Like the canyon

When I ran with my buddy from Logan a week and a half ago I was totally convinced I would not run Squaw Peak.  We talked about it on the run and both concluded it would be smart not to run as I am just getting through the Achilles junk. 

Then I ran with Corey and Matt the Saturday before the race, heel felt good, as it has lately, but even though they were both running, I was certain I was not going to run.  Then I ran into Corey and go-fasite Jon on a run a few days before the race, still convinced, but talking with them got my wheels spinning a bit thinking it would be fun to just give it a go.

Friday found me reluctantly packing and getting my gear together to run as I wanted to drive down a sleep at the start.   Finally after bumbling around for way too long I was out the door at almost 10 PM on my way to Provo Canyon.

I slept right at the start/finish.  Not something I would recommend for this race. The RD, Bozung, was out herding the troops all night long.  Every time I would finally get to sleep, someone would come pulling in, talk, move this and that, talk some more and leave. Repeat. Every hour. All night long. 

Alarm went off about an hour before the start and I kinda laughed.  I wouldn’t have needed it, I had been awake for the last hour by the bustle of the early starters.  I moved from the back seat to the front, pulled out breakfast of Greek yogurt, banana, pop-tart, and ½ a croissant, washed it down with some diet coke and a power bar.  Yep, breakfast of dough heads.

Cruised over to the bathroom before the crowd showed up, walked back, casually changed clothes into race attire, walked 10 steps, deposited my drop bag in the stack, 10 steps back to the car, stretched my calves and read my book for a few minutes, cruised the 30 yards over to the start and just as the front of the pack pulled through the gate.  I was the last person over the start line.   I had no real expectations.  I had no clear idea where my fitness was at.  Buffalo Run 50 miler went down in a flame of coughing spasms and cold shivers, my Zion traverse a month or so ago, while 50 miles, was run so casually, I didn’t consider it a good measure, and with my frail body I haven’t pushed much in training.  I had been consistent, but most all training runs were easy paced and fairly short on miles and vertical for most of the last month and a half. 

With no expectations, I whole heartedly went with the strategy that seems to work best for me,  I was determined that my race was about the 10 feet in front of me and 1 foot behind me.  Time didn’t matter, place, no concern, who I wanted to run with wasn’t an issue.  I was going to settle into my rhythm and see what happened.  I wove in and out of traffic down the river trail, Said a quick hi as I went by go-fastie Jon and was soon making my way up the single track of the BST toward Hope Campground.  As luck would have it, I happened to be at the front of the conga line and could cruise at my pace.  I hate the run/walk/run/walk/run these little trains always turn into and was thankful to be able to shuffle along at my easy run pace. 

Eventually caught up to a group just before the aid that included many of my Ogden running buddies.  Chad and I ran together for a bit before he pushed ahead.  I held on to my plan and just kept in my place and pace. 

After the aid and continuing to climb, my pace just kept pushing me past other runners.  I wasn’t trying to push, wasn’t overly eager to pass, just the rhythm I was in and I kept picking people off.  

Eventually we summited the first climb and I quickly was reminded how poor Hoka’s are in the mud as I went flat on my side in the first turn on the downhill.  No worse for wear, not even a scrape, but the mud covering my right side led to a lot of concerned questions from aid station folks through the rest of the day.

Running down Rock Canyon was the highlight of the day.  The grade was pretty mellow for descending and the ground technical enough to make it fun.  I went by the rest of my Ogden buddies here and a few others as well.  I hit the aid and was pretty much in and out, which was something I wanted to do this race.  Spend no or very, very little time at aid stations.  Out onto the BST above Provo, and it was just me.  I could see a couple of guys way out front, and no one was in the one foot behind me, so I was all by myself. 

BST Provo and my local BST are two totally different animals.  I would not choose to run on most of what we ran on in the race.  Roller coaster up’s and downs, sections through old gravel pits, overgrown sections where the weeds were knee high, a couple of nicer sections here and there.  19 miles of it was about 17 miles too many though, no offence to you UC folks who may like that trial. 

By the time it hit Spring Creek I had caught and passed the two guys in front and settled into the long climb with one runