see a half mile behind me.  No other runners were seen. At the Cow Camp aid station at mile 76.5, I chowed down on bacon and potatoes fried in bacon grease.   It really hit the spot and gave me new energy and calmed down my stomach.  

From mile 76.5 to mile 84 I got lazy and took the foot off the gas.  I was passed by three runners.  But at the Dry Fork aid station at mile 82.5, I made a six minute stop.  In past years, my stop there is usually 20 minutes to wash my feet, lube them, and get clean socks on for the finish.   Not this year, I decided to save time, stay with my muddy wet shoes and hope that my feet didn’t hurt too much for the finish.   At this aid station, I was in 19th place.   I arrived there at 9:32 a.m.  

The 30K race would at this point at 10:00 a.m. and followed the rest of the 100-mile course.    Anne Watts would run and she greeted me as she was preparing for her race.   She screamed at me, telling me how great I was doing.   I had hoped that I would get to this point before the 30K race started, so I did feel good about things.  She walked with me up the road a little bit and I challenged her to try to catch up with me when her race started.  It would be fun to run together for awhile.

So at mile 85, the first of the 30K runners caught up to me.   It was odd to have company around me because for the past 9 hours I had seen very few runners because we were so spread out.  All of them were so very kind and gave me great words of encouragement and lies about how well I was running. The front packs were fast and I just couldn’t keep up, so I would step aside and let 30K runners pass me.  I looked for Anne behind, but couldn’t see her.  I was still moving well and started to keep pace with the 30K runners around me.

But at mile 88 after a final steep 1,000-foot climb, I really put it into gear for the massive 4,000-foot descent.   I passed about 20 30K runners as I blasted down the hill.  They gave me stunned looks and comments because they knew I was a 100-mile runner.   When I reached Lower Sheep (mile 92.5), I hit my watch and was very shocked to see that my split time since the last aid station was only 1:01, the fastest I had ever run that stretch.   I paused to regroup and put on sunscreen for the final hot miles.  All of those 30K runners I passed went by me during the next mile, patting me on the back and giving me words of amazement for my downhill running back there.

The last five miles is dirt road pounding.  The course doesn’t finish where it started, that would make it only 96 miles.  It continues for another 4 miles into the town of Dayton, Wyoming at a park.   I was passed by two 100-milers.  I did my best to keep a strong run going and re-passed one of those runners.  All my road races were helpful.  I knew how to keep the legs moving on flat roads.   The heat was pretty bad for the finish, but I came into the park and crossed the finish line at 26:38.  A new PR!   My previous best time on that course was 29:00.  I finished in 19th place, 2nd in my age group. Of the 154 starters, there were 95 finishers.

I was drained, but pleased.  I laid down in the shade to recover and watch many more 30K runners finish, including Anne Watts, with some 50K and 100-milers sprinkled in. I ate, washed up and then started the drive for home.  I wanted to drive part way home in order to arrive home by noon on Father’s Day.

So, my 5th Bighorn finish was in the books, my best race performance there.   I look forward to returning.  It is a wild and scenic challenge.

Results here

The Antelope Island Buffalo Run is now the largest trail race in Utah, this year with over 550 runners.  It has a very unique setting on a large island in the Great Salt Lake, where the wildlife is protected by a state park. 

I missed this race last year, choosing instead to run the Moab 100 held on the same date and this year considered missing it again.  But then I got the crazy thought of running the Buffalo Run 50-miler twice, accomplishing 100 miles closer to home.  It was just a thought, but buddy Jim Kern took it one step further.   He asked Race Director Jim Skaggs’ permission and volunteered to be my crew during the night.  Jim Skaggs asked permission from the park for me to run on the trails usually closed during the night.  They were fine with the idea.   So I had no excuses, and decided to go ahead with something that started as just a crazy thought.

My plan was to start in the evening before the race, have Jim Kern crew me during the night, timing it such that I could make use of the aid stations as they opened in the morning, and finish with the 50-mile runners.   The first 19-miles of each 50-mile segment would be a challenge because it is on a remote section that can’t be crewed and I would need to run that section each time without any aid.  Jim Skaggs was kind and arranged to put a water jug at the Elephant Head aid station location before I started.  This would allow me make the entire run carrying only one water bottle.

Course Map

As race-day approached, the weather forecast for the night of my first 50-miles looked bad.  Rain/Snow was forecast, with up to two inches of snow up on the ridges.  I wasn’t dissuaded, simply added more warm clothes to my gear.  As I was driving to the island, there were some pounding snow squalls in the valley, but I could see that the island was being bathed in sunshine.  Amazing.   I arrived at the start/finish line where Jim Skaggs and others were building out race headquarters.  Jim Kern, my crew chief soon arrived and I made race preparations.   It was windy and very cool, but I would never feel any rain fall during my run.  I would see a few snowflakes.

The start

At 6:00 p.m., with no fanfare, Jim took a picture, I hit my watch, and began my run up the hill.  I was curious to know how I would do.  This was a run, not a race, because I was the only one doing this.  I knew that for the first 68 miles or so, I would have no others runners near me.   Without any competition around me, would I be able to push myself hard enough for a good finishing time?  Would I quit when the going got tough?   These are the thoughts I had in my might as I ascended to the ridge- tops that presented amazing views of the Great Salt Lake to the west and the Wasatch Front to the east.

I initially felt strong and fast, but I could tell that I wasn’t starting as fast as I normally would with other runners around me.  But I was fine with my pace.   I arrived at Elephant Head (mile 5.5) at 0:52.  Next I did a three-mile out and back on the Elephant Head ridge.  I had never run this section before and I was very pleased with the views in all directions as the sun was setting.   Far to the north and down below, I could see race headquarters.

This first 19 miles is the most difficult part of the course, with some nice climbs, but still very runnable.  The loop descended almost to the shoreline and then I made a long climb up to the base of Frary Peak.   I really enjoyed the mostly flat return to Elephant Head as it weaved in and out of the drainages giving wonderful views of the valley below.   Darkness arrived as I returned to Elephant Head (mile 13.7) at 2:14.  I checked my water bottle and it still had enough for the final 5.2 miles of the loop.  The cool temperatures (mid 30s) were keeping me cool.   I turned on my green hand-held flashlight and then thought it would be fun to also turn on my red headlamp, giving myself a traffic light look if someone saw me up on mountain.

At mile 15, I started to have problems.   I could tell that my stomach was upset and no longer processing anything.   I threw up several times over the next mile.  I expect my problem was that I had taken in too many calories over the past couple hours.   Or, the problem could have been caused by the antibiotic I had been on during the week.  The night before I had also had stomach problems.   This really worried me and slowed me down.   With an upset stomach, if you push the pace, it only gets more upset.  If the stomach is upset, you aren’t taking in calories and fluid.  Eventually you have to stop.

As I was approached and descended toward the start area again, those there spotted me.  They took out a bright spot light and started to flash it toward me.  I flashed my green light in return.  I could hear cheers.  Very cool!   I arrived (mile 18.9) at 3:08.  Despite my problem, I was still on a good pace.   Jim Kern was there with his car and all my supplies.   My mind was really fuzzy and I had difficulty answering questions and started looking for things in the wrong place.  Somehow I had to pull out of this.  I ditched taking in Ensure and switched to Heed.   I put on another layer, a warm hat and took my warmer gloves with me.  Jim Kern was ready to start crewing me near the locations where the aid stations would be in the morning.  There were some very enthusiastic guys having a lot of fun at race headquarters.  They peppered me with questions and just couldn’t believe I was doing something so crazy.   It was pretty crazy.

On the road again, and still feeling terrible, I pushed ahead.  Jim greeted me at two spots in the next few miles, but I didn’t need anything.  He offered me some candy, but I knew I would just throw it up.  My stomach was now cramping. I did my very best to keep my pace up.   I discovered some mileage signs along the trail and they were very helpful to motivate me to keep my pace up.   I managed to run at a 10-minute-mile pace for a few miles.   The view of the city lights across the bay to the east was incredible.  This was something none of the runners would experience on the next day.

Getting soup at Jim's mobile aid station

I arrived at Lower Frary (mile 27) at 4:52.  I was still a few minutes ahead of my pace goal, but I was a mess.   I knew I had to recover.   Jim let me sit in the car, out of the cold.   The warm potato soup I brought in a thermos seemed to help.  Jim offered to refill my bottle with Poweraid.  That would be very helpful to again switch to something else.   There was a porto-potty there, so I took advantage of it and felt a little better.  My stop had been very long, about 20 minutes.  I pushed on.

Within about a mile, something happened, I don’t know what, but all of a sudden my stomach felt better and the cold Poweraid tasted amazing.   I was finally pulling out of it.   My pace increased dramatically.  I started to have a blast.   There was a bright moon out and I had fun turning my lights out and seeing how fast I could blast down the trail by moonlight.  But I could go faster with the lights, so turned them back on.  It was having great fun until I saw some dark black shapes ahead.  Buffalo!   My lights spooked them and they started moving quickly ahead of my, but not out of my path.  They finally stopped on the trail ahead and watched me.   A little fear went through me.  I decided to take a wide detour around them and slowed down.  Finally around them, I kept looking back, wondering if they would decide to chase me down.   It was an eerie experience.  Throughout the rest of the night I would continue to see many buffalo nearby, dark objects in the moonlight.

Running with crazy lights during the night

In what seemed to be no time at all, I again was greeted by Jim, who crewed me at the locked gate a few miles from the ranch.  He complemented me on my fast pace.  I refilled with Poweraid and pushed ahead down the trail toward the ranch.  All was quiet there when I arrived (mile 32.8) at 6:16.  I was now past midnight.   I turned around to head north and was shocked by something alarming.  I now had a very cold headwind to deal with.   I zipped up my vest, put on my warmer gloves, and pushed ahead.  In some places the wind would really howl, about 20 m.p.h.  But thankfully it wouldn’t last too long or I would be more protected by a ridge.   When I returned to Jim’s car, I asked him if he had been getting any sleep.  He had.  He explained that he was using an alarm clock to wake him up a few minutes before my expected arrival.

My stops were rather long.  Much longer than at an aid station stop during a race.  Each time I really needed to sit for awhile in the warm car to bring new life to my body.   I reached Lower Frary (mile 38.4) at the 7:35 mark where Jim parked the car such that the wind would not blow like crazy into the car.  This time he also had the heater going well.  He mentioned that I was on pace for a 10-hour first 50-mile finish.  I knew he was right and was disappointed because I had targeted for 9:30.  But my long stops were taking its toll on the clock.  When I left, I told Jim that I would pick up the pace.  Boy, did I ever.   Those mileage markers along the way were very helpful for me to make sure I was averaging 10-11 minute-miles. 

Usually Jim would be standing out of the car when I arrived, sometimes with a camping light on the roof.  But this time when I arrived at the next stop, all was quiet.   I had run too fast and beat his alarm clock.  When I opened the back door of his car, he let out a scream and jumped like crazy.   I apologized, but couldn’t help chuckling.  It was now about 2:30 a.m.

I was now north of the start/finish area.  All that was left for this first 50 miles, was to descend down to Bridger Bay Campground and run along a rocky shoreline around a large hill.   On the ridge above the campground I lost the trail.   I would later discover that there wasn’t any trail, it was just a bushwhack marked by road cones that I couldn’t see in the dark.  But I knew I needed to reach the campground, so I set my sights on what seemed to look like campers and tents reflecting in the moonlight.   All was quiet when I arrived and I knew most of these campers were racers.   Jim flashed a light toward me, which helped me find the next trail head.   I made a quick stop, still wanting to break 10 hours for the first 50.

The trail around the mountain was the only section of the course with rocks and they were big rocks.  It was tough to keep a fast pace going.  Finally I made my way around and could see the lights of the start/finish area a couple miles away.   I kept checking my watch and pushed my pace.   As I approached the finish, I took inventory and was amazed at how well I felt.  I really didn’t feel like I had just run 50 miles.  I was in the right frame of mind to continue toward my 100-mile goal.  I returned at 9:59.  It was 4:00 a.m., two hours before the 50-mile race start.  Jim Skaggs was busy at work preparing for the crowds to arrive.

After another long stop, I bid the two Jims goodbye and started again to climb up to the ridges.   Jim Kern had really been a trooper to help me during the night.  He would now have several hours to sleep before the start of his 50k race at 8:00 a.m.  As I started my climb, immediately my stomach again rebelled.   My pace slowed to a crawl as all the same pains came back.  I eventually took in more salt hoping that it would solve the problem.  I watched the lights far below and could see many racer car lights driving on the causeway toward the island.   I really had wanted to make good advantage of this 1:45 head-start I had on the rest of the 50-mile field, but I knew it was shrinking.   It took me over 30 minutes longer to arrive to Elephant Head compared to the last evening.   But thankfully, the Heed in my bottle started to taste fantastic.  My stomach again recovered and I pulled out of it.

I really enjoyed running out along Elephant Head again because I would watch all the activity of lights several miles away at race headquarters.   Cars were driving all over and headlamps were flashing around.   I flashed my green light over and over again towards the runners, hoping someone could see it up on the dark mountain.  (Sure enough, Jim Skaggs commented that he could see my light).  My urgency for a fast pace just wasn’t there, I was enjoying the early morning.  But at 6:00 a.m., I thought about all the runners who were now chasing me.  That inspired me to work harder.   At about 6:10 a.m., I was back at the Elephant aid station location.  There still was no one there to set it up.  Runners would be arriving in just 30 minutes.  I filled up my bottle with the water that had been dropped there and continued on the five-mile loop to the south.

Dawn arrived.  I turned my flashlight off only a mile away from the location where I turned it on the night before.  I had traveled 49 miles between dusk and dawn.   Soon Elephant Head could be seen a mile away.  I could see runners along the ridge and down in the valley, like ants chasing after me.  I ran along a short section where some runners came toward me.  Half of them greeted me by name.  I could tell that some knew what I was doing, because they would say, “You are nuts.”

When I arrived at the aid station it was a very busy place.  I saw confused looks by the aid station volunteers as they looked at me, taking down my number.  I told them to not worry about me, that I was on my second 50, not in the race.   That made them even more confused and I started getting a ton of questions.  It was pretty funny.   I continued on and all was quiet on the trail again.   As I made my way around the valley, I wondered where the front-runners were.  I kept looking across the valley for any sign of them chasing me, but just couldn’t spy them.   I really wanted to return to the start before the 50K started at 8:00 a.m., but again my stomach was in knots and I had to slow down.   I reached the trail junction just in time to see the last of the 50K walkers only 20 yards away on the trail above.  I thought I saw Jim Kern, yelled “Hey Jim” but it must not have been him.

I reached the start/finish aid station (mile 68.9) at about 14:15.  It had taken me 4:15 to do that 19-mile loop.  Yesterday it had taken me only 3:05.   An aid station volunteer made some comment that I was “only” an early starter, not a front running.  Jim Skaggs was there, and corrected her.  He said I  should receive special attention, that I was a 100-miler.  That got their attention.  As I was filling my water, the two front-runners arrived.   Wow, they had done that loop in about 2:20 or so.  They were flying!

After I left the station, I was greeted by buddy Jon Allen who would run in the 25K starting at 10:00 a.m.  He escorted me to my car and helped me transition to what I needed for the day ahead.  I peeled off one layer, took off the warm hat, ditched the lights, changed my shoes, and put on sunscreen. 

Jon gave me great words of encouragement and took a picture of me heading out.   Other front-runners soon caught up to me and a couple knew who I was and what I was attempting.  

Each time a runner caught up, I did my best to keep up for awhile.  Soon, I just started blending in with the other runners.  On the out-and-back to the trailhead, I could see which runners were on my tail.   Some of the runners didn’t know that I was on my second 50 and wondered why my pace was slowing.  Each time I would explain and they would leave flabbergasted.   On the section with the mile markers, I kept up a very good pace, again clocking 10-11 minute-miles. I found a good song on my MP3 that always gets me going fast.  This helped me to keep right up with these runners near the front of the pack.  In fact at times I would start catching the runners ahead of me.   How cool was this?  I was keeping up with guys that would finish in under 9 hours.

But my pace eventually slowed down.  On the last stretch to the ranch I ran out of water and started to become dehydrated.  I also had not been eating enough.  I remember Chad Carson catching up, wondering why I was dressed so warm?   I hadn’t really noticed.  But I was glad I still had warm clothes on because again when I would turn back from the ranch, a cold headwind would really cool me down.  I arrived at the ranch (mile 82.8) at about 17:45, 11:45 a.m.

Everything came crashing down shortly after I left the ranch.   The stomach again went south and I went into a major bonk.  All I could do was walk slowly up the trail.  Dozens of runners came toward me or passed me, asking if I was OK.  Most of them had no idea that I was on mile 84 instead of mile 34.  Finally, I had no choice but to lie down on the soft warm grass near the side of the trail.  My respiration was out of control and my stomach felt like it had gone through a meat grinder.  After a few minutes, I no longer felt like I was going to die.  I closed my eyes and enjoyed the first real rest in over 18 hours.   I picked myself up again, but over the next couple miles again had to lay down several times, taking up a total of about 20 minutes.   I looked at my watch and sadly concluded that I would probably finish in over 24 hours.

Starting to feel better

Some very kind runners I knew would always stop and offer assistance.  Some knew what I was doing, others didn’t.  Many offered me anything they carried.  Finally, after take three S-caps and drinking plenty, I rapidly recovered.   I was running again.   During that episode, I was probably passed by 30-40 runners.  I was now running near those who would finish in around 10 hours for their 50.  I knew I should be able to keep up with this group, so I did. 

After I arrived at Lower Frary, Cory Johnson arrived.   He yelled out, “Does everyone know what Davy is doing?”   It was fun to talk with several runners about my crazy 100-mile quest.  Well, after Cory’s announcement, I couldn’t be a slacker.  For the next several miles I led a pack of about eight runners and was able to put some big distances on them.   But at about mile 92, I started to slow down again.  I couldn’t find the motivation.    Julie Nelson was very kind to me at the aid station at mile 93.5, and had me take more S-caps.  Cory Johnson caught up with me at mile 95 and we had fun running with each other for a little while.  My speed was gone, and I was just now content to finish.  John Bozung greeted me at the final aid station and explained to everyone there that I was finishing 100 miles.

Looking good at mile 96

The final four miles were a real chore.  I was somewhat amazed that despite all my challenges, I was still going to finish near 22 hours.   I know that the key was to run fast when I felt good to make up for the slow pace and long stops along the way.   The finish area came into view.  As I approached the finish line, Jim Kern ran up to escort me to the finish. I was proud to have him by my side.   The cheers were amazing.  I know that half the crowd just thought that I was a haggered old man finishing his 50 in 10:15, but I could also tell, half of them realized that I was finishing 100 miles.    I finished in 22:15:44, my second fastest 100-finish.  It was also my 31^st finish.   I sat down next to Cory Johnson and received congratulations from many that also usually included the statement, “you are nuts.”  We joked that I finished in first and set the course record for the 100.   Jim Skaggs said to me, “you are the first person to run 100 miles on Antelope Island.”  Several joked that I should receive two 50-mile finisher mugs.

I finished feeling pretty well.  My quads were a little sore and my feet were anxious to get out of the running shoes.  The 1.5 hour drive home was a little tough, but I made it.   I was in bed before dark and had a nice restless night’s sleep dreaming about Antelope Island and my wonderful experience.  Many thanks to Jim Kern, Jim Skaggs, and the state park for allowing me to do this.

Times:  First 50: 9:59, Second 50: 12:16.  I believe because of the soft, well-groomed trails there, that it would be possible for me to run a sub-20-hour 100 there if I had a perfect day.

A co-worker observed that I seemed to be more nervous about this 100-mile race than any other recent race. He was right. I really didn’t know what to expect, even though if successful, this would be my 30th career 100-mile finish in five years. My reason for a case of the nerves was a sore right knee. This knee had been scoped in 2004 and the doctor warned me that I should give up running. At that time I was not yet an ultrarunner, and not even a recreational runner. I ignored the doctor’s warning and put 14,000 miles on that knee since the operation. However, after my 83-mile run in the Grand Canyon on Thanksgiving weekend, the knee has been a problem again. Was my running career nearly over? The knee had calmed down, but I just wasn’t sure.

I signed up for Rocky Raccoon 100 again because a running friend, Jon Allen was going to run it as his first 100-mile race. Rocky Raccoon had been the site of my first 100-mile finish back in 2005, when I finished in 26:53. I was very pleased with that finish. In 2008, I returned very confident, but went away disappointed with a 25:38 finish. Heat and foot problems held me back that year.

Could I do better? Could I do much better? I set a public goal of finishing in 22 hours which would be a 100-mile PR, but I secretly believed I could finish in 21 hours.

Lake Raven

The Rocky Raccoon 100 runs in Huntsville Stake Park, north of Houston, Texas. The 20-mile course runs all over the park, making its way all the way around Lake Raven. We would have to run the course five times to reach 100 miles. The course had been changed last year to eliminate two out-and-backs, replacing them with more forest single-track. I really enjoyed the new course much better. Most of the course runs through forest on a nice soft surface. Even though it would be a sunny day, I kept the sunglasses in the bag. Most of the trail was shady.

See the course map.

The weather turned out to be perfect for me. The low was about 38 and the high around 60. I never felt hot and when I was running, I never felt cold even though I ran in shorts the entire time. I did see many runners all bundled up, so it was cold out there for others.

Pre-race meeting

I traveled to Texas with Jon and his pacers Cody and Paul. All three are elite marathon runners about 20 years younger than me. (Thankfully, they never called me “Pop”). They were fun to be around. Their vast serious running experience clear back to their high school days was interesting for me to listen to. On the other hand, my elderly five years of experience running ultras was also a source of knowledge for them to tap into. We all traveled to the race with a level of excitement and nervousness.

My strategy was pretty simple. I set my mind on three milestones. 1. Reach 40 miles in 7 hours. 2. Reach 60 miles in 11 hours. 3. Reach 80 miles in 16 hours. If I did this, I knew I could finish in 21 hours if I still had a running gear in my legs for the last loop. I also planned to go out fast as usual and go with what felt good. I would travel very light, carrying one water bottle, 2-3 gels, and my phone (doubling as an mp3 player). My fueling would be: Ensure, Heed, Gels, a little candy, and occasional aid station snacks of turkey sandwiches, cheese wraps, soup broth, and many cups of Coke.

Loop 1: 3:07 (miles 0-20)

Race morning arrived. The start area was a very busy sight to see as 344 starters did last minute preparations for their 100-mile ran. One hour later several hundred more runners would start their 50-mile race, filling the trail with nearly 700 runners total! This was a big-time race and it deserved special running attire. I put on my coon-skin hat and was ready for action.

Davy and Jon at the start

Video of the start

I started near the front with Jon. I had hoped to try to run the first 20-mile loop with him, fearing that I could not keep up. As we got going in the dark, we became separated. We were being held back by a group of runners clogging the trail so I found a way around them, calling out to Jon to follow, but he didn’t hear me. Soon, I found myself in second place (The first-place runner ran off like he was shot out of a cannon.) OK, I had no traffic ahead of me, so I was content to run in second for about the first mile or so. I kept looking back for Jon. Finally I let several runners go by, hoping that Jon was behind them, but he wasn’t. Oh well, I knew he would catch up, so I just ran ahead.

We weaved in and out of the dark forest. I very soon noticed something interesting to me. I was able to maintain my place and even put distance on other runners while we were on the more technical rooty single-track. But when we ran on smooth straight dirt roads, the runners around me had much more speed.

Dam Road Aid Station

The sun arose and it was light enough for me to store my light in my drop bag at Dam Road (mile 6.2) where I arrived at the 0:54 mark. I was probably still running in the top-15 or so. Where was Jon? Next up was a 6-mile loop that became my favorite section of the course. It had some nice straight sections where you could make some good time. Coming back, it winded through rolling forest, coming out along the Dam with a stunning view of the lake. It was great fun.  The lack of altitude was an amazing feeling.   There was so much oxygen to breath in here.

On the forested 6-mile loop

I did experience my first worry. At about mile 10, my knee really hurt badly. I tried all the tricks I knew to change my stride. Eventually it worked and things calmed down. But worries of a DNF started to enter my mind. I slowed my pace down to about 10-minute miles for awhile and that seemed to help.

Trail near the dam

There was a short out-and-back connecting this loop and you could see other runners coming toward you. I saw the slowest 100-mile runners already 5 miles behind and the very speeding 50-mile front-runners chasing me. Very soon the trail was crowded with hundreds of 50-mile runners. I greeted tons of them with a smile and words of encouragement. At times the trail was so jammed with runners not paying good attention, that I almost got into some head-on collisions. I was relieved when I reached the last six miles of the loop which was very quiet from runners, but noisy from the dull roar of cars on the nearby freeway. I was now pretty far ahead of the main pack of 100-mile runners and at times could not see any runners ahead or behind me.

Me on Lap One

When I reached the Park Road aid station, I saw Cody and Paul, who cheered me on. I’m sure they had the same question, “Where was Jon?” I wasn’t supposed to be ahead of him.

Along the lake returning to the start/finish

I finished the loop without any problems in 3:07.  I was in 33rd place.  I changed into a short-sleeve shirt, ditched the coon-skin hat, and was on my way again. Jon had arrived and was being crewed by Cody and Paul as I left. I was relieved to see that he was doing fine. (Bathroom breaks had been plaguing him.)

Me with the coonskin hat

Loop 2: 3:38 (miles 20-40) 

I charged on ahead, hoping Jon would soon catch up. Now, I could see all the runners behind me for the first three miles of the Loop. Matt Watts and other Colorado friends were about 40 minutes behind. Everyone seemed to have smiles on their faces, enjoying the day.

My pace seemed much slower now, but around mile 25, I felt incredible. I was pleased to be able to run with Larry Hall (running the 50) for a little while. At that point my legs felt great. On the 6-mile loop I was able to find some amazing speed, re-passing several runners.  

Jon Allen

Finally around mile 32, Jon caught up! It was good to see him, but the time to run together had passed. We both were focused on keeping our pace going the best we could. Jon eventually disappeared up the trail. I would see him next as I was completing the loop, when he was already on Loop 3, about 7 minutes ahead of me.  I came in at 6:45, in 43rd place.

start/finish area

Loop 3: 4:20 (mile 40-60)

I finished Loop 2 at 6:45. I was pleased to see I reached my first milestone, 40 miles in 7 hours. But I needed to solve my main problem and took a 10-minute bathroom break. I was away again before the 7-hour mark. I knew that Jon was now far ahead. I continued on and could see that Matt and other friends were now about 6 miles behind. Could I keep the lead? I knew that quick aid station stops would be an important factor. All race, I had very speedy stops. For the first three loops I didn’t stop at all at the Nature Center and Park Road aid stations. My other stops were only a couple minutes. I noticed with those fast stops, I would catch up with other runners who had passed me.

Loop 3 felt like a struggle. The afternoon wasn’t too warm, but I still struggled to find the same speed. I was doing the best I could to hang on. At one point, I threw up and then immediately started running, feeling better. I caught up to a runner ahead and he said, “Didn’t you just throw up back there? And you are running fast again?” I laughed and told him that sometimes you just have to start to the stomach over again. I believe I reached the 50-mile mark in a sub-9-hour time, probably the fastest I have run that distance.

I started singing with my MP3. I guess a woman runner behind me had been listening for some time. Later at an aid station she said, “I really enjoyed your singing. You couldn’t hear, but I was singing harmony to ‘You are my sunshine.’” Pretty funny that someone could actually figure out what I was singing. My singing really helped me calm down and find a good quick pace.

I saw Cody at the Park Road aid station and he reported that Jon was about 45 minutes ahead of me.

Cody and Paul out for a run while waiting for Jon

During the final six miles of the loop, I set my sights to keep up with two fast-moving women runners. I struggled for a couple miles but then found new-found energy and really blasted fast ahead, especially on a downhill near the power lines. But they caught up when I blundered near the lake. I ran right past a “Wrong way” sign and started crossing over the end of the lake on a boardwalk bridge. Finally I noticed that nothing looked familiar, so I backtracked, feeling like a fool, hoping that no one noticed.

I leap-frogged this PR guy for hours

I saw Jon now running toward me with Paul. It was good to see them. Jon was still about 45 minutes ahead. I finished Loop 3 at the 11:05 mark with still an hour more of daylight left. I was five minutes behind my schedule, but doing just fine, now in 51st place.  It still felt warm, so I just put a jacket around my waist and put a headlamp in a pocket. My bright flashlight was 6.2 miles ahead at Dam Road. Could I make it there before dark? I would try hard.

Me finishing up Lap 3

Loop 4: 4:44 (miles 60-80)

Loop 4 was incredible. My spirits were up, and my legs felt great. As the sun went down, it became cooler. I always feel a ton better near dusk. But I knew, that often after dusk, I get a bad bonk. So this time, I concentrated on eating and taking S-caps, more than usual. It worked. I never bonked the entire race.

I caught up with 78-year-old Grant Holdaway with pacer, Anne Watts. They were on loop 3. It was fun to see them and I ran behind them for a couple minutes. Grant is a true inspiration. Another inspiration to me all day was running buddy Phil Lowry, back in Utah. Phil had run amazing races at Wasatch and Bear last year. I kept thinking, “If Phil can run amazing races, I can too!” I would increase my concentration and pace, believing that this could be my amazing race.

At about mile 65, runners were pulling out the headlamps. But I refused, wanting to make it all the way to Dam Road where my light was. It was great fun to bound along the technical trail with great speed without a light. I’m sure the other runners thought I was nuts. But I made it.

I especially enjoyed the Dam Road aid station. We visited that station twice each loop. Mike Potter from Texas, one of my Facebook friends, would always be there to greet me, calling me by name. By the second loop, he noticed my pace and asked me if I was going for 18 hours. I laughed, “no 21.” Mike would always come over, offer me any help, fill my bottle, and tell me lies, like I was looking good. This time, I pulled out my light and put on my jacket. It was getting cool fast and I had stopped for too long. But a mile later, the jacket was off again as I was running at speed again.

I was now lapping many runners, an experience I didn’t experience much at past Rockys, but it would continue on for the rest of the race. I would end up lapping about 200 runners. It was great fun to see runners’ lights on the trail ahead. I would deliberately speed up to catch them and blow by them with great speed. It was good for my legs to push harder.

The night noises were incredible. The frogs along the lake were an eerie, noisy orchestra. Several times packs of coyotes started yapping and howling like crazy. It really sounded like some sort of soundtrack out of a horror movie.

On the downside, one annoyance was coming toward a runner who had their bright lights shining in your face. I tried not to let it bother me. My solution was to just pull down the brim of my hat very low and not look up. Hopefully they took the hint and didn’t continue this with other runners. There were several runners who had a blinking red light on the back of their hat or pack. I heard several others commenting how that was very bothersome. My solution was to really speed up and pass them as fast as I could so I wouldn’t have to watch that blinking light anymore. But besides that, the runners were all very nice and a pleasure to greet on the trail. I saw Matt for the last time on this loop, about 10 miles behind. He was still moving well.

I ran into Jon and Cody, who were now over an hour ahead of me, on their last loop, about five miles ahead. Before the race, I had been worried that Jon would lap me. It wouldn’t happen on this day. I was staying pretty close. The plan was for me to call Cody as I was nearing the finish so he could come and pick me up. When he saw me, he yelled out, “Call me anytime Davy.” Runners nearby laughed, it sounded like Cody was trying to pick me up.

I finished Loop 4 at 15:49!! Wow, I had reached my 3rd milestone with minutes to spare. I had climbed to 46th place. I still was running most of the time (no long walking stretches) so I knew a sub-24 finish was in the bag. Could I beat 21 hours? I knew it was very possible.

Start/Finish at night

Loop 5: 5:11 (miles 80-100)

I continued to lap runner after runner. At Nature Center (mile 83), they asked me which loop I was on, “Loop 5.” I heard cheers. It finally hit me that I was really almost done. A runner on loop 4 said, “I wish I was you.” I quickly learned that if I kept my aid station visits short, I would stay warm. If I stopped more than two minutes, a chill would arrive. That was great motivation to keep moving.

When I reached Dam Road (mile 86), Jon and Cody were there, now six miles ahead. It was 17:46, and I really thought I could finish within three hours, so I told Cody to pick me up at 2:45 a.m. It hit me, I could finish at 2:45 a.m.! I had never finished a 100-miler before sunrise. I returned to Dam Road (mile 92.2) at about 19:15. I was now struggling with my pace. Finishing in under 21 hours was still possible but I would really have to hustle. With four miles and an hour to go, it was still possible, but I just couldn’t find the motivation to sprint. (Anything over a 12-minute mile felt like a sprint at this point.) With a mile to go, a runner passed me. We both congratulated each other. I let him go ahead.

As I was finishing, I pondered about how great I felt. I was anxious to finish, but I was feeling amazingly well. I could continue if I really had to. In fact, this was the best I had ever felt toward the end of a 100-mile race, yet this was the fastest I had ever run one. I was really convinced that running faster was a much easier and less painful experience than running much slower. I had feeling of empathy for the hundreds of runners who still had hours of running (mostly walking) ahead of them.

The lights of the finishing tents came into view. I crossed the finish line at 21:07. I had crushed my previous 100-mile PR by almost two hours. I had crushed my previous Rocky PR by over 4.5 hours. Wow! I was very, very pleased. I finished in 42nd place out of 344 starters. Cody and Paul were there to cheer my finish and take my back to the motel. They had just arrived back from dropping off Jon who had finished about 90 minutes before me. Joe, the RD, gave me a hug and my sub-24 belt buckle. Finally I had one of those for my collection.

I assessed any damage. No blisters. My knee was aching, but not swollen. That was the best news. My left quad was quite sore. I had been favoring the right knee, making the left leg do too much work. Besides that, I just had a little chaffing and would add a black toenail to my beautiful toes. I never changed my shoes or socks the entire race. I did a good job alternating between Ensure and Heed, so my stomach never rejected them totally. I also minimized my fluid intake during the night to avoid fluid retention that usually affects me.

Cody and Paul dropped me off at the motel while they went to get us burgers. Jon was resting well, pleased with his first 100-mile finish in 19:37. By 4:00 a.m., I was resting in bed. Wow, this was a new experience, trying to snooze on purpose while the race was still going on before sunrise!

Sub-24 belt buckle

I had a wonderful visit to Texas. Texas is always so nice to Davy Crockett for some reason. I suspect, I will return. Remember the Alamo.

 The Javelina Jundred was held on Jalloween this year.  This desert 100-mile race is run in McDowell Mountain Park near Fountain Hills, Arizona.   The course is a loop format that runs on the 15.5-mile Pemberton Trail.   We would have to run six loops in alternating directions and then run a shorter loop to bring the distance up to 101.4 miles.

 I had never run this race before and was looking forward to closing out my 100-mile race season with a strong race.  I would wear #29, which was to remind me that this would be my 29th career 100-mile finish.  After a strong win at Pony Express Trail 100 two weeks ago, I felt ready to push Javelina hard.  I set my sights on finishing in less than 22 hours.   However, as I watched the weather forecast leading up to the race, I realized that it may reach as high as 82 degrees.   I don’t train in hot temperatures so I realized that the heat could slow me down significantly.  Mentally I prepared for that so it wouldn’t bother me too much when that happened.

The course is relatively flat, although there is about a 1,000-foot total climbing during each loop.  Some descriptions refer to a sandy surface, but there are only very short sections of deep sand where you cross washes.   For most of the course, mountain bikers have created a packed surface that also makes a great running surface.

As far as the climbing goes, during each loop, there is a climb up to the mid-point of the loop where it rolls up and down in the foothills of McDowell Mountain.  In the clockwise direction, the climb is steeper and shorter.  In the counter-clockwise direction the climb is about seven miles long and gradual.   To me, it seemed like the clockwise direction was faster and easier.

My race strategy was pretty simple.  To reach a sub-22 finish, I would need to run loops that averaged 3:15.  However, because of the hot day, I wanted to run the first loop very fast to bank some time ahead of the average.   I didn’t want to run so fast that I red-lined, so I would be careful.

I flew to Arizona after work on Friday and was picked up at the airport by buddy, David McOmber of Gilbert, who graciously hosted me at his home, would shuttle me to and from the course, and would pace me for the last 24 miles of the race.

Checking in

Photos by David McOmber, Sue Norwood, Rajeev Patel

We arrived at the park with 45 minutes to spare.  It already had a Jalloween feeling.   Many runners were dressed up in costumes.  That would give me hours of entertainment to see them out on the course. 

Coonskin Hat

 I put on my coonskin hat.  I checked in fast, made last-minute preparations and was ready to go.  There would be 250 runners starting.  It was crowded, noisy, and full of energy at the start.

Start, me on left

We gathered at the start line at 6:00 a.m. and then were away running down the desert trail.   We first ran through some low-land, crossing several washes, and winding through some low valleys.  The desert showed amazing beauty as the dawn arrived.   I ran immediately behind a front-running pack that included Dave James, Paul DeWitt, and Jorge Pacheco.  For the first couple miles I was running in 6th place.  

Sunrise

 Our pace very quickly pushed us far ahead of the packs of runners behind and I noticed a wonderful quiet stillness away from the others.  Soon, I was surprised that a female runner passed me.  That usually doesn’t happen early in a 100 when I go out very fast.  But I eventually figured out that it was Bev Abbs, a very talented runner.  She went on to be the first female finisher, in 18:48.

The trail took a turn and climbed up and out of the wash bottoms onto ridges with views of the desert around us.  I also had a great view of the front runners.  Around the four-mile mark I noticed that the front four had separated into two groups, with Dave James and Paul DeWitt in front and Jorge Pacheco falling behind.  It was fun having a front-row seat watching the leaders.   However, my front-row seat had a cost.  I had to continue to go at a blistering pace.

I reached the Coyote Aid station (about 5.7 miles) in 48 minutes.  The next section stayed up in the foothills and rolled up and down across washes.   I felt pain in my right knee.  This was a big concern coming into this race because since my last 100, two weeks ago, the knee had experienced pain in the location where it had cartilage repair in 2004.  Thankfully, within a couple miles, it calmed down.   The trail was a little more technical in this section and I enjoyed pushing the short downhills very fast.  

The course took another turn and then started a long gradual downhill.   I found the perfect song on my MP3 to give me a very fast cadence.  A runner had been catching up to me, but as I turned the feet over faster and faster, I left him far behind and he disappeared.  I reached the Jackass aid station in another 46 minutes.  The fast trail continued all the way back to the start/finish area.  As I came within about a mile, Dave James was coming back toward me with others a few minutes behind.

Me, finishing Loop 1

I reached the staging area at 2:15:58 (15.5 miles) in 11th place.   I was a little shocked at the fast time.   I ran over to my bag that I had placed on a table and ditched my coonskin hat and grabbed my sun glasses.  It was time to protect myself from the sun.  

Heading out for Loop 2

It was now time to start the second loop, this time in the reverse direction.  I backed off the pace a little and several runners passed me.  I was now fun to see about 200 runners behind me.  The further back there were, the more creative costumes were seen.  It was a lot of fun.  Even without the coonskin hat, many recognized me.  Some of my friends were already more than five miles behind.  I was very surprised with the long hill in this direction.  It was gradual but very noticeable.  It took me nine more minutes to reach the Jackass aid station in this direction.   The final runner was already more than 10 miles behind me.  I enjoy races that reverse directions because it gives you something to gage your progress with against the other runners.

The sun started to beat down on me and I was alarmed at how soon in the morning it felt hot.  Thankfully because of the loop, we would change directions and the sun would beat down on me from another direction.    I concentrated on trying to always reach the next aid station in less than one hour.  If I was successful my loop time would be under three hours.   This worked well on this loop.  My splits were 0:51, 0:59, and 1:02.

Off in the distance I could see the famous fountain of Fountain Hills, many miles in the distance spewing water up 562 feet for about fifteen minutes starting at the beginning of the hour.   This was a fun feature to watch throughout the day while on the upper portions of the course.

View of course and start/finish

I wondered when I would see the first place runner again.  As I ran along, I tried to predict the time when I would greet him.  I guessed that his loop times would be about two hours.   By looking at my pace, I could calculate within a couple minutes of when I would see him again.   It was Dave James and he was opening up a significant lead on the others.  I was surprised to see that Jorge Pacheco, last year’s champion, was already more than 20 minutes behind.

Loop 2 (mile 30.9) ended well, at 5:10:24.  I was ten minutes ahead of schedule and I knew that this was a good 50K time on this course (during a 100-miler).   I was now in 22nd place.   I noticed there was a huge gap between me and the runner ahead (nine minutes).  But the huge pack of runners was about a half hour behind me. All this was easy to determine with the reverse direction loops.  It was nice to be far ahead of the main pack, but it also was getting a little lonely.  There would be long stretches where I wouldn’t see another runner.

For Loop 3, I knew what to expect and was becoming more familiar with the course.   I was also starting to get a little bored in certain sections.  There were long sections down by the washes where you had no views, only passing desert trees, bushes, and cactus.  It seemed to be the same thing over and over again.  Thankfully the route would eventually climb up and give me something different to look at.   This time I reached Coyote aid station in 1:13.  That was a huge difference from my 48 minute sprint time during loop one.  

I really appreciated the friendly greetings each time from those behind me.  People like Rand Nielson, Quintin Barney, Ben Blessing, and Karla Holgers always smiles to greet me.  It was now in the afternoon and it was getting blazing hot.   I put ice in my hat and in my bottles.  For this third loop I ran with two bottles so I could have one with water to spray on me.   The aid stations were starting to run out of things.   Gels were the first to go.   I tried to stock up, but still would run out.  I’ve got to do better about bringing my own gels.

About half-way through the loop, Dave James greeted me, heading in the other direction.  I knew that this meant that he was about 15 miles ahead of me.  Amazing!  He had opened up more than a half-hour lead over the next runner.  I also couldn’t find Jorge anymore.  He had DNFed, along with Paul DeWitt.   I had disappointed feeling come over me for both of them.  I was managing the heat very well, drinking plenty.  At no time did I become dehydrated.   But my pace was slowing.   I tried hard to run fast down the last seven miles of the loop like I did during loop one, but I just couldn’t keep up the speed very long. 

I finished Loop 3 (46.4) at 8:26:13, in 24th place.  My loop at be 3:15.   I realized how hard it would be to do any more 3:15 laps, which was the average I hoped for.  But I also knew that I had banked more than 1:15 time ahead of that pace, so I still had a nice buffer to work with.  

Near the beginning of Loop 4, I struck up a conversation with Ben Bruno, who I would see on and off for the entire loop.  He was amazed to hear that this would be my 29th 100 finish.  He asked what time I hoped for and I replied, sub-22.  I assured him that we were on a very good pace toward that goal.  He went on to finish in 22:30.   I pushed ahead of Ben on the long uphill and tried hard to keep up with two strong women runners, I think Veronika Swidrak and Kara Scarbrough.   I could tell that my pace was slowing.  Once I got up on the rolling portions, I was able to pick it up.   I noticed a problem with me feet. It felt like I had something inside my socks. 

Coyote Aid Station

 Once I reached Coyote aid station, I took five minutes to check things out.   It turned out that my socks were just wet from sweat.  I cleaned and lubed the feet and then pushed ahead to catch back up with Ben.   The sun was going down and it felt much cooler.  Ben and I really picked up the pace. 

Sunset and the moon

 I finished Loop 4 (mile 61.9) at 12:12:54.   It felt like I was going slow now, but I knew that was a decent 100K time.  I was in 23rd place.  My 4th loop time was 3:46, so I was now losing time toward me 3:15 average loop goal.  I had finished the loop without needing to turn on my light.  When I returned to my bag, I put on a long-sleeved shirt and grabbed my green handheld light, ready for the long night.  

The desert after sunset is an amazing place.  The nearly full moon cast its light on everything and the coyotes would howl and bark to each other.  It was also fun to see all the lights of the runners both behind and ahead.  I could see the lights of the Coyote aid station off in the distance and it seemed to take forever to arrive there.

While up on the ridge heading toward Coyote Aid station.  I was surprised to see a light coming behind me.  I thought I had opened up a wide gap on the runner behind.  I did my best for about a mile to stay ahead but the light finally caught up.  It was Dave James, the leader, on his final partial loop 7.  He was 31 miles ahead of me!   I was able to keep up for awhile, but then watched his light disappear ahead.   He went on to set a new course record of 14:20.

About half way through Loop 5, the wheels started to fall off.   Just as some runners were coming toward me (who were about 18 miles behind) I threw up everything.  My stomach just wasn’t working anymore.   I also had started to feel a bonky pit in my stomach that I frequently feel after sunset of a hot 100-miler.  I did everything I could think of to push the bonk away, eating, drinking, taking S-caps, but nothing was working except slowing down.   Once I hit the downhill, things improved, but it was frustrating that I couldn’t push my pace harder.  I also started to have chafing problems as a further bother.   I couldn’t eat much, and just sipped on a Gel packet for about an hour.

I finished Loop 5 (mile 77.3) at 16:20:53.   I was nearly an hour behind my goal schedule.  The Loop had taken me 4:07.   That was depressing to realize.  But despite my problems, I was still in 23rd place.   I plopped down in a chair to solve the chafing problem.  A dude with a wig came and took my bottle to fill.  When he returned, I finally noticed that it was David, my pacer.  He was in a good costume.   I grabbed a bean wrap, sat down, and tried to eat.   I asked for Ginger Ale.  They were out.  Coke?  They were out.  Gels?  They were out.   I hoped for a greasy burger.  Nope, only a veggie burger.  Vegetarians are taking over.   The volunteers were very nice and tried to help me as I just sat there and looked at my bean wrap.   I was in bad shape.   Memories of 2006 Wasatch came back to me as I sat at Brighton for 90 minutes feeling the same way.   I just couldn’t figure out how to get my stomach going again.  This bonk was terrible.

Finally, I was getting cold.   So, my only choice was to get back on the trail.  I told David that we would be leaving.   Poor David had no idea how to help me.  I was in no mood to talk much and started throwing up again within a mile.   There just was nothing much David could do to help.   I kept appologizing for not being great company. But, it was very good to have someone nearby who cared while I was in such poor shape.  I wished I could enjoy the night.  Normally I would turn off the light, enjoy the moonlight, and try to reel in other runners.   Not tonight, I was just plodding ahead.

There wasn’t much running going on anymore.   My walking pace was still strong and fast.   We finally reached Jackass aid station and I plopped down in a chair to rest for several minutes.  I listened to a couple volunteers debate whether rap was an art, it was interesting.   I could no longer tolerate the sports drink (Succeed Ultra) so I switch to straight water.  Stupid me, I should have tried some Ensure in my drop bag.   I ate as much as I could and then tried very hard not to throw it up too soon.

We finally reached the top of the “long” climb and I could pick up the speed for a little while.   It didn’t last.  I started to become very cold. I had not brought a jacket and David didn’t have one either.  As we descended down into the washes, the temperature would be very cold.   I started to become very concerned as I could feel hypothermic symptoms coming on top of my sick stomach and bonk.   Thankfully, as we climbed up onto a ridge, we were blasted with warm air, at least 15 degrees warmer.   It was incredible.   When we dipped down into a wash, it would again get very frigid.

Within a couple miles of the next aid station, I ran out of gas and needed to plop down on the trail on a warm ridge.  First I tried to lie down on the side, but I discovered that resulted in hundreds of burrs on my shirt.  So, I just laid down on the trail.   People passing kept asking if I was OK.  “Just resting.”   I commented to David that I wished these runner would just figure out that I was trying to take a quick snooze.  Sure enough, the next runner greeted us in a loud voice asking if we were OK.  I even replied, “Shhhh….I’m resting.”   He actually reached down, hit my legs, and told me to hang in there.  That made me laugh after my comment to David.  I told David to let me rest for two more minutes.   We got up and continued to move as fast as I could.   

When we reached Coyote aid station, I was in very poor shape.  I saw a cot with a blanket and I jumped in.   I buried my head in the blanket to get as warm as possible.  DNF thoughts started to enter my head, but I pushed them aside.  DNFing at mile 87 is just plain stupid.    I poked my head out and watched runner after runner come through the station.   Dan Brenden received cheers as he went through.  That depressed me, because I knew that at one point I was almost an hour ahead of him.  Little by little I started to feel better.   I started to enjoy lying there just a little bit too much.   I overheard volunteers telling people what was on the menu.  Hot Chocolate.   That could work.  I asked David to get me a double dose.  Two packets.   It tasted wonderful.  That was a very good sign.  The hot fluid really helped to increase my body temperature.   I was hopeful that these calories would make it into my system quickly.   After about 20 minutes on the cot, I sat up and said it was time to go.

As we continued to finish the last five miles of this long loop, runners came toward us with glow necklaces around their necks.  These were the runners ahead of me, on their partial lap 7.  I was so envious.   As I started to feel better, I again finally found a running gear again.  David complemented me on my pace.  I looked at my watch and reset my goals.   Now it was all about finishing sub-24 and earning that sub-24-hour belt buckle.   If I could finish Lap 6 by 21:30, it would still be possible.   A new problem arose.  My left knee was becoming very stiff and painful.   This was bad.  I had visions of not finishing for hours.   Soon I discovered that the pain was much less if I ran.   It was very painful when I walked.   OK, decision made.  I would run.  Finally my wits were coming back.   As we approached the end of the loop, I asked David to run ahead to my bag to get my jacket and two bottles of Ensure.

I finished Loop 6 at 21:35:47.   The loop had taken a very slow 5:07.  I had now fallen to 39th place.   Thankfully, my stomach was now in working order.  The Ensure worked great and the station now had Gingerale again.  A turkey wrap also worked.  They were out of Gels, but I took a bottle of my Ensure for the road. Our stop was pretty quick and we were on our way again within ten minutes.  

Could I run these final 8.8 miles in 2:15?   I had to give it a good try.     We immediately passed a runner and continued to press the pace hard.  I had David start running ahead of me.  This worked because I did my best to try to keep him in my sights.  We leap-frogged with another runner for awhile and caught up with others.   I looked at my watch and knew I needed to reach Coyote aid station by 23:00.   Once we hit the uphill, I noticed the runners ahead were walking.  No walking for me!  I still had a great running gear going on the uphills.   But my energy level decreased.  These runners later repassed me.  It seemed that the aid station lit up on the hill would never arrive.   We finally got there at 23:02.   I told David that all I needed was a refill and we only stayed one minute.  I yelled to David, “Time to go!” as I noticed the other runners were taking their time.   We could get a jump on them. I downed a half can of Ensure that tasted perfect.  

We now ran on a new trail for me, the Tonto Trail that headed across the big loop back toward the start.  I was very pleased to discover that the trail was very runnable with a nice decline.  I kicked up the pace three notches and we started to really fly!   Yes!  David finally could enjoy a fun run with me. The aid station volunteers had said that there were four miles left.  I hoped that there was less.  I kept looking at my watch.   As we crossed the open desert, I looked behind and saw two sets of runner lights chasing me.   That helped me keep the pace going.  We met hikers (probably runner crews) coming toward us who cheered us on.   It seemed like it was taking forever to reach the main trail.  At about the 100-mile mark, I looked at my watch.  It was 23:25.   About 1.4 miles to go.   Finally we reached the main trail with 1.04 miles to go.   “No problem,” David said, “We can do this easy in 25 minutes.”   Well, it only took about ten minutes.   I greeted many runners heading out for their Loop 7.   I was very glad that I was almost finished.   With only about 0.2 to go, a runner behind me almost caught up.  No way!   I went into a sprint for the rest of the way.  

 I crossed the finish line in 23:46:59, in 35th place.   I was handed my sub-24 belt buckle with very kind words and felt very pleased.   Yes, it was two hours slower than I hoped, but still, I was able to push through a very tough night and still have a very respectable finish.  I again appologized to David for such a rough night.  He insisted that he enjoyed the experience. It was also very satisfying to finish well before sunrise.   As I recovered, we watched two more runners finish after me before the 24-hour mark.

Belt Buckles, sub-24 on bottom

Of the 250 starters, only 125 runners would finish before the 30-hour cutoff.  Unfortunately, this race gives 100K credit to those who finish four loops and then quit.  I believe this greatly reduces the motivation of runners to continue toward the true finish.

Awards for the winning runners

So, my 29th career 100-mile finish was now in the books.  This was my seventh and final 100-mile finish of the year with no DNFs.   It had been a very good racing season for me.  During the year, despite my aged 51 years, I had set PRs at these distances:  5K, 10K, marathon, and 100-miles.   I had broken course PRs at four 100-mile races.  Yes, it had been a good year, but now I’m ready for a little rest. 

Check out these great pictures taken of many costumed runners by Jakob Herrman.
 

 The Pony Express Trail 100 is one of the most unique 100-mile races in the U.S.  It runs on the historic 1860 Pony Express route in the western desert of Utah.  This very remote section of the country has been untouched by modern development, except for the wide dirt road we would run on.  Herds of antelope are seen on the course.  This year runners even got a treat in seeing wild horses galloping in the desert.  Some are believed to be descendants from the original Pony Express herd of horses. 

I dreamed up this race four years ago after doing an adventure run on the historic route.   To me, it felt amazing to be out in the beautiful desert, far away from civilization.  I could look around me in every direction and not see a single man-made structure.   Here I was, Davy Crockett, in the Wild West.  All I could see was low mountains, sage brush, huge ant hills, and jack rabbits hopping away from me.   I went away wishing that I could share that experience with others.  

 For the 2009 race, thirteen 100-mile and nine 50-mile runners assembled at the starting line at Lookout Pass (6192 feet).  This pass received its name because Pony Express riders and stagecoaches were often ambushed here by Indians.   They were told to “Look Out!”   To avoid any such dangers along our long run, we would each have a crew vehicle providing support along the entire route.  This is the most popular feature of the race. Family and friends can witness an entire 100-mile race, and get out at any point to pace their runner.  

Course Profile, actually it is mostly flat

 While this is a very fast 100-mile course, it is deceptively tough with a finishing rate of less than 50%.  There is only about 5,000 feet of climbing along the way, but during the night, with a nice warm car driving near you, mentally it is tough to continue when those low points arrive. 

Early Starters

Photos by Randall Davis, Matt Watts, and Scott Dukas

Nine runners took the two-hour early start at 6:00 a.m.  I sent them on their way, a little envious because I knew the first runners would get the thrill of seeing all the wildlife before they were scared away. 

Phil (yellow) and Matt (white) trying to find the start line

I made my race preparations at the start and by 7:45, Lookout Pass was a busy place with excited runners ready to go.  I, on the other hand, was not ready.  My crew chief, Paul, had not arrived yet.   The plan was for him to crew both Phil Lowry and myself.  We scrambled quickly to pack all our stuff into Craig Lloyds’ crew vehicle, but right at 8:00, Paul arrived to my great relief.  The sun was peaking over the mountains as we assembled for the start. 

Watch Scott Dakus video right before the start.

Looking like a big-shot race director

I counted down the time and the main pack of runners was away at 8:06 a.m.  We were joined by a relay team of eight runners and two other runners going to about mile 33.

The 8:00 start.  Phil in center.

Watch a video of the start 

Phil Lowry (running the 50) and I (running the 100) led the pack through a beautiful winding canyon dotted with cedars (junipers).  After three miles at a 7-minute mile pace, we spilled out into the wide-open Skull Valley where we could see for miles to mountain ranges to the west.   In the 19th century this area was known as “Piute Hell” named after the Indian tribe there and because the desert was blazing hot in the summer and frigid cold in the winter.  On this day, we had perfect running temperatures all day with not a cloud in the deep blue western sky.  The shades of brown across the desert were spectacular. 

Me, leading the pack at mile 5

After about four miles we reached most of the crew cars waiting for runners and were cheered on our way.  Paul had transferred our gear into his car and was ready to take care of me for the remaining 96 miles.  I had pressed into the lead and was followed closely behind by Phil and a relay runner.   After the crews took care of their runners, they drove forward.  As the cars leapfrogged me they would all give cheers and words of encouragement.  I became familiar with each crew car, which helped me understand the order of the runners behind me and how far they might be behind.  

Antelope near Government Creek

Phil and I reached Government Creek (mile 9.1) at 1:11, seven minutes ahead of last year.   What a crazy pace to begin a 100-miler, 7.8-minute miles. 

Wild Horses near Simpson Springs

Near Government Creek, the location of an 1860’s telegraph relay station, we spied two lone antelope watching us.   Last year I counted a herd of 50 antelope here.   Several runners later reported seeing some wild horses at the 14-mile point.  Randall Davis reported, “Perhaps the best part was at about mile 14 when I came across a herd of antelope and a group of wild horses just in front of me along the road. I reached for my camera, and then realized my crew out ahead had it with them. Fortunately, they captured the pictures for me.  In the early 1800s, the pronghorn antelope were numbered in the millions; what we see now are the remnants and the preservation efforts to save remaining herds. The horses and antelope didn’t seem to pay attention to me along the road, but then they moved westward into the distance.  It was a real treat in the early morning. A few hunters stopped and asked me if I was either lost or if my vehicle had broken down somewhere. They didn’t seem to get the idea or thrill of running in the desert.” 

Antelope herd

 Phil and the relay runner pushed in the lead.  I hoped to catch them on the long uphill to Simpson Springs, but they had a crazy pace going.  On this stretch we passed the first of the early starters.  I would slow down each time to greet them.  Everyone seemed to be having a fantastic time. 

Randall Davis runs by Simpson Springs

I reached Simpson Springs (mile 16.6) at 2:23, 13 minutes ahead of last year.  Simpson Springs is where a historic pony express station has been reconstructed.  I continued to catch up with early starters and it was quite a scene to look out and see the crew cars along a stretch of dirt road that extended across the desert for miles.  

Long straight road from Simpson Springs

This stretch is fascinating because the road extends straight as an arrow toward the west for 18 miles across the desert floor toward the Dugway Mountains.  The only variation is the point where it dips down into an ancient dry riverbed.

Phil was extending his lead further and further.  The man was on a tear.  Paul, my crew, would help me understand how far ahead he was, because visually he was now too far ahead.  But my pace was good and steady.   Only one crew (Scott Dakus) from the 8:00 starters was leap-frogging me now.  This meant that all other runners were probably at least 3-4 miles behind.   I knew that I was currently leading the 100-mile race. 

Heading down into the Riverbed

At mile 24 I dipped down into an amazing dry ancient riverbed and passed by the site of a Pony Express station that 19th century visitors believed was haunted.  There were no spooks to bother us today, but I knew that I would be returning in the night and needed to be careful.  I arrived at the Riverbed station (mile 24.7) at 3:53, 14 minutes ahead of last year.   I shook my head in wonderment considering that Phil would likely reach the marathon distance in under four hours.

Soon I had passed all of the early starters.  Ahead of me was only Phil and the relay team.  It appeared that Phil was now about 2-3 miles ahead.  I was concerned that if he extended the lead past 4 miles, that we would have trouble sharing our crew car.  But then, the wheels fell off Phil’s wagon.   Paul gave me word that Phil had slowed down and was having stomach/gut problems.  I was very surprised when I reached the crew car about mile 30 that Phil was just leaving.  He saw me and did his best to keep pushing the pace. 

The long and un-winding road

I reached Dugway Topaz Well (mile 33.5) at 5:38.  I was now 31 minutes ahead of last year.  Near that location, Scott Dakus of Henderson, Nevada, caught up to me and took the lead.  I told him he was now in first place.  He laughed, slowed down to let me pass, “now am I in second?”   “Yes.”   He yelled to his passing crew car, “Look, I’m in first, now I’m in second, now in first.”  We had a good laugh.  I watched him become a small figure far down the straight road heading toward the Dugway Mountains.   Soon, I overtook Phil.  He needed to take a long break to try to solve his problems.

Scott (facing forward) climbing up to Dugway Pass

Scott recalled:  “As the real climb started, I decided that we would try to gap Davy and leave his crew car behind.  We ran the whole way up Dugway and when we hit the top, we could see a good way back.  Neither Davy nor the car was in sight.  This was a small victory, because I was pretty sure that we would see him again.”  

Next up was the only significant climb of the first 50-miles, a fairly steep one-mile road assent to Dugway Pass (5068 feet evelvation).   I could see far below Jarom Thurston’s crew car pull up to Phil, who was moving very slowly.  I wondered if Phil would get in the vehicle and call it quits.  But he didn’t and continued on slowly up the hill.   I reached to top of Dugway Pass (mile 37.7) at 6:42, 31 minutes ahead of last year.  Paul and I discussed what to do about Phil and we agreed that Paul would stick with him to give him aid.  I would take enough with me to run far ahead and probably would see Paul for another 4-5 miles. 

Its all downhill, baby

The next section was among my favorite.  A nice long downhill winding through a valley that even contained trees!   I found a nice downhill rhythm.  By mile 41.2 (Geode Beds), I felt very isolated.  Paul was three miles behind helping Phil Lowry as he continued to struggle with stomach problems.   Scott was now about three miles ahead.   All the other runners were miles behind, spread across the massive desert valley.  As a race director, I started to get very worried feelings.  What have I done?  I’ve led about 60-70 people (including crews) out into the wild remote western desert, a place most had never seen.   The responsibility seemed daunting.  Just at that moment I almost stepped on a coiled snake in the middle of the road.  It too was surprised and only started to rattle as I passed by.  Wow, that was a close one.  We were about three hours away from any hospital.

Paul arrived again and reported that Phil had recovered nicely.  He was now running like crazy, intent to “reel in Jarom” who had passed him near Dugway Pass.  I soon rounded a low mountain range and could look out clear to the horizon across salt flats.  I greeted Scott Dakus, who was already heading back from the turn-around.  He was about three miles ahead of me.  When he approached, I purposely slowed to a slow walk to make him think I was struggling.  I worried that if I was going fast, that he would push harder.  I wanted to catch him. 

The 50-mile turnaround

Near the 50-mile turnaround, where I arrived at 9:23 (49 minutes faster than last year), the relay team who had arrived a couple hours earlier set up an amazing aid station with a party atmosphere.   My spirits were perked as their cow bells rang out across the expansive remote desert.   The turn-around point was marked by a “Slow, Children at Play” sign.  It seemed quite appropriate.  

Don’t mess with this spider!

Paul and I placed a Halloween surprise at the turnaround.  The glowing eyes would be an eerie sight after sunset. I now turned around and headed back, greeting all of the runners over the next six miles.  First came Phil, just about a mile behind me.  Next was Jarom, looking good, about two miles behind me.  Phil finished his 50 miles in 9:30.  He and Paul drove by as I was arriving back at Blackrock and the wild aid station.   I could tell that Phil and Paul would settle in for a nice rest and feast.   I ran right by.  I had a ton more running ahead of me.    

On the way back greeting runners

It was fun to greet all the runners I had not seen for hours.  They all had wonderful smiles on their faces and thanked me for the incredible experience. After three miles, there was still no sign of my crew.  No problem.  I greeted Craig and Matt and they let me raid their food stash.  When I saw Matt off in the distance (I was 7 miles ahead of him), I shouted out my heaving, moaning sound that drives him crazy.  He was moving very strong.  Then I met the last two runners, Pablo and Frank.  They were in good spirits and had formed a great partnership.  Frank looked beat up.  I cautioned his crew chief Hudson to be careful, to take care of him.  They were about 12 miles behind me.

Phil got a ride back with Craig, and they passed me going up the long hill toward the pass.  Phil encouraged me to catch Scott.  I really wanted to.   Later other returning runners would drive by, including some 100-milers who had decided to call it quits. 

Sunset in the West Desert

The sun went down and I was presented with an explosion of stars.  One runner commented, “It soon became very quiet and serene as the stars lit up and the silhouette of the mountains surrounded me everywhere. It looked and felt as if I was entombed in one those glass bowls that you shake at the snow scatters everywhere. But instead of snow it was stars — what a treat.” Without any light pollution from cities, the Milky Way was unbelievable.  At times, I would turn off my light and run along the road with my head pointed to the skies.  Shooting stars were seen continuously through the night.   I worked hard to run the long uphill back to Dugway Pass.  It seemed easier this year but still very long.  I arrived there (mile 62.3) at 12:35.  Wow, that was only a half hour off my best 100K time on a flat track.

After running down the other side of the pass, at the 64-mile mark, I could see the first place runner’s crew vehicle light ahead on the long straight 18-mile stretch of road.   How far ahead was he?  Two miles?  Five miles?  It was hard to tell.   (It turns out initially he was five miles ahead). All I could do was push the pace faster and faster.   It was time to work.  I told Paul to go ahead three miles and that I should get there in under 36 minutes.  That was a good motivator. I think I got there in 33.  I kept this up for several more miles.   It seemed like I was gaining on Scott. 

Scott moving slow

Scott later reported: “Unfortunately, when I had the lead, I tried to run like I was the leader.  I’m good at climbing and really wanted to gap you on the way up Dugway.  That worked, but I started really feeling it just before the turn-around.  I continued running until I had passed everyone still on the course and then had some lunch and walked up the back side of Dugway.  I did some running after the pass on the way down to the riverbed, but at about mile 65 I declared it a walk-a-thon, put on some warm clothes, and hunkered down for a long night of walking. “

At around mile 73, at about 11:00 p.m., I passed Scott’s crew van.  Where was Scott?  Little did I know that Scott was now snoozing in the van.  I had retaken first place.  However, I didn’t realize it because I thought two crews were helping Scott.   I reached Riverbed (mile 75.4) at 15:28, now 1:37 ahead of last year.   I couldn’t find Scott’s crew lights anymore.  My motivation was waning.  I stopped to fix a bloody toe and then was alarmed to see a runner gaining on me fast.  Who could it be?   I was fairly certain that Jarom had been fading back and knew that Matt couldn’t have caught up this fast.   Finally it dawned on me that it must be the relay team heading back.   Sure enough without a few miles they caught up to me.   Frank also drove by, his day was done at mile 52. 

For the last 25 miles, I took it somewhat easy, thinking that I had no chance to catch Scott.   The nighttime temperature was strange.  There were pockets of cold air dipping down into the low 30s, and just a mile later it would jump into the 50s.  Layers on, layers off.   It was a lonely feeling running in the dark desert at night.  But looking behind me I could see crew car lights up to 18 miles away stretched across the dark desert floor.   There were still about 9 other runners moving forward.   Jarom drove by, his race was finished at mile 80.  I felt bad for him.  He’s now DNFed here three times.

My pace was slowing due to the cold breeze near Government Creek.  I wished I had a warm coat with me, but Paul was still a mile ahead.  It never failed, by the time I would reach him, the temperature would be warmer.  I reached Government Creek (mile 90.9) at 19:49.   After three more miles, I noticed the reflection of some headlights over the crest of the road behind me.  There was no doubt, it was the crew for another runner.  I knew it must be Matt Watts.  I did calculations and figured that he must be about 4-5 miles behind. 

I had agreed to use a Satellite phone to call into an outdoor radio show at 6:00 a.m.   So, at about mile 98, I paused for 25 minutes to make the call.   I was impatient and worried about Matt catching me, but when we turned on the radio, the hosts were already talking about me!  It took us several minutes to figure out how to use the phone and then when I called, they said they would call me back.  I waited and rested in the car, working with the phone to get good reception.   Finally they called back.  I wished I could at least walk up the road, but when I did the signal got weaker, so I had to find a place to stand still.   They put me on hold again and when I finally got connected, the signal faded and I couldn’t understand their questions.  Finally, I knew they could hear me so I just started talking.   

You can listen to the interview here. 

After the call, which delayed me at least 25 minutes, I attacked the final climb back up to Lookout Pass.  Now, I could see Matt’s crew car, Anne, down behind me.  I looked at my watch and pushed very hard to finish in a faster time than last year’s course record.  Each time I slowed, I told myself, “You will regret this!  Speed up!  If Scott didn’t finish, you want the course record.”  I was pushing myself very hard, running up that very steep hill.  

At one point three ATVs drove up behind me using the entire road, side-by-side.  They almost made me dive off the road.  I yelled after them. Our biggest annoyance during the run was the very rude recreational drivers who had no desire to share the road with us.  Some would drive by going 60 mph. kicking up the dust.   They disappeared during the night, but once 5 a.m. arrived, they started charging down the road again, big trucks towing trailers with ATVs. 

I was very worried that I wouldn’t make it in time.  I could see the finish up ahead, but groaned when I saw one last turn.   I was running out of time!   I pushed forward with one last sprint. Paul was waiting at the top.

I finished in a new course record time, at 22:58.  (beat it by four minutes).  I also beat my time from last year by 1:28, even with that radio delay. There was no sign of Scott at the finish and I didn’t find out until two days later that I had indeed won the 2009 Pony Express Trail 100.  Anne Watts soon drove up, telling us Matt was about three miles away.  We cheered his finish.  I considered waiting for all the other runners, but estimated that the next runner be five hours from the finish.   I couldn’t get cell coverage to call my wife, so I decided to just head home. 

My desert run was finished.   It was an experience that I would relive in my dreams for days.   Four other runners would cross the 100-mile finish line later in the morning.  Join us next year on October 15, 2010, when we plan to transform this race into a premier 50 and 100-mile race.  To get more information including history of the Pony Express Trail in Utah, visit www.ponyexpress100.org

100 mile results

1. Davy Crockett   22:58:19 (Course Record)
2. Matt Watts      23:31:54
3. Scott Dakus     26:09:00
4. Don Landry      28:05:00
5. Olaf Questereit 28:45:36
6. Gary Stosich    29:18:00

50-mile results

1. Phil Lowry      9:30:30 (Course Record)
2. Jarom Thurston  9:42:00 – reached mile 80
3. Matt Ricks      10:42:49
4. Craig Lloyd     10:42:49
5. Rand Nielson    11:54:00
6. Frank Bott      12:39:00 – reached mile 52
6. Pablo Riboldi   12:39:00
8. Quintin Barney  13:12:02 – reached mile 66
8. Marilynn Phipps 13:12:02 – reached mile 74
10.Leslie Peterson 13:19:00
11.Gary Horlacher  13:30:00
12.Steve Gray      13:45:00 (time not reported)
13.David Loveland  13:57:00 – reached mile 62

Runner comments:

Scott Dukas

Ten miles to go: I was trying to avoid the van as much as possible; I was still trying to just stay on the course every second that I could.  I know how creative an athlete can get when they are looking for reasons to sit down and I hate being that guy.  My crew and busted their asses for me and I wasn’t going to have them baby-sitting me over the last 10 miles because I was uncomfortable.  I knew this wasn’t going to be easy and for once in my life, I was correct.

The last mile: When we passed Lookout Pony Express Station, it felt like a huge weight had been lifted.  From this point, I could crawl or roll uphill and still make it.  Everything was light and jovial and I actually ran the last 100 yards or so.  When I hit the top and was done, I snapped my hat to the ground and stood in that familiar bent over stance that real runners have after finishing a real race.  Done and in the books, you can’t take it back… 26 hours, 9 minutes.

Watch video of Scott’s finish.

Gary Stosich

Running the Pony Express 100 was an amazing experience. There is nothing like it when it comes to your crew. My 22 year son, Aj, agreed to come crew for me. He knew nothing about it and I tried to give him a few pointers as we drove from his home to the start. He hadn’t slept much that night and at mile one asked if he could drive up 20 miles and take a long nap until I got there. I laughed and told him I need him to drive from 3-5 miles and then do that again for the next 50 miles until my wife would get there to relieve him. When the sun came up, and he could see the beautiful surroundings, his attitude change somewhat.  Later he told he me he saw a herd of horses and asked why they would be there. I was jealous and told him he had seen a herd of wild horses. Soon he was sitting in a lawn chair and taking pictures. By mile 15 he was getting out of the car and taking pictures of me as I would come up the road. To my surprise at about mile 33 he drove the car just a mile and ran back to me and ran back with me. We had a delightful time chatting along the way. He repeated this a few more times. He then drove to the top of Dugway pass and when I was approaching he started yelling and screaming at me. He ran down the road and when he got there he told me he had seen a tarantula. When I got to the 50 mile mark, there was Aj taking more pictures and cheering me on. My experience of running the Pony express 100 was a great personal achievement but my experience with Aj during this time was beyond anything I had ever dream of.

Frank Bott

Around mile 35 if my memory recalls correctly I caught up with a fellow runner Pablo who I raced with last year. Pablo was hurting a bit so I got him up and going and we decided to work together and get the best time we could to the 50 mile mark.  An amazing friendship formed in our team effort to reach 50 miles. We pushed each others bodies and minds as well as talked about several complex subjects in a way that you would think we had started our own TED program in the middle of the Utah Desert. It was a blast. Heck with the race we are having way to much fun teaching each other so much thought and idea.

Susanna Lew

I had a FANTASTICALLY WONDERFUL birthday doing what I love with my favoritest people.  We drove back on the trail and was amazed at HOW FAR we had run.  We stopped at Simpson Springs to be tourists.  There were other tourists at that Pony Express Station.  They had seen us and other runners along the trail and asked what we were doing and WHY?

Leslie Peterson

At that point (mile 35), I lost my running mojo, my gut felt horrible and I basically speed walked for the next few miles, during this time we went over the one and only big pass (Dugway Pass), probably a mile of a very steep incline.  I was getting a little down.  At the top of Dugway Pass Jana (my daugher) took a few pictures and I headed down hill and met up with Don a 64 year old ultra runner from Canada, he was adorable, his wife also an ultra runner and was crewing him. He had the biggest grin on his face and was so happy to be out in the desert running that you couldn’t help but feel better.

Full Runner Reports

Frank Bott
Craig Lloyd
Matt Ricks
Randall Davis
Susanna Lew
Leslie Peterson

 This would be my sixth year running in the Bear.  I didn’t finish my first year in 2004.  But if I finished this year, it would be my fifth straight finish and I would earn a “Bear Streaker” award.

Two weeks ago I had a good run at the Wasatch 100 and my recovery had gone well.  I saw no reason to hold back and planned to race the Bear harder than last year.   In 2008 I finished in 30:51.  I have experienced some serious feet pain problems that significantly slowed me down.  For some reason I always have feet problems at the Bear.   I hoped that this year would be different.  My aggressive goal was to finish in 27:30.   That would be over a three-hour improvement and get me a sub-30-hour belt buckle.

I missed all the pre-race festivities on Thursday because I was flying back from a business trip in California.  But I arrived in Logan by early evening and tried to focus on the tough race ahead.

I arrived at the start (Hyrum Gibbons Park) at 5:30 a.m. and immediately could tell that we would be in for a hot day, similar to Wasatch.   I ditched plans for a warm shirt for the morning.   After a few very quick hellos, 135 of us were off and running at 6:00 a.m.   Nobody shot out in front.  In fact I was leading the race as we ran up the neighborhoods toward Dry Canyon.   Andy Holak introduced himself.  I knew I had no business running with a fast runner like him.   I settled into about 5th place and helped guide the runners ahead who had never run the course before.  Twice they took wrong turns and I quickly corrected them.  Finally we were on the trail up into Dry Canyon.  

After a half mile, I was ready to back off a little, no longer desiring to be with the front runners.  I offered to let those behind me go ahead, but they also had no desire to chase the fast rabbits.   So, for the next mile or so, I led the second pack of runners up the dark winding canyon.   A runner behind me remarked that this was a much better pace.  He asked what my finishing goal was and I told him 27:30.  I think he was surprised that I was shooting for such a slow finish and he said, “Oh, you did Wasatch two weeks ago.”  Funny how he thought the time was slow and I thought it was fast.

Finally, just like we were in a bike peloton, I was ready to let someone else drive the pace.   I stepped aside and let about five others go ahead.  Someone thanked me for the great pace.   I hung with this second pack for awhile longer, but then watched them go ahead.    I looked back down the mountain and could see that we were now far ahead of the main pack of runners.

Cache Valley below

Photos by Steve Pero and Jenny Stinson

Dawn arrived and I was able to turn out my little headlamp that I held in my hand.  The leading woman runner caught up to me.  I had no idea at that time that I would leap-frog with her for the next 50 miles.  I was very surprised how fast we arrived at the South Syncline Trail.   It was a relief to no longer be pushing hard up the mountain.  This trail is a fun rolling trail that traversed around the mountain (Little Baldy), revealing views of Cache Valley far below.    I was passed by several runners who were interested in running hard.   I kept them in my sights as we exited from the forest and ran across open slopes.   Sections of downhill were nice, but I still didn’t feel warmed up enough to really blast down them hard.

I reached the Logan Peak aid station (mile 10.5) at the 2:33 mark, three minutes ahead of schedule and nine minutes ahead of last year.  I was running in 26th place. I quickly refilled my bottles, grabbed some food and was off.   I was traveling very light, with just two hand-held bottles and a few gels in my pockets.    

I completed the climb ahead to Millville Pass and then started a long downhill.   My legs were feeling good and I kicked up the speed a notch.  As the trail became more technical, I could see that I was catching up with two runners ahead.   I set them in my sights.   Runner #1 was passed.    Runner #2 was passed.   Great!  I was having a blast dancing down the steep trail.   But then… my foot tripped, and down I went!   My bottles squirted and I fell down on my side.   Runner #2 caught up and asked if I was OK.  I said I was and he went on.   I got up slowly and started with a walk, then going into a slow trot.   I noticed a bad pain in my right upper quad.   Not good.   My right index finger was also smashed and bleeding.    Usually the pain disappears fast, but I noticed the pain in the leg was staying around.   I again caught up and passed runner #2, but clearly the wind was out of my sails.

This was a disappointing turn of events.  I so much looked forward to running the next few miles very fast, my favorite section of the course.   I turned onto Leatham Hollow Trail (a soft winding downhill single-track) and left the runners far behind me.  The trail was in amazing shape.  Someone had done some nice work on it since last year.  It was a trail-runners dream.  I was having a blast again and did my best to ignore the pain in the leg.   At the speed I was going, I hoped to catch a few runners ahead, but never did.  There was no sign of any runners behind.   As I was making fast progress winding through the beautiful forest, I checked my watch and noticed that I would cut it very close to stay on schedule at the next checkpoint.  I could see the aid station far below.

Finally, I exited the trees, came out of the trailhead, and ran down the road toward the Leatham Hollow aid station (mile 19.7).  Cheers were heard.   Jon Allen (later one of my pacers) greeted me along with Paul Petersen.    (Paul had won Top of Utah Marathon a week ago and Jon had placed 6th).   Paul said to me, “Jon told me you would arrive around 10:10 a.m.   You arrived at that time to the very second!”   I grinned and said, “Isn’t that disgusting, I’m so predictable.”   It is pretty funny that I can predict my pace fairly closely.   I was in good spirits.  Jon asked how I was doing.  I didn’t mention the bad fall.   I was generally feeling very good so I made a quick stop, waved to Anne Watts, and was on my way.  I was still in 26th place.

Richards Aid Station

Next up was a boring dirt-road run up the canyon to next aid station, only 2.8 miles ahead.   I quickly discovered that my injured leg did not experience pain on the uphills.   OK, I could see what this meant, I would need to push the uphills hard and take the downhills easy.   I was determined to run every step up this canyon road and I did.   I arrived at Richard Hollow aid (mile 22.5) at 4:44, 6 minutes ahead of schedule.   I was very pleased how strong I felt on the uphills.

Next up would be a long beautiful climb up Richards Hollow.  I could see the leading woman,  Tina Ure up ahead.   I pushed hard and very quickly passed her.  She was having some sort of problem with her shoe.  I recalled how last year I struggled on this climb and was passed by many runners.  No so this year.  I also leap-frogged with Mike Farris.  This back and forth would continue on for the next 77 miles.   I really enjoyed this section.  It reminds me of portions of the climb up the North Rim in the Grand Canyon. 

 Once I reached the top, I ran down a wide dirt road into the Cowley Canyon aid station (mile 29.9).   I arrived at 6:38, 7 minutes ahead of schedule and 37 minutes ahead of last year.  I was in 27th place.

Next up were more dirt roads up and over a ridge.  It was now getting pretty hot but I was drinking plenty of fluids.   The 2nd place woman, Quinn Fitzpatrick was on my heels but I managed to stay ahead as we hit the descending single-track into Ricks Canyon.  This section is amazing and great fun.   I now had another significant problem.  The heel in my right shoe had been shifting around and I now had a very large blister on the bottom of my heel.  It wasn’t causing much pain, but it made me be cautious until I could do something about it.  I maintained a good steady run down the canyon.  Once I hit the bottom, there is a short out-and-back to the aid station.  It was fun to see the runners ahead of me.

I arrived at Right Fork aid (mile 36.9) at 8:06, nine minutes ahead of schedule and 55 minutes ahead of last year!   I made a fast stop, drank plenty, and prepared for the next long hot section.   I wondered where Brian Beckstead was, and sure enough we greeted each other on the out-and-back.   Only a few other runners were seen on this overlapping section.  It was surprising to see how far ahead I was of the main pack.   I was running in 28th place.  

 After passing Mike again, I decided that it was time to do something about my huge blister.  I spent five minutes or so lancing it.   I thought Brian Beckstead would catch up, but he didn’t.   Once the shoe was back on, I felt much better.  

 My uphill run up Willow Canyon toward Mud Flat went very well.  I found some exceptional speed and was able to pass both of the women ahead and other runners.   At Mud Flat I helped a runner who couldn’t figure out where to go next and warned him about a sharp right turn off of the dirt road ahead.

Once we reached the turn, I had to yell out to him because he missed it.   I could also see far ahead up the road another runner who had missed the turn.   He was out of yelling range.  Oh well, he would eventually join back in the course and it might have been a short-cut for him.   Now I was on a fun single track doing a huge sweeping turn through a wide-open canyon.   After sweeping, I could see about a half dozen other runners less than a half mile behind.   I also saw some confused runners on the road who I yelled at and waved to.  They finally figured out the sharp right turn onto the trail we were all on.

I was just about out of water and was tempted to dip into the river that I was running next too.  But instead I just ran fast ahead.  I could tell that I was in early stages of dehydration.   I would need to be careful.  I kept a steady run down the dirt road into Temple Fork aid station (mile 45.2).  I arrived there at 10:09, six minutes ahead of schedule and 1:03 ahead of last year.   I was now in 23rd place.  

Jon greeted me and quickly helped me fill my bottles and get ready to leave with him.   Brian Beckstead showed up right before we left.  Jon later wrote, “It was rather hot and most of the runners were dehydrated when they arrived at Temple Fork, including Davy.  Within a mile after leaving his stomach rejected everything in it, which I think actually made him feel a bit better.  He kept everything down the rest of the way.  The first leg had 4000 ft climbing to Tony Grove.  It was a beautiful leg with lots of aspen trees.  It went well and we pulled into Tony Grove right on time.”  Jon chatted away as we climbed and I really enjoyed the conversation — sometimes too much.  Jon would notice that I would slow down and tell me to stop talking and start running.   We arrived at Tony Grove (mile 51.8) at 12:17 (6:17 p.m.) 13 minutes ahead of schedule and 1:01 ahead of last year.

We made good progress on the climb out of Tony Grove.  Looking back, we could see Brian Beckstead, Roger Smith and Dave Hunt (pacer) hot on our heels.  As we passed a hiker heading in the opposite direction, we told her to trip the runners behind us.  Ha, ha.   As we were approaching the top of the ridge, I decided it was time to ignore the painful leg and foot and go for it.  I told Jon that I would first test out flying down the trail and if that worked would motion him to take the lead.  I would then follow him step for step as we blasted down the trail.  It worked!   Soon we were flying.  Jon wrote, “Davy decided to really push himself on the decent into White Pine.  He had me run ahead and we absolutely blasted down the trail- we were cruising and blew by several people, including the first place woman.  He had fallen earlier and banged his quad, and it really pained him on descents, but he did awesome at ignoring it.  It got dark just as we reached Bunchgrass trail, which is generally a very nice trail to run down and we kept leapfrogging a number of runners.  At this point, we noticed the moon was just setting in the west and commented on it.”

“It is a long stretch to Franklin Basin- 9.7 miles.  The last few miles were real tough for Davy- he kept twisting his ankles, particularly his right one.  And the blister on his right heel kept getting worse and worse.  But he toughed it out and we arrived at the Franklin aid station well ahead of schedule.”   We came into Franklin (mile 61.5) at 14:51, 39 minutes ahead of schedule!  Woo hoo!   I was now 1:39 ahead of last year and in 22nd place.  But my stop was long, 17 minutes.  Jon recalled, “The station was hosted by Striders and had tons of great volunteer and was very energetic.  This was the first station with Davy’s crew, Geri and Brad, who were waiting for him with a Wendy’s hamburger.  They worked on his foot for a while and Davy really struggled to get his shoe back on, he was in so much pain.  I ate some food and took some sodium tablets to calm my quads.  But eventually Davy was set, someone pointed us in the right direction, and we were off at 9:08 p.m.”

Brad had reported the alarming news that he could not find my drop bag at the last aid station, Tony Grove.   We had left it there just a couple hours ago for Brad to pick up.   I was convinced someone must have put it in a truck to return to the start.  This was bad news because it had all my warm night clothes in it, spare shoes, etc.   That really bummed me out.  But on the way out, Cory Johnson offered me the jacket off his back, which I willingly took.  Thanks Cory!   Each of the aid station are in a valley where the cool air collects.  Once you start climbing the temperature rises about ten degrees.  Within minutes the jacket came off.

Jon chimes in again: “This next leg was very tough — the first 3 miles were steep climbing.  We grunted our way up, but noticed the moon was still visible but kept appearing from different directions.  The hill seemed to go on forever.  Eventually we reached some rocky downhill and Davy struggled with his foot, but he pushed hard and kept a great pace.  On this whole 2.5 hour leg, we did not see a single person, though the moon kept us company from all sides.  We reached the road at Steep Hollow and descended to the Logan River aid station (mile 68.8).  This was probably my favorite aid station — they cheered us in, had lots of food, lots of happy volunteers, and even warm towels for washing.”

Brad also loved this station.  “They have big fires roaring, comfy chairs, and good food.  They had a big tent with cots inside and a sign on the outside that said “Logan River Hilton; no reservations required”.  They were serving hot rolls and stew from dutch ovens.  You could sit down and spend a lot of time there.  We saw a few people do that.”

I didn’t really notice all of this.  At that point I was fairly incoherent, very pooped, and struggling with my painful foot.   Brad had returned to Tony Grove again and did find my bag.  The there volunteer insisted it couldn’t be found, but once Brad explained I had been through hours ago, they admitted there were other bags in a truck.  Whew!   I now had everything I needed.  Someone tried to usher me to the warm fire here.  In frustration, I refused multiple times.   I wasn’t going to be sucked into comfort.   I wanted to quickly take care of business and be off.  I didn’t feel cold, but I would be if I hung around too long.   I chowed down on another Wendy’s burger and then was off.

Jon continues, “We ran down a road, then crossed the Logan River.  Davy dislikes roads, but picked up the pace again once we hit singletrack.  This leg was Davy’s toughest last year — he was cold and tired and he commented on how hard the climb was.  This year, though, it went better  — the climb was not near as steep as after Franklin, in general, though there was a very chilly breeze.  Again, we didn’t see anyone for several hours — meaning we ran almost 5 hours without seeing any runners.  After a long climb, we reached the summit and started a very rocky, long descent. “

I was flabbergasted how quickly we had reached the top this year.  It seemed like the climb was simple and very short compared to last year.   I was convinced there must be false summits, but no more summits arrived.   We were at the top.   However, I just couldn’t push the downhill hard.  It was very discouraging.  

“Davy’s foot was extremely painful but he ran well, though several people passed us.  He was inspiring to me with how tough he was.  Our oft-repeated motto was ‘Don’t Be Lazy!’ and he wasn’t.  He pushed hard and we reached the Beaver Mountain aid station (mile 75.8) exactly at his goal time of 2:15 am.  After a change of shoes, he and Brad were off.”  I was in 24th place.   Brad and Geri crewed me by their car so I wouldn’t have to spend time in the warm building.

Jon wrote, “My journey with Davy ended at this point.  I drove home and was in bed by 4 am.  But watching him run was inspiring and amazing, and a privilege to be able to share in.  I was tired and could hardly imagine how he felt after doing 45 miles more than me, especially with his foot problems and quad bruise.  Thanks for letting me tag along, Davy.  It was a wonderful.”

Jon had been a perfect pacer and had done a great job in motivating me.  I was sorry to see him go, but now faithful Brad would lead the charge up the next mountain.   We made our way through the strange loop where everyone got lost last year.  This year it was marked idiot proof.   But still, as we hit the road we found a runner trying to go through the loop backwards.  We corrected his mistake and assured him that he first needed to go up the paved road to the lodge.

We next made the long climb up to Gibson Basin.   My uphill gear was good and I worked Brad pretty well.  We could hear a couple runners behind his (turned out to be Chris Gerber and his pacer).  Each time they came within earshot, I would run very hard and put some distance on them.   The top seemed to never come, but it finally did.  We arrived into Gibson Basin (mile 81.2) at 22:15, five minutes behind schedule, but a whopping 2:37 ahead of last year.  I was in 24th place.   The volunteers at Gibson tried to have me go over to the fire, but I refused and got out of there in a couple minutes.  After we left, we looked back and were surprised to see Chris Gerber’s light already leaving the station.  He must have not stopped at all.   Brad wrote, “We didn’t get to play much ‘reel them in and spit them out.’  There just weren’t many people around us through the night.  I think the really fast ones were too far ahead of us, and we were ahead of the majority.”

Well Chris finally caught up and passed me in about a mile.   After that, I had some terrible foot pain.  I had changed shoes at Beaver Mountain, but the shoes were too narrow and caused the sesmoids in both feet to swell and ache.   I had no choice but to stop and rest them for a couple minutes.  I knew from past experience that this would help.  As I was sitting there, another runner passed us.  I didn’t look up.  I wished I would have.  It turned out to be my very good buddy, Tom Jackson.  If I had seen him, I would have worked very hard to keep up.  But he went on ahead, later saw my green light behind, but it was too late for us to link up.

Last year I was able to really blast down the hill fast into Beaver Creek.  This year, I could only keep a consistent running pace going.  I repassed one runner, but couldn’t quite catch up to Chris and Tom ahead.  I came close, but couldn’t reel them in.  We arrived at Beaver Creek (mile 85.3) at 23:28 (5:28 a.m.), eight minutes behind schedule and 2:24 ahead of last year, and in 25th place.  Geri was there to help us and Brad decided to continue on with me to Ranger Dip.

This next leg was a struggle.  I enjoyed the long uphill stretch just fine, but I became very sleepy as dawn approached.  I tried all the tricks I could think of to wake me up.  Brad recalled, “Just before we made this turn Davy looked back to see if anyone was catching up to us.  The quick turn combined with lack of sleep caused him to lose his balance.  I caught him before he fell on his face.”

We finally made it to the top and had our first glimpse of Bear Lake.  Up there, I found Mike Farris standing around off the trail.  I had not seen him for hours.  I asked him if he had been taking a nap.  He explained that he just couldn’t figure out which road to take.   I knew from last year that it was to the right and helped him get on his way again.   We descended rather slowly into the wide-open valley.    We were going so slow, I was concerned about hordes of runners passing me.  Brad assured me this wouldn’t happen because we were so far ahead of the main pack.  Another runner did catch up and we could see others far behind us.  We arrived at Ranger Dip (mile 92.2) at 25:57, 17 minutes behind schedule, 2:24 ahead of last year, in 23rd place.   At that point, I bid goodbye to Geri and Brad who would head home.  I would finish on my own.   I didn’t want to put Brad through the tough final leg.

I looked ahead, took a deep sigh, and pushed on.   The final steep hill was ahead, nasty 600-foot Ranger Dip Liftoff, a road that didn’t believe in switch-backs.   I very quickly caught up and passed Mike who was moving very slowly up the hill with his pacer.   Once on top, I took my sweet time, feeling no urgency and went on ahead.    Before the huge descent, a fast runner passed me like I was standing still.  He would go on to break 28 hours.   As I went along, I adjusted my finishing goal.    I realized even breaking 28 hours would be too painful, so I decided  that I would just try to beat my Wasatch 100 time from two weeks ago 28:33.  

I now had to get through “The Dropoff” a steep 20% descent of 2,000 feet in just two miles.   One observer last year said they needed a fireman’s net to catch the runners coming off of that section.   My pace was pretty pathetic, but I now could sense that the finish was coming.

Finally I reached the mouth of the canyon and was faced with yet another sick Bear 100 joke.  They rerouted the finish to avoid a long paved road section.  In its place was yet another hill to climb!   I groaned, thinking I was through with hills and pushed myself up.  When I reached the top, I looked down and could see Mike at the bottom, moving well.   The next section confused me because the flagging was yellow, no longer pink and I was in doubt if I was going the right way.  So I slowed until Mike caught up.  By that time I was convinced that we were going the right way.   I had no desire to sprint to the finish so I watched Mike and his pacer go ahead down the wide canyon dirt road.   Later they really slowed down and I came with a couple hundred yards of catching up.

Me, ducking under the finish sign

Once I reached the highway, Anne Watts was there, heading out to go find Matt on the course.   She pointed the way to the finish and I ran into the property, pretty exhausted.   I crossed the finish line in 28:21:15, in 24th place.   I beat my time from last year by 2:30 and beat my Wasatch time!   I was pleased but knew that I could have done much better without the pained leg and foot.   Of the 135 runners, 94 would finish.  

Finish area

I relaxed at the finish for the next 7.5 hours watching everyone finish.

Leland and Errol awarding streaker jackets to me and Larry Hall

At the awards ceremony, Larry Hall and I were awarded our jackets for “Streaking the Bear” – finishing five consecutive Bear 100s.   When I thought about it, I was amazed, because when I DNFed my first Bear in 2004, I sat near the finish line in total dejection, telling my wife that this race was far beyond my abilities.  I was convinced that I needed to give up the hope of ever finishing this race.  But I faced the challenge and proved that I could indeed finish the race over and over again.

It has been a good summer racing season for me.   Looking back, I finished in the top 17% of both Tahoe Rim 100 and Wasatch 100.  For the Bear 100, I finished in the top 18%.  I guess I’ve been consistent.  This was my 5th 100 finish for the year and 27th lifetime.

View of Bear Lake from the finish

This is a very tough 100 mile race with nearly 27,000 feet of climbing.  Any finish is great, any finish under 30 hours is super.   I set what I thought was a realistic goal of 28:30. 

At the pre-race meeting on Thursday afternoon, buddy Matt Watts joked and mocked my goal, but it did get me thinking?  Was I being unrealistic in my expectations?

I don’t often use pacers in my 100-mile races, but for the races close to home, I like sharing the ultrarunning experience with my friends.  I signed up four guys, two back-packing buddies, and two runners who I have been helping get into ultra distance running.  During the week before the race, lots of fun email bantering took place as I claimed that I would leave all of them behind, that they wouldn’t keep up.  The guys in return mocked my past attempts and occasions when I ended up sick on the trail, hardly moving.

Drop Bags at pre-race meeting at Sugarhouse Park

Pictures by Andrew Barney, Catra Corbett, Craig Lloyd, Tara Tully, and Tara Moreland

I spent the night at pacer David Hansen’s uncles’ home just a few block from the start.  Mark Swanson from California joined us. I only slept for about 3 hours.  We arrived at the start with 15 minutes to go.  I was somewhat nervous because of several aches and pains that cropped up during the past week.  At the start, I could sense all the nervous energy among the runners and the fans watching the start.

Mile 0-10:

245 runners started running up a dirt road in the foothills.  For the first few miles we would run on a rolling trail with the bright lights of the city below to our left and the dark mountain to our right.  I started out fast as usual and was pleased that my legs felt fine and the aches and pains quickly disappeared.  As we turned sharp corners, I would look behind and see a long line of headlamps bouncing in the pre-dawn dark.

View of the valley after sunrise

I was traveling light.  I only carried two handheld bottles for fluid, and several gels in my pocket for energy.   I did worry about running out of water during the first big climb, so right before the start I chugged down 32 oz.  I also took with me my phone which contained my music collection to keep me company.  My pace continued to be fast, but at a couple of intersections I had to stop, go back, and make sure I was still heading the right way.  I wasted a couple of minutes doing that which can be frustrating, but that is silly because there is some much time to make up for that.

Heading toward Chinscraper

As the first big climb started, I was very pleased how strong I felt.  I recalled that three years ago, I had quickly faded on this first climb, but not so this year.  I wondered how long it would take for buddy Phil Lowry to catch up to me.  In 2006 he caught up at about mile six.  This year, Dave Hunt caught up to me leading a train of runners at about mile seven, right after dawn.  He tapped me on the back and said, “Here’s who I was looking for!”  Usually in races I just watch Dave Hunt go on ahead.  This time, I thought to myself, “I wonder if I can keep up for awhile?”   That I did!  

Climb where I fell behind

As we continued our climb up the baren ridges, I fell behind a little but later was able to catch up.  Once we reached Landis Spring, I took my time filling up and at that point watched Dave Hunt disappear for the last time.  He and the other runners around him would go on to finish in under 24 hours.

Mile 10-20:

I reached Grobin’s Corner at 3:18, quickly filled up again and started the run along the dirt road, around Francis Peak.   The dirt roads slowed me down somewhat.   I just couldn’t find the fast downhill footspeed because my bad knee started to ache.  I decided to hold back, let a few runners pass, and save my energy for later.   I arrived at Francis Peak aid station (mile 17.7) at 4:01, four minutes ahead of schedule.   I knew my friends would be following my progress on the Internet.  This would be the first indication that I was doing fine.  I did notice that my phone started to chime as emails came in.  I never checked them, just kept racing.  David Hansen emailed my pacers, “Team Crockett” with this update:  “Looks like he was four minutes ahead of his pacing goals as he arrived at Francis Peak.  It will be interesting to see how he holds up during the day.”

Rough Trail

I was holding up just fine so far.  As I was leaving Francis Peak, I saw Phil Lowry arriving, barking orders.  Yikes, he was catching up!   I high-tailed it out and got back on the road.  We eventually left the dirt roads and went through some very rough new trail.  The bushes were thick and it slowed us down.   Eventually I could hear Phil behind, chewing someone out for not running, “This is a race!”  I decided it was time to dish something back to Phil.  I pushed on ahead fast and finally found a good thick tree to hide behind.   Phil tells this story:  “Crockett then raced ahead on the steep climb. I was surprised, until I saw his ulterior motive: he hid behind a bush and popped out to startle us all. “Roaaaaaahhhr!” Dork. I immediately switched on the video and announced that after only 20 miles we had chosen the A$%$% of the Wasatch: Davy Crockett. Good stuff.”  Phil also said, “I hope that was worth wasting 90 seconds!”  It was.   Tom Remkes was with him and we all laughed.   These kind of pranks make this sport fun.

Mile 20-34:

For the next 14 miles, I ran with Phil.   Tom Remkes and Rodger Smith fell behind.  I was feeling fantastic and fast.  I could have sped far ahead of Phil, but I was content to stay close, going fast at times and then letting him catch up.  Phil wrote, “For the next five miles the two of us played tag, running along the ridge line on the dirt road. At one point I told him he was just toying with me, like a cat. I knew I was holding back, but even so, he looked very good to stay with me so well.” 

Bountiful B Aid Station

We arrived at Bountiful B (mile 24) at 5:18.  I was 13 minutes ahead of schedule.  Phil was in good spirits being loud, which a volunteer didn’t appreciate for some reason.  “That’s just Phil Lowry,” said someone.  “Get him out of here.”  Said the volunteer. 

Near Sessions

Phil continues his narration: “We arrived at Sessions (Mile 28) after a short but wicked downhill, which Crockett told me really surprised him. He never had seen me cook on the downhills before, and he told me later that he abandoned any hope at that point of staying with me (he had always used the downhills to catch me in the past).”   We came into Sessions at 6:10.   I was 20 minutes ahead of my schedule.  Brian Beckstead was there and gave me personal attention.   I was somewhat confused and asked Brian, “Which station is this?”  Brian laughed, “Sessions.”  I realized that I was 20 minutes ahead.  “Wow!” was all I could say.  Phil was already leaving, I had to quicklky follow.

Team Crockett had noticed my arrivals at the stations from reports on the Internet.  David Hansen wrote, “Wow!  Mr. Crockett is 17 minutes ahead of his pacing goal going into Bountiful B, and he only stopped 1 minute at the aid station!  Way to go Crockett.  Getting ahead of his goals now will give him some room in case challenges come up later.”  Mark commented, “I hope Crockett’s pace means he’s having a great day, and not that he’s caught up in the excitement and going out too fast.”  Brad, one of pacers started to get nervous that I might have too much energy when they started running with me.   David assured, “He’ll wear himself out long before then.  I’m actually planning to get him lost for a while.”  Brad replied, “Excellent!  That way he’ll be both tired and grumpy when you turn him over to me.”  David chimed back in, “I too need him tired so I can keep up with him during my leg.  Craig, we’re all depending on you to ‘properly condition’ Sir Smelliness for his later legs with us!”  Craig, my first pacer noticed my arrival to Sessions: “Wow. He’s flying. 20 minutes ahead of Schedule. 11:10 in.”  Yes, my phone continued to chime as these silly emails arrived, but I kept on running.

After running with Phil for 14 miles, I just couldn’t keep up with him any longer.  The heat was slowing me down and Phil was running the downhills faster than me.  I stopped for my first bathroom break and watched Phil and a couple other runners disappear.  Phil went on to finish in just under 26 hours.

Mile 34-53

A hot and exposed climb

The heat was becoming bad.   I went into defensive survival mode instead of offensive race mode.  Many runners started to pass me.   I just concentrated on staving of dehydration.  I came into Swallow Rocks aid station (mile 34.9) at 7:56.  I was now 24 minutes ahead of schedule.  David, from his nice cool office reported, “Mr. Crockett is maintaining a good pace.  He checked into Swallow Rocks at 12:56 – 24 minutes ahead of his pace goal.  He left Swallow Rocks at 1:00, so he had a 4 minute stop – not bad after running for 39 miles and 8 hours.” 

Above Big Mountain aid station (center)

But right after that station I took my sweet time walking down the trail, pulling out my phone and calling Craig.  I looked forward to having company, but my urgency for speed seemed to be gone.  I arrived at Big Mountain (39.4) to loud cheers at 9:09.  My pace had slowed and I was now only 11 minutes ahead of schedule.

Big Mountain Aid Station

Craig greeted me and did a fine job in filling my bottles and getting me ready for the road ahead.  So far I was eating mostly gels and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.  We left Big Mountain and it was great to have Craig along. 

On Alexander Ridge

But once on Alexander Ridge, I ran low on water.  This required me to slam on the brakes and slow down some.  We rolled into Alexander Aid station (mile 47.4) at 11:16 (4:16 p.m.) 14 minutes ahead of schedule.  Craig recalled, “It was slow going as it was really hot and Davy was really starting to feel the heat and hills, but overall we maintained his goal pace. At the Alenxander aid station it was like a morgue. People where were there just looked completely dejected. From there it is a long 2 mile uphill in the dead of heat. That was really slow.”  

Nearing the top of the ridge

Once we got to the top of the ridge, we turned up the speed on the downhill.  At one point Craig stopped to go back for trash.  I grinned and started running at 7:30-mile pace.  Craig let out a yell when he noticed what I was trying to do.  I laughed, but it didn’t last long.  In my dehydrated state, I just didn’t have the energy to drop him.

Resting at Lambs

We came into Lambs (mile 53.1) at 12:55, greeted by David Hansen.  By the time I came into Lambs, I was dehydrated and down about 5 pounds.  I was now ten minutes behind schedule.  I was grumpy and somewhat incoherent, but I did my best to drink and recover.

Mile  53-62: 

It was so good to get into the shadow of Lambs Canyon near the cool stream.  The heat attack was over.  David now was doing pacing duties and he prodded me along up the road and trail to Bear Pass. The climb was tough.  I was still dehydrated, but once over the top we flew and passed several runners.  Our speed down into Millcreek was super and I worried that David would face plant on the way down.  I was very surprised at how quickly the trailhead came.  Once there, I noticed that two other guys stopped running and started to walk up the paved Millcreek Canyon road.  No way was I going to walk.  My uphill muscles felt great.  David and I pushed a good fast run up the road. As we were doing so, Brad and Geri Clements drove by and cheered us on.  I’m glad we weren’t being slackers at that time and were running fast.

Right before we reached Big Water, darkness arrived in the canyon and we turned on our lights.  We arrived at Big Water (mile 61.7) at 15:23 (8:23 p.m.) and I was now ahead of schedule again, by 7 minutes.  I also knew I was over an hour faster than my 2006 pace.  Yes!

Mile 62-76

Now running with Brad, I again felt a bonk coming on like I had at this exact point in 2006.  Brad also ran with me here three years ago.  Terrible memories came back.  I did not want to repeat that night of horror.  I did my best to eat, drink, and take S-caps.  The full bonk never came and we made our way up to Dog Lake without being passed by runners.  But I still struggled on the way up to Desolation Lake.  Brad did notice how much faster we were going compared to 2006.  He later reported to Team Crockett, “Mr. Crockett struggled with stomach problems from Big Water to Desolation Lake.  There was some hurling, but no writhing on the ground.”  Thanks Brad.

We came into Desolation Lake (mile 66.9) at 17:38 (10:38 p.m.)  We had a long stop there while I taped my thighs to solve a chafing problem.  Brad needed to do some foot repair so I left without him.  He caught up within a mile.  Brad later wrote, “At one point Davy decided to listen to music and sing.  What was the first song he started singing?  In the darkness, and just a couple of minutes after losing his lunch again, he starts singing “…sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy….”

At about mile 68, I finally recovered and was feeling great again for the first time in about 10 hours.  I was back in the race! I pushed up the pace and could tell that I was working Brad as he was doing his best to keep up.  We started to pick off runner lights one by one as caught up and passed runners who had passed me going up to Desolation Lake.  

Brad commented, “I knew his stomach was settling down when he wanted to turn off our lights to sneak up on the guy ahead of us.  Well it turned out to be impossible to run without lights at that point.  It was very dark (the moon hadn’t risen yet) and we were on a narrow, uneven trail.  But we still managed to pass a few even though they would speed up when they saw our lights approaching.  One of them seemed indignant about it asking, “Didn’t we pass you several miles back?”  We would leave this runner far behind.

When we hit the paved road (about mile 73) that took us to Brighton, we noticed runners down below who kept looking back at us with their headlamps shining, a sure sign of runners worried about being passed.   I grinned and told Brad that we were going to turn out our lights.   We then ran very hard in the dark toward them.  We could see the glow of the center line on the road so never worried about falling off the road.   It was great fun to come up on runners unaware that we were coming.   We could also look far up the mountain and see many lights on the road near Scotts Peak.   I would blink my green light up to them and it was funny to see lots of them blink back.  Obviously I was feeling fantastic since I was fooling around.  Once at Brighton (mile 75.6), three of my pacers were there to crew me in the parking lot.  I was determined to NOT spend any time in the warm Brighton building.   They brought up a very tasty cheese burger that I ate while I cleaned my feet.  Then I checked in and out of the Brighton checkpoint, only one minute inside.  I arrived at Brighton at 1:10 a.m., 25 minutes behind schedule.

Mile 76-87: 

Mark took over pacing duties. The climb up to Catherine’s Pass wasn’t anything to write home about.  No runners passed me, but my pace was pathetic.  By the time I got to Ant Knolls (mile 80.3, 22:09) my energy level was very low and I was pretty incoherent.   I sat in a chair for several minutes, trying to recover.  I was now 34 minutes behind schedule.  At Pole Line pass (mile 83.4, 23:23), after eating two sausages, I started to feel better. I was 32 minutes behind.

The next leg to Rock Spring went very well.  Mark writes, “Crockett started off a bit tired and hurting, but seemed to get stronger, run more, and run faster as we went. At one point I said “You must be feeling good,” and he said, “Naw, marginal.” But he was moving along at slightly faster than his goal pace by that point. The two sausages he ate at Pole Line Pass stayed down. He never barfed. We didn’t talk a whole lot, just kept moving along. We started passing quite a few people after Pole Line Pass. Maybe it was the sausages. They really hit the spot. Crockett’s greatest hits included songs by Billy Joel, including the one about the heart attack-ack-ack-ack-ack-ack, which seemed appropriate.”

I felt great and could run fast.  I was racing again. I noticed that the runners around me were not running the uphills any more, but my legs were ready and willing to run anything.   We passed a bunch of runners along this stretch and one guy thanked me for helping him really push the pace.  I was enjoying the game of chasing lights ahead.  When I would see one, I would kick the speed up a notch.  It never failed, once I passed someone, they also kicked the speed up and tried to keep up.  We arrived at Rock Spring (mile 87.4) at 24:45 (5:45 a.m.).  I had successfully pulled within 20 minutes of my goal pace.

Mark pointed out that my last split time was just as planned in my goal pace.  I was now only 17 minutes behind my goal pace to finish in 28:30.   We discussed that 28:30 was still possible, but on the climb out of Pot Bottom I lost my motivation.  My thoughts started to turn to Bear 100 in only 13 days.   I decided to save something in the tank for that race.  I told Mark that the goal was now to break 29 hours.   I thought I was well ahead of any runners behind me so I started to take it easy.  With about four miles to go, Shane Martin flew by me.  Wow, he was going very fast!  With two miles to go, Eric Johnson passed me and Deanna McLaughlin also caught up.  That woke me up.  I was being lazy.   I hung with Eric for about a mile and Mark struggled to keep up.  We flew through the single-track by the golf course.   I finally lost sight of Eric, so slowed back down.  Once we hit the paved road, I could see that Eric was out of reach but we still ran hard to stay ahead of Deanna.

 For the third time, I entered the Tahoe Rim Trail 100 held in the mountains on the north-east side of beautiful blue Lake Tahoe.  This race is in its 4th year.  The course is laid out on state park and state forest land, climbing ridges overlooking beautiful Lake Tahoe and various reservoirs.  The surface is mostly very runnable, soft single track.  There is about 19,500 feet of climbs, aided by many switchbacks.  Most of the course runs between 7,000-9,000 feet elevation.   This race for some reason has a low finisher rate, but to me, this is an “easy” mountain 100 course.

 The only downside is that the 100-mile course does the 50-mile course twice.   But that is OK because for most of the runners, the second trip is mostly at night.  It is nice to see the entire course during the daylight and then see it from another perspective at night.  Another fun feature are the out and backs and being able to see the 50-milers and 50K runners on the course too.

Goals

Last year, in 2008, this was probably my best-performing 100-mile race.   I finished 17th out of 111 starters with a time of 25:54.   This year, with the injury and lack of training, I would be delighted with a time approaching that.  I was still smarting from the 33-hour thrashing I received at Bighorn 100 last month.  I doubted my fitness and was starting to think that old-age was finally catching up with me. Five days before the race, I bench-marked my fitness by running up and down Mount Timpanogos.  I discovered that I was in fine shape.  I was going to initially just treat the TRT100 as a training run, but then decided to go ahead and give it all I got, and race it.   I put together pacing split goals and with a near-perfect race felt that I could finish in 25 hours.

Pre-race

I traveled to the race with my wife Linda, and three of my kids (two college-age daughters, and my 12-year-old son.)   We arrived on Friday at noon, deposited the drop bags, and weighed in.   The scale said, 182.  It depressed me to see the woman next to me weigh in at 109.   That just didn’t seem fair!  They put wrist-bands on us with a weight scale to tell you what drops or gains in weight would be bad.  This race weighs you in at almost every aid station.  It has been a bother in past years, but this year I appreciated it.

It was 102 degrees at Carson City in the afternoon.  I decided to skip the pre-race briefing on the lawn at the capital.  It made no sense for me to spend time out in the heat, so instead I took the family up to cool ourselves on the Lake Tahoe beach.   We had a great time.

For the first time in over 50 ultras, the alarm clock woke me up from a sound sleep.  Usually I am wide awake much sooner.  I quietly got up at 2:30 a.m., prepared for the race, and tip-toed out the door without waking the family.  I took the shuttle from Carson City to the start at Spooner Lake.  From past experience, I knew they would drop us off over an hour before start, so I prepared for this.  Instead of just standing around talking, I decided this year to go into the dark campground, away from the loud generator noise, and lie down on a picnic table.   I used towels as a blanket and pillow, laid down on my back, and looked at the stars and crescent moon above.   I had a nice rest and focused on the huge task ahead of me.

Strategy

I could tell from the relatively warm morning air, that this would be the hottest of my three years here.  I had tossed out any need for warm clothes either in the morning or at night.  It would be short sleeves and shorts the entire time. Because we wanted to drive home right after I finished, I didn’t want to leave a bunch of stuff out in drop bags on the course – I wouldn’t get the stuff back in time if I finished with a good time.  So, instead I just put zip-locks of Ensure at each aid station and had one bag at Tunnel Creek with my flashlight and some clean socks.   At the start/finish, I had plenty of stuff and would see that bag at mile 50 once I completed the loop for the first time.
I also wanted to race without a waist pack, and only carry hand-helds.   During the day I would carry two hand-held bottles, and at night would carry just one, with my green flashlight in my other hand.   I would have to leave my second hand-held bottle at the start/finish, at mile 50.   I hoped I could make this work.  I would also always have 1-4 gels in my pockets at all times.

The race

The start

With ten minutes to spare, I wandered down to the start area, said a couple quick hellos, and then was off and running at 5:00 a.m.    One runner took off like a shot.   I started with a lead pack for the first mile.   I even pushed on ahead and was in second place for awhile.  But when we reached the single-track Marlette Trail, I stepped aside and let about 8 runners go ahead.  I had no desire to be the engine on this train.

Marlette Lake

All pictures by Craig Heinselman

The run up Marlette Trail was very enjoyable.  It is a nice soft trail and I was able to run nearly every step until we reached the lake.  From there it was dirt road running up to the Hobart aid station.   I arrived at Hobart (mile 6.8) at 1:15.   I just couldn’t understand how my pace could be four minutes slower than last year until it finally dawned on me that they had moved the aid station nearly a half mile further up the course.   I was doing just fine.

View of Lake Tahoe

From there, the trail climbs up along the slopes of Marlette Peak, giving us stunning views of the small lake below.  As we turned a corner, the enormous Lake Tahoe came into view for the first time.  For the next couple miles, I ran near the leading woman runner.   Once we reached the top of a ridge, I knew there would be great downhill running ahead, so I kicked up the speed a notch.  Right after that, I tripped and went down.   My hand-held bottles thankfully took the brunt of the force, but I wasn’t able to go into a shoulder roll.  I picked myself up, noticed a bloody elbow, torn shirt at the chest, and a scraped knee.   The woman runner stopped to see if I was OK, and I was, so I sent her on.  My arm was a cool bloody mess.  All day I would receive great funny compliments from other runners and serious concerns from aid station volunteers.

Climb up slopes of Marlette Peak

Back running, I soon recovered and within another mile caught back up with the leading woman.  She yelled out, “Good to see you recovered!”  She was running the downhill switch-backs very hard.  I was giving all I had to just keep up with her.  Finally I watched her run on toward the next aid station.   I arrived at Tunnel Creek (mile 11.4) at 2:06.   They had also moved this aid station!  That annoyed me because it messed up my planned splits.   I was four minutes behind my 2008 pace.   This station would be visited 6 times during the race.  I was bothered that by moving the aid station about a quarter mile up the hill, that they had changed the course distance.  But the more I thought about it (and I had plenty of time to think about it) I think the course was the same length.   The Red House loop was longer, but the out-and-back to Mount Rose was shorter.

Tunnel Creek aid station

At the Tunnel Creek aid station, the volunteers wanted me to stop so they could dress my wounds.  I refused the offer and instead just poured water over my arm, doing my best to scrape the dirt out of the blood.  No big deal.

Red House

From there we had to run down into the “Red House Loop.”  It is the only section of the course that does not make use of nice switch-backs, so there are some steep descents and climbs involved.   All of this 6.7-mile loop is dirt road and it descends to 6,800 feet.   On the return portion of the loop, I could see many of the 50K and 50-miler runners.  Their races started an hour after the 100-mile start.  I watched one of the 100-mile runners pass me like a bullet running non-stop up the steep climb.  Wow, what was up with that?  I returned to Tunnel Creek (mile 18.1) at 7:17, five minute behind my 2008 pace.  But taking into account the movement of the aid station, I was pretty much on the same pace.

View from Rim Trail

Next up was a long out and back to Mt. Rose totaling about 18 miles.  The entire way was along the Tahoe Rim Trail, a popular single-track trail.  Today, it was very popular among the mountain bikes.  They were out in force.  Most of them were very considerate.  They would stop and let you go by with words of encouragement.  But others apparently felt like they owned the trail and they would not stop for anyone.  A couple times I was bumped and nearly fell off the trail.  There was one group of eight bikers going in the same direction as me for nearly the entire 9-mile segment.  We kept leap-frogging each other and when they were going slow uphill, it would be tough to get by them.  But eventually they figured out the etiquette of being on the same trail as a race.

Lake Tahoe

Another challenge on these segments was the heat.   I tried my best to push the fluids but dehydration eventually resulted.  The temperature felt like it was pushing 80 degrees.  My weight dropped from 182 to 175 at the lowest point.   However, unlike Bighorn 100 a month ago, I was able to bounce back quickly, keep my weight around 179, and continue to push forward at a good pace.

Along this stretch I began leap-frogging with Monica Ochs from Washington.  I was very impressed with her strong, steady pace.  It was great motivation just trying to keep up with her.  I would see her on the trail for the next 50 miles.  One of her great strengths was her very fast aid station stops.  Mine were fast, only a couple minutes, but every time Monica was away faster and I spent the next mile or so trying to catch up.  

Trail down toward Mount Rose aid station

Before descending down into the valley beneath Mount Rose, I commented to Monica that the leading 50-mile runner should be catching up soon.  Sure enough, within a couple minutes the leader ran by very fast.  I was surprised because he was a pretty big guy with a heavy camelback flopping on his back.   I tried to keep up, but just didn’t have it in me at that point.
My split times on the out-and-back were: Mt. Rose (mile 26.9) 5:26, and back to Tunnel Creek (mile 35.7) at 7:17. 

Mt. Rose Aid Station

Because of the heat, I had slowed to as much as 12 minutes behind my 2008 pace.  That was discouraging but I became determined to catch up.  By the time I had finished the return trip, I was only five minutes behind that pace.   I really enjoyed the return trip because I was able to see all of the 100-mile runners behind me.   I was very surprised to discover that Jim Skaggs was just a little over a mile behind me.  He was going much faster than last year.

Climbing up the ridge

We again climbed up and over ridges back to Hobart, above Marlette Lake.  The switch-backs up always seemed never-ending, but I just put my head down and concentrated hard on keeping my pace strong.  I passed Monica again running down the fun descending trail into Hobart (mile 56.2) at 13:07.  Adjusting for the new aid station location, I was now right on my 2008 pace.  Along the way I would pass many back-of-the-packers in the 50K race.  I tried to encourage everyone I passed. It was interesting to think that I was 18 miles ahead of them, although I had an hour head start.

Looking up to Snow Valley from Marlette Peak

The aid stations were all fantastic.  The people at Hobart were always exceptionally nice.  Each station had plenty to choose from with pre-filled cups all ready for us.   There were also plenty of gels.  I made sure I downed a gel at each station and usually ate another one during the next segment.  I also kept one of my bottles filled with two Ensures to sip on.  Calories were never a problem for me during the race.  I do recall overhearing a conversation between volunteers at the Tunnel Creek aid station.  At one point they ran out of gels.  One volunteer was bothered that some runners had been taking up to four gels with them for the road.  The other volunteer said, “Great, that is what they need!”  That was a super attitude and I noticed by my next visit that more gels had arrived.

As far as my problems go, I had only minor difficulties.   My foot/ankle problem wasn’t slowing me down at all after the first 20 miles.  However, my right quad started to tighten.  I discovered that I had subconsciously been leading out with my right leg in an attempt to protect the left ankle.  Once I recognized this, I tried harder give my right leg a rest and let my left leg lead out on the uphills.  (A day after the race, I thought it was funny that the muscles in my right leg were sore, but not my left.)

After Hobart, the next challenge was a three-mile climb up to Snow Valley, the high point of the course at 9,214.  This station puts out silly signs during the last mile approaching it.  If you are in the mood, they are funny, if not, they are annoying.  I did like the “one-mile to go” sign that read, “Food, Fuel, Lodging, Exit 1 Mile.” 

Snow Valley aid station

I again passed Monica on the climb but we arrived with others to Snow Valley (mile 43.5) at 9:32.   I was only two minutes behind my 2008 pace.  One would think I was concentrating hard about staying on this pace, but not so.  I wasn’t checking things very often so didn’t realize how close I was progressing.

The trail down

Next up was a long seven-mile run back to Spooner Lake, descending over 2,200 feet.  I wanted to return by the 11-hour mark, but I knew that a 1:30 leg would be tough at this point with the heat.  Sure enough, Monica jumped back in the lead before I left the aid station, but I kicked in the downhill gear and passed her again on the descending traversing trail.   Very few runners had passed us during the past several hours which was surprising because I expected more 50-mile racers to catch up.  But finally a few 50-milers ran by as they were trying to break a 10-hour finish.  The trail winded back and forth and seemed to never approach the bottom.   There were a bunch of hikers sharing the trail with us.  Two teens got into the spirit of the event and tried their best to keep up with me with their day packs flopping on their backs.  They did very well and I hoped were inspired to take up trail running.

Monica finishing her first 50 miles

I arrived back to Spooner Lake (mile 50.6) at 11:07.  I knew I was seven minutes behind my 2008 pace, but I also knew that last year I spent way too much time at the aid station and also got lazy on the next leg, not running much.   I had arrived several minutes before Monica, but I noticed that while I was still putzing around with my stuff, that she went running by with her pacer.   I made some comment to a volunteer helping me, “Shoot, I need to get going and catch up.”   I did not have to take time cleaning my feet at this point.  I was delighted that I had solved the shoe problem that nearly killed my race at Bighorn last month.  My La Sportiva Wildcats were working out great!  I had a few hot spots that worried me at times, but I never had a single blister form.  My toes had plenty of room and were never jammed on the downhills. The bottoms of my feet were less sore than usual.  I was so pleased.

Now, all I had to do was run the same 50-mile loop again!  I looked forward to it, especially looking forward to cooler evening air.  I left behind a water bottle on purpose, knowing that I would have to carry a flashlight in that hand, in 12 miles.   I drank plenty before I left the station, hoping that I could do the next leg with only one bottle.  I tried to push the uphill run on the Marlette Trail.  But no matter how fast I went, there was no sign of Monica and her pacer.  They must have had a good pace going.  

Listen to audio clip on the Marlette Trail. 

I reflected that I had a nearly perfect race for me going.   No stomach problems, no feet problems, no bonking problems (low calories).  I knew that I had no excuses and became even more determined to keep my pace going strong. I did run low on fluids during this leg, so I had no choice but to fill up from a stream flowing into Marlette Lake.  Wow!  That cold water tasted great.

Tahoe before sunset

I arrived at Hobart (mile 57) at 13:07.  I had caught up to my 2008 pace (adjusting for the new aid station location).    At that point the course converged with the back-of-the-pack runners in both the 100-mile and 50-mile race, making their way back to Spooner Lake.  I saw several friends who continued to look determined to finish.   As I kicked in the downhill gear again on the switch-backs, descending into Tunnel Creek, I finally caught back up with Monica and her pacer.   I greeted them as I passed by and arrived back at Tunnel Creek (mile 61.6) at 14:23.  I was back in the game, three minutes ahead of2008!

I grabbed my flashlight for the Red House Loop because I knew darkness would come before I finished the six miles.   It was a little discouraging to see runners already completing this loop, 5-6 miles ahead of me.  I had been ahead of many of these runners 40 miles earlier.   I was glad that I was doing most of this loop in the daylight.   Three years ago I did it in the dark and it seemed very spooky and lonely.  I continued to leap-frog Monica and finally decided it was time to introduce myself. She was very friendly and in good spirits.  I did notice that her pace was slowing.  She no longer was trying to run the uphills, however she had a powerful fast power hike that I just could not match.  My uphill running gear was still working fine, so eventually I ran ahead, passing Monica for the last time.   She and her pacer cheered me as I ran up a hill.   Darkness did descend as I climbed up and out of that valley for the last time.   I turned on my flashlight and greeted other runners 5-6 miles behind me, starting their loop.  I arrived back at Tunnel Creek (mile 68.3) at 14:23.  I was about nine minutes AHEAD of my 2008 pace.

My stop was fast and for a change, I left before Monica.  Now it would be a light game.   Another runner with his pacer left the station shortly after me and I was very determined to cause their lights to disappear behind me by running hard.  It worked.  I did see lights approaching me.  These were the lights of the front-runners, about 17 miles ahead of me.  Wow, that is amazing and hard to understand how they can run that fast for so long.  The first one I met sounded tired and asked me how far it was to the aid station.  It was encouraging to think that even the fastest runners look forward to reaching those comforting stops.

Listen to audio clip on the Tahoe Rim Trail.

All night, no runners would catch and pass me.  In fact, the last runner to pass me was Monica at mile 63, but I passed her back.   I really enjoyed running in the cool air up on the ridges.  The lights of Carson City and Reno far away were amazing to see.  I kept attention to any lights behind me.  At one point the trail makes a sweeping turn around a drainage valley.  As I was completing the sweep, I could see Monica’s light about a half-mile behind.  Where were the runners ahead?   With the out-and-back, I finally realized that the next runner ahead of me had about a 3-mile lead.  Wow!  It would be very tough to catch anyone.   I arrived at Mt Rose (mile 77.1) at 18:51, 13 minutes ahead of 2008 pace. 

I could tell that the people at the station had not seen another runner for quite awhile.  They flocked around me and a friend took care of my every need.  I was a bit incoherent at first, but my wits came back quickly and I refused any offer to spend more time or wait for something special to be cooked for me.  Within six minutes I was back on the trail.  I heard a person from someone’s crew comment, “Wow, that was a fast turn-around!”   It need to be fast because within a couple minutes I greeted Monica and her pacer arriving.  I met other runners within a mile behind her, sized them up, and realized that none of them seemed to be running extremely fast at this point.  I realized that no one would probably be catching me for the rest of the race.  I even had a couple stops to adjust the tension in my shoe laces, but still looking back down into the valley, the lights weren’t gaining on me.

My stomach and taste buds were sick of the Ensure in my bottle, but I really needed more fluids.  For some reason they shut down a water station during the night at the half-way point on this long out-and-back, so instead I stopped at a creek at about mile 80.   As I was scooping water up with my hand, taking in some wonderful cool water, a light approached from the other direction.  It was Jim Skaggs!  

We stopped to talk for a minute.  He was about six miles behind me, but was doing great and assured me that he was determined to finish this year, confident that he would break 30 hours.  That news really perked my spirits.   I wished him luck and continued on back toward Tunnel Creek.   The further I went, the more of the back-of-the-pack I was able to greet.  They always gave me good compliments on my continued strong running.  At one point I stopped to talk to a runner that had a pacer in distress.  He was having altitude sickness symptoms.  I encouraged the runner to go on and have the pacer return to Tunnel Creek, only about a mile away.  It would be silly for that pacer to continue to slow down his runner for the next 8 miles to Mount Rose.   I hope he returned OK.

I returned to Tunnel Creek for the last time (mile 85.9) at 21:21, 14 minutes ahead of 2008.   I noticed other runners, including Catra Corbett, finishing their Red Rock loop.  They were now 18 miles behind me.  I took my sweet time at this aid station to clean my feet and put on clean socks.  Sand had built up in one of my shoes causing pain from it caking under the toes.  A volunteer realized that I only had 14 miles to go.  “Why are you cleaning your feet with the end so close?  You will finish before sunrise.”  I tried to explain that it was well worth the time investment at this point.   I wanted to continue to run, not do a painful death march.  But the urgency for time seemed to leave me until when I departed, I heard cheers for the arrival of another runner, probably Monica.

As I climbed up the switch-backs, out of the valley, I kept a close watch at the lights following me.  They were at least a mile behind and soon disappeared as I went over the top.   My pace was still good, but not urgent.   The runners behind weren’t pushing me and there were no lights ahead to chase.  What was the point in only chasing minutes on a clock?  I was content just to continue to push on at a steady pace and maintain my finishing position.

I returned to Hobart (mile 90.5) at 23:07 about 8 minutes ahead of 2008 pace.  The volunteers were very kind, making it hard to leave.  I sat down and they brought me a breakfast burrito and some bacon.  Unfortunately the bacon was dry.  At this point, nice greasy, chewy bacon is perfect.  I finally pulled myself out back on the trail, and as I left, I could see a runner’s lights descending toward the aid station.   I needed to kick it back into gear.

The climb up to Snow Valley went well.  I pushed the climb and still had that uphill running gear when I wanted to use it.   Up on top, it was still dark.  I looked behind me but couldn’t see any lights. I remembered that last year at this point, the dawn light had arrived.  I realized that I must be well ahead of my 2008 pace.   I was.  I arrived at Snow Valley (mile 93.7) at 24:15, 12 minutes ahead of last year.

My stop was brief.  I just ate a gel and topped off my water bottle.  I had been drinking straight water for the past three hours, but also taking S!-caps.   OK, how strong did I want to finish?  In both 2006 and 2008, I really blasted down the hill fast, in 1:26 both times.  Yesterday I did this final leg of the loop in 1:32.   How fast did I want to finish?  I would only be pleasing the timer.  It was very unlikely that I would pass anyone.  I decided to give a strong effort, maintain a steady run, and try not to walk any of the small hills.   My legs felt wonderful for running over 95 miles.  They didn’t complain when I pushed the pace up a notch at times.

The final leg went great.  My focus now was to just beat my 2008 time. Dawn arrived, but the sun never arose high enough to hit me.   I finished the final leg in 1:28 for a finishing time of 25:43, 11 minutes better than last year!  It was a strong victory for me.   I finished in 18th place among about 105 starters.  Again this year about 40 runners dropped out.   I also won the 50-59 age group!  This was the USATF 100-mile national champtionship, so I won a sweet blue ribbon.

Spooner Lake

I was very pleased and felt relatively good at the finish.  Unfortunately I arrived too fast for my family.  They had just dragged out of bed and arrived 20 minutes later.   I was a mess with my bloody arm and dirt caked up my legs.  

I left before any other runners behind me finished.  I took a quick shower at the motel and then we were on the road for home by about 8 a.m.  The first three hours cramped in the car were rough with sore feet and knees.  But I cooled the feet on the air conditioning vent and after a few hours I had recovered nicely and was even able to take a few short cat naps.   We returned home in Utah by the time the awards ceremony started back in Carson City.  What a whirlwind weekend!   After a good night’s sleep, I was back at work in the morning feeling fine.  I’m not quite sure what I did right, but by far this 25:43 finish was far easier on my body than the 33 hour death march last month at Bighorn 100.

Finisher belt buckle

This was my 25th 100-mile finish, one of my strongest performances to date.  Next up for me?  Nothing too tough until Wasatch 100, my hometown race.  That will be my focus for the year.  

Monica finished in 21st place, in 27:01.  Jim Skaggs finished in 30:46:37.   The results can be found here.

 

“I have seen at least a couple runners who have looked worse than you.”

– comment from an aid station volunteer at mile 92.5 after seeing several hundred runners before me. 

I ran in the Bighorn 100-mile trail run for the 4th time.   Many times these race reports are a means for me to write about an achievement, perhaps setting a new personal best time for a course or a distance.  This is not one of those times.  The 100-mile distance is such an unpredictable adventure that you never are very sure what the end result will be.   I learned a lot about overcoming adversity and not giving up on a goal.  For me, this story is a victory — just not the victory I went into the race hoping for. 

The Bighorn 100 is run in the Bighorn Mountains near Sheridan, Wyoming.   This event is extremely challenging due to the rugged terrain.  The course is an out and back with elevation gains of 18,300 feet.   It features three major climbs and goes in and out of forests and fields full of wildflowers.   There is about 75 miles of single-track trails.  Conditions of those trails vary every year.  Some years there are miles of mud, marsh, and snow slogging.  This was one of those years.

Also a very unique feature is that four races run concurrently: 100-mile, 52-mile, 50K, and 30K races.    They schedule the races to all finish on Saturday afternoon.   During the final 17 miles of the 100-mile race, depending on your speed, you can be running with participants in the other races.  By 10:00 a.m. on Saturday, there can be over 500 runners on the trails at the same time.

Course Description

The race starts on a dirt road in the Tongue River Canyon.   After a mile it joins a single-track trail running along the Tongue River and then makes a massive 3,500 climb in about four miles to Horse Creek Ridge, giving amazing views at nearly 8,000 feet.  From there you run down “the haul” into the Sheep Creek drainage.  Next there is a mixture of single-track and dirt roads through the Camp Creek drainage and Dry Fork drainage to a nice single-track trail that rolls up and down ridges, and eventually goes down “the wall” (a 2,000-foot descent in less than 3 miles) into Little Bighorn Canyon to the footbridge over the river.   From there it is a long (4,500 foot, 18-mile) climb up the Little Bighorn River and Porcupine Creek drainages on a single-track trail to the Porcupine ranger station.  After that, you turn around and go back the way you came.  Once in Tongue River Canyon, you run out of the canyon on a dirt road to the finish at a park in Dayton.

Goals

Last year I did very well on an altered course because of deep snow.  I finished in 26:45, in 25th place. (see race report).  This year I hoped to do even a little bit better and finish in about 26 hours.  My main concern about reaching this goal was my injured ankle/foot.  I had been nursing this nagging injury for the past couple months and was not fully recovered.  Also my training had obviously suffered.  However, I kept my fitness up through swimming, running a couple road marathons (doing a Boston qualifying time on each), and finishing Squaw Peak 50 two weeks earlier. So I believed I could perform pretty well.

Miles 0-30

Listen to pre-race comments from Matt Watts 

After a couple weeks of drenching rain, we were lucky to have nice sunny weather for the race weekend.  However, we knew we would run into to mud.  How much mud was the question on our minds.  At 11 a.m., 107 runners, including me, started running up the Tongue Canyon road.  I initially was messing around with my electronic gear, so fell behind the leading pack, but soon caught up behind the speed demon pack of runners lead by Karl Meltzer. I ran the first three easy miles fast before hitting the grueling climb.  The climb arrived like a punch in the gut as I climbed up and out of the trees from the canyon below onto steep grassing slopes.  It really looked cool to look up ahead and see Karl and others, already small figures way up the steep slope.

The next 4-mile, 3,500-foot climb was a tough grind.   I held position in the top ten for the next mile but then backed off and was perfectly happy to have other runners pass me.  I knew many of them, but we didn’t converse much because we were so busy just trying to catch our breath.   On the grassy slopes I noticed that they had cut down some grass extending a foot out from the trail.  At the race briefing they explained this was to help us see the rattlesnakes.  Snakes? Great! I went in and out of some aspen groves and eventually passed by Fence Spring at mile 6.25 in 1:32  

It was great to finally arrive at the top of Horse Creek Ridge.  The views were incredible. I liked looking far down the steep mountain below and watching the stream of runners far behind.  I stopped for a minute to tighten my shoe laces for the downhill section coming up.  Scott Mason and others went on ahead.  I was concerned about my shoes, they just didn’t seem to fit quite right.  I was wearing the new model of Vasque Velocity (VTS), and I was starting to believe that the size it was off by a half a shoe size from the old model.

After running down the steep “haul”, I ran into the Upper Sheep aid station (mile 8.5) at 2:06, about five minutes slower than past years.   The next section is one of my favorites on the course, a nice rolling single-track section.  I always chuckle how I start running faster and stronger when I turn onto a rolling, technical single-track.   I pushed the pace harder and then noticed that three runners ahead led by Scott Mason were off-course, down on the boring dirt road below.  I yelled at them, and the runner in the rear finally looked back and realized their goof.   He eventually made his way up to the trail I was on and joined me.  I said, “This is one of the best sections of the course, I would hate for you to miss it.”   Eventually the other runners joined us.  

As we hit the steep downhill, I was again very frustrated with my shoes.  My toes were painfully pushing on the front of my shoes.  These shoes just didn’t fit!  I ran with them on Squaw Peak and noticed the problem, but now had made the bad decision to continue to use them.  I just couldn’t run downhill very fast.  Also, my problem ankle was still giving me pain, so I was forced to take it easy. 

I arrived at Dry Fork Aid Station (mile 13.4) in 3:02.  My pace was about the same as in past years.  I was feeling pretty good.  Anne Watts was there to crew for me and helped me quickly fill up my two water bottles, one with Ensure and the other with water.  I was running light, without a waist belt and a few gels in my pocket.

The next 6.1 mile section was a dirt-road run through a wide-open exposed canyon, mostly downhill.   I caught up to Cory Johnson, a strong runner from Ogden Utah.  I knew if I could keep up with him, I would have a great race.  But Cory was complaining about cramping legs so was struggling a bit.   We ran together for awhile, but eventually I had my own problems to deal with.  First, I noticed my breathing was becoming very labored when I tried to push the pace.  I knew this was a sign of dehydration.  I also needed to stop for a bathroom break.  My stop was a frustrating 7-10 minutes.   From the bushes, I watched at least six runners pass me by.  Back on the road, I was ready to run hard again but it was frustrating that I could not.  My breathing was still very hard when I tried to push the pace.  I recognized the dehydration problem and drank as much as I could, but it didn’t seem to help. 

The next leg of the course was among my favorite sections, a rolling single-track high above Little Bighorn Canyon.  The trail goes in and out of forests and through meadows of wildflowers.  But this year I didn’t enjoy it.  I was struggling too much with my pace.  Other runners caught up with me and asked if I was OK.  “I’m OK, but struggling” was my typical reply.  Once past the Bear Camp aid station at mile 26.5, there is a huge descent down “the wall” to the bottom of Little Bighorn Canyon.  I would usually blast down this very fun technical section, but my poor-fitting shoes and soft ankle were still a problem causing me to carefully make my way down into the canyon.

I arrived at Footbridge, a major aid station (mile 30) in 7:09.   I knew that this was an hour slower than my goal pace and almost 20 minute slower than my first year running this race.   I was discouraged.    I was weighed on the scale and wasn’t too surprised that weight was down several pounds from my starting weight.  I knew I was still dehydrated.  I wasn’t thinking very straight because I had some better shoes in my drop bag at this location but didn’t take the time to put them on.  All I did was grab my flashlight, waist pack, fill my bottles and quickly hit the trail.

Miles 30-48

 Listen to my comments at mile 31 

I was now facing the long 18-mile, 4,500-foot climb up to 9,000 feet.   The first ten miles are very runnable, but with plenty of hills.  After three miles I finally recovered from my dehydration and was ready to work hard again.  I was running near Jason Spruill of Atlanta and we did a great job pushing each other.  I began a very strange pattern of running that I had never done before.  My legs, especially my quads felt rested and strong from the slow pace of the past few hours and seemed to crave running hard up hills. So I began running all the uphills and walking the flats.  That is opposite of what you normally do.  But I really enjoyed the challenge.  I would see a short steep hill coming and would crank up the running gear and run all the way to the top pressing far ahead of Jason and then would recover from the work by walking the flat part at the top.  

My pace was now very good and we started to catch runners ahead.  However, yet a new problem arose.  Both of my feet started to hurt terribly from the tight shoes.  The sesemoids in the balls of both feet started to scream in pain. It became unbearable. I finally had no choice but to stop, put up my feet for a few minutes and let the pain calm down.  Jason passed by and said he would surely see me later.  I felt better in a couple minutes but was very frustrated as a couple other runners caught up and passed me.   I arrived at Spring March (mile 40) at 10:18.  I was now only six minutes behind my 2006 pace, but I didn’t realize this because I lost my pacing chart somewhere on the trail.

Yet another challenge arose.   I was becoming cold.   I had thought my pace would be fast enough to reach the top of the 18-mile climb before the cold set in.  I had a jacket in my drop bag at the top.  But that was 8 miles away.  I warmed myself near the aid station campfire and realized that this would be a real problem.  I asked a volunteer if they had a spare garbage bag.  They did, so I quickly made a jacket out of the bag and knew this would greatly help.  There was a cold breeze coming down the canyon sending a chill through my body.

I continued on my way as dusk approached.   The trail now started to have stream crossings and muddy sections.  I knew it was silly to try to keep the feet dry because I knew there would be unavoidable mud ahead.   Sure enough, it became terrible.  We would “run” through marshes, mud bogs, and cross tons of small creeks.  Later on, Matt Watts lost a shoe in the mud! It was pulled right off his foot and he had to go back and search for it in the mud. 

I saw first-place runner, Karl Meltzer running toward me on his way toward his course record.  He was over ten miles ahead of me.  I later heard that he had been attacked by a moose near the top of the climb not far from the Porcupine ranger station.  Read his story here.

I arrived at Elk Camp (mile 43.5) at 11:51 (10:51 p.m.).  It was now completely dark.   Before eating anything, I quickly made my way to warm myself by the camp fire.  It felt so good but I knew it was dangerous to enjoy it too much.  I felt beat up, but I had no choice but to continue on.

If the mud wasn’t bad enough, snow banks showed up.   I now had to hike through snow fields in the forest.  My feet had been wet for the past two hours and now were becoming frozen from the snow.   I started to see friends running down the mountain toward me.  They were coming back from the turnaround and were several miles ahead of me.  Many were doing very well.  I was discouraged to be so far behind where I normally should be.  For the first time, thoughts of quitting started to enter my mind.  I was having a bad race.  I was cold, tired, and not having fun.  I wasn’t even half way to the finish.  Quitting would be the easy and comfortable way out.   I tried to push those thoughts from my mind.

Finally, I made my way into the warm Porcupine ranger station at mile 48.  It was about 13:35 (12:35 a.m.).   I looked around and was surprised to see many battered runners sitting in chairs. At the start I had met Jeff Nielson’s wife (from Utah), a marathon runner who had seen me at the recent marathons I had run.  She very kindly came led me to a chair and started to take care of me.  “How do you feel?”  “Pretty thrashed,” I replied.   I quickly put on my jacket, gloves and she filled my bottles and helped me change my battery in my mp3.  She gave me many words of encouragement.  I can’t remember much of what we talked about, but I only recall that she was saying all the right things, keeping my mind off quitting and bringing me back to life.  When a grilled cheese sandwich was brought to me, she said, “You can eat that on the road.”  I realized at that point, that she was trying to get me going again.  My mind finally again kicked in and I thought, “Yes, it is time to go!”  I got up, gathered my stuff and headed out the door.   The cold air hit me and I immediately started to shiver.  I looked at cold crews outside the doors looking like homeless guys in blankets, waiting for the runners to arrive.  “It is so cold” I shouted.   “You’ll feel better as you get moving” was a reply.   I did, but thinking that there was till 52 miles to go was a daunting thought.

Miles 48-66

I now was on the return trip and started to greet runners behind me making their way up the mountain.  About a mile out, I ran into Matt Watts.  He was in good spirits.  I saw Andrew Barney about 2.5 miles out, still looking strong.   Many runners, with tired voices, would ask me how far it was to the aid station. They were suffering because of the mud and snow.  I tried to encourage them, but was honest that many of them still had tough mud and snow sections ahead of them.   It certainly was easier for me going downhill, but not really faster.  The mud was still terrible.  I tried to avoid bogs that would cause my feet to sink into the mud up to my ankles. When all was said and done, there was probably about ten miles of mud, marsh, and snow to go through.

There were some pleasant moments.  The moon-less starry sky was incredible.  As Venus started to rise, at first I thought it was some car headlights up on a ridge ahead.  It was so bright and had a yellowish color.  But after awhile, I could see that the light was not on the ridge but in the sky.  It was amazing.  Long before the dawn could be seen in the sky, I could hear the birds starting to chirp and greet the morning.

Back to the unpleasant moments.  My right foot was in terrible pain.  The ball of my foot had become swollen around the sesamoids.  My pace started to slow even more.   At mile 55, as I was still slogging through some marshes, I made the decision that I would drop out of the race.  There is no way I could continue all the way to the finish with this painful foot.  The problem was that the next opportunity to receive a ride back to Dayton would be at mile 66.   I still had a long way to go.  I came into the Spring Marsh aid station (mile 56).  They asked how I was doing and I told them I would be quitting at Footbridge (10 more miles).  They understood.

Now that I had made the decision to quit, there was no reason to try to run faster.  I did a lot of slow walking for the next three hours and greeted many runners who passed me.  Matt Watts caught up, and I told him I was done.  I rationalized that by quitting early, I could start driving home and arrive home for Father’s Day.  That would be nice.

But around mile 60, after taking Advil and some pain killers, the swelling in my foot went down and I felt much better.  I started to run fast again.   My entire attitude changed.  I started to think about how I could get back into the race.   I had good shoes at mile 66.  I could cut a notch in the insole to give more room to the swollen sesamoids.  I could make this work!   I was now running with mid to-back-of-the-pack runners.  It would be easy to run faster than them and would be fun to catch and pass so many of them.   I decided I would not quit after all.  Well, that thought lasted another half hour until the foot started hurting worse than ever.  The swelling had spread.  I again slowed down to a plodding pace.

After what seemed to be an eternity, I returned to Footbridge aid station (mile 66) at about 19:50.   It had taken me nearly seven hours to descend from Porcupine and I was about four hours behind my pace from last year.  When I arrived, I hesitated whether I should weigh myself, because I planned on dropping out of the race.   I told the volunteers that I would probably be dropping.  My weight was up seven pounds since I was weighed here 13 hours ago.  During the night I was retaining water.  I noticed that my hands were swollen.

The volunteers gave me my drop bag and I thought it wouldn’t hurt to at least take a look at my feet, wash them, and see how they felt in my other shoes.  Other runners came in who I knew, including Rickie Redland.  They all quickly claimed the chairs and the tubs to wash their feet.   I stood there looking at them.  They had something that I didn’t have.  They all still had a determined look on their face to continue.  I was patient to wait until one of them was done.  They were still in the race, I probably wasn’t.  Finally, I sat down and started to care for my feet.  I probably took a half hour, but eventually I stood back up with clean feet in clean socks and shoes that fit much better.   My excuses were gone, but I knew there was still 34 miles to go in not more than 13 hours.   How could I do that if it took me 7 hours to go the last 18 miles?  “It’s possible,” I told myself.  I told the volunteers, “I’m going to try to go on, but I’ll probably be back.”   I crossed over the bridge and started the next huge climb.  I didn’t look back. I was back in the race!

Miles 66-82

My progress was pretty good.  My feet felt much better and I had plenty of uphill strength as I made my way up to steep 2,000-foot three-mile climb.   Eventually the leading 50-mile runners could be seen power-hiking behind me. (They had started at Porcupine at 6 a.m.)  It was depressing to see them, because last year I beat all of the 50-milers to the finish.  Not so this year.   I did my best to try to keep up with them.  Soon good friend, Todd Holmes arrived.   He was in about eighth place in the 50-mile race.   He slowed down to walk with me for awhile.  Gee, a front-runner taking the time to encourage struggling runner.  I told him about my difficulties, and why I was so slow this year.  He assured me that he would see me at the finish.  Later, Shane Becker, also in the 50, totally stopped his race to spend some time with me.  What great guys!

As I was making my way on the rolling seven-mile single-track toward Cow Camp, Scott Kunz, Karla Holgers and others in the 50 race, also caught up and recognized me.  They really encouraged me, saying confident things — that I would surely tough it out.   While with them, I took the lead and ran very hard for about ten minutes along the trail. I was really cruising and passing several 100-milers along the way and even some 50-milers.   I still had plenty of leg strength.  But then I dropped on the side of the trail, exhausted.  The problem now was the heat.  It was the afternoon and hot again.

Shortly after that, I again decided firmly to quit the race at the next aid station.   My energy level was low, I was stopping for rest breaks, and the heat was really affecting me.  There was now no reason to push the pace, so I slowed way down. Soon Andrew Barney caught up and exclaimed, “Oh no!”  He knew that I should be many miles ahead.  I explained my difficulties and my decision to drop.  Andrew went on ahead and would tell the aid station that I planned to drop out.

After that I looked at the sky, saw a few clouds and offered a silent prayer that the afternoon might become cooler.  Within ten minutes a cool breeze came in and the clouds covered the sun.  I was amazed how much cooler it was becoming.  Within just a few minutes I was feeling much better and my pace increased.  My main excuse to drop out was gone.

I arrived at Cow Camp aid station (mile 76.5) at about 26:00 (1 p.m.) feeling somewhat better.  The aid station guy said, “Oh you are the one who is going to drop out?”   I was wavering on that decision so he said, “Why don’t you sit and eat for a few minutes and then decide.”  That was a great idea.  I chowed down on some greasy bacon and fried potatoes that were wonderful!  I couldn’t believe how great they tasted.  It seemed like they went directly into my blood stream.  I drank plenty for about ten minutes as I watched runners coming and going.  Little by little, I came back to life and felt great again.

Finally, I jumped up and proclaimed that I was going on.  I thanked the aid station volunteers and hit the road ahead, with a couple 50-milers in my sights.   I quickly discovered that I now had plenty of energy.  My well-rested legs had been lazy for the past 15 hours and were now anxious to really have a work out.  I had a discussion with myself.  I realized that I was now at the back of the pack with no hope in salvaging a respectable finishing time or place.  It was time now to just have a great training run with a strong finish.  Finishing was the ultimate goal.

Miles 82-100

The next 6.1 miles were mostly uphill on dirt roads, normally a tough stretch.  I started to REALLY take off.   Those 50-milers ahead of me had no hope in leaving me behind.  I came to the next hill and ran up the entire way and then slowed down a little on the flatter spots.  For some reason my quads craved being pushed.   I ran harder and faster up those hills than I have in many weeks.  It was thrilling!   I kept passing groups of runners.  I finally caught up with Andrew and thought it would be funny if I sprinted past him.  I did this on the steepest hill of the entire leg.   As I passed without comment, he noticed me, and said with surprise, “What the…??  I thought….??”   Ha, ha, I really shocked him.

I was now going full speed and didn’t quit.  I passed runner after runner both 50-milers and 100-milers.  They would each give me a double-take, wondering what it the world had gotten into me.   I was having a great time.   Finally I climbed up to the Dry Fork aid station (mile 82.5) with a smile on my face.  I had completed that leg in only about 1:15, far faster than I ran it downhill the day before.

Paul Grimm from Colorado was at the aid station and he turned his undivided attention to me.   I plopped down in a chair and now was in no hurry.  I wanted to carefully wash and care for my battered feet.  I then lubed them and put them in clean socks to prepare for the final stretch.   I now knew I would finish.   I had over 6 hours left to cover that last 17.5 miles.  I did groan when someone mentioned that distance.  I enjoyed talking to the volunteers and laughing with other runners.  I took my sweet time, almost 30 minutes at that aid station.  Paul gave me a hug and his classic wide grin.  “See you at the finish!”

The next five miles went very well.  Hours ago, I received very concerned comments from runners passing me, now I received comments, like “Wow!  Doing great!  Impressive” as I ran past these runners.  Once I hit the rolling single track, I really blasted up and down it.  I set my sights on groups of runners and ran hard, catching up until they had no choice but to step off the trail and watch me sprint past.  I arrived at Upper Sheep Aid station (mile 87.5) at 29:20 still feeling great.   I did my best to quickly eat something preparing for the steepest uphill and the longest downhill of the entire course.   I attached “the haul” with a vengeance.  My legs felt great, so I actually RAN portions of this very steep hill as others were having trouble just lifting their legs forward.

Once I reached the top, I said, to another runner, “Here we go!  It is all downhill!”   I looked down in the valley far below and prepared myself mentally for the next 4 miles, with 3,500 feet to descend.   I decided that I would try to run very hard all the way down if I could.  In past years I had run about half of this at top speed with the front-runners of either the 50-mile race or the 50K race.  So I knew I had it in me.  I knew I could blast down this hill as fast as any top runner in this race.

I put it into to high gear and started to go crazy. I noticed that I had no pain at all in my problem ankle!   I let gravity pull me down and used balance and fast footwork to really move fast.   I passed runner after runner and lost elevation very fast.   I don’t think I have ever run such a tough, long downhill section that fast in my life, even on fresh legs.   I would spy out a group of runners, who were running downhill pretty strong.  Then I would dig deep and say to myself, “I’ll show them what running downhill is really like!”   I then would kick up the speed to even a higher gear and make noise so they could hear me coming.  I then would even run faster and blast by them like flying bullet.   I would hear cries of surprise.   As thoughts of stopping came to me, I told myself, “No! Keep it going!”   And so I did for more nearly four miles in less than 30 minutes.   I probably passed about 30 runners on that descent.   Finally, I noticed that again I was badly dehydrated and put on the brakes not far from the next aid station.   I noticed that I had passed almost every 100-miler who had passed me during that past 26 miles.  I even passed Rickie Redland who I had not seen for over ten hours, at Footbridge.  That wild run was a blast!

I stumbled into the Lower Sheep aid station (mile 92.5) at 30:30.  Jody Aslett was there and asked what I needed.  I try to explain about my crazy downhill sprint, was probably incoherent.   I plopped down in a chair and Jody kindly brought things to me.  Jody had seen several hundred runners come through this station.  She said to me, “I have seen at least a couple runners who have looked worse than you.”  That made me laugh.  As other runner arrived, many made comments to me about my impressive downhill run.

Eventually I got up to go.  I knew there was about seven miles to the finish and that I had over three hours to make it there.  The fun part of the course was over.  I had enjoyed my training run.  I didn’t care about my finishing time or placement, so I decided that I would just walk the rest of the way to the finish and enjoy the walk in. Most of the 30-40 runners who I had passed during the last couple hours would all eventually catch up to me.   It was fun to talk briefly with them and receive kind comments. Those last seven miles were long and very painful on the battered feet.   Thunder storms gathered around me and it was interesting to watch them form as I walked along.

Anxious to finish, I turned into the park in Dayton.  Usually I sprint to the finish in victory.  This time I was content to just calmly walk and wave at kind people cheering.   Friends yelled that Davy Crockett was finishing and they ran up and walked near me, laughing and cheering me on as I crossed the finish line.  I finished in a terribly slow 33:21, I believe it was my slowest 100-mile finish ever!  

I now have even more deep respect for back-of-the-pack runners.   I commented that 33 hours was just way too long to be running.  Finishing in 24-27 hours is much easier. Andrew Barney finished a few minutes after me.

This was a victory for me!  I finished a race that I had quit at least twice.  This had never happened to me before.  In the past when I decided to quit, I did.  But this time, I somehow found again the determination and strength to continue on.  I believe I learned more about myself during this race than any other before.   I am so grateful to so many of the other runners and volunteers who were so supportive and encouraging to me during that tough day, night, day and evening.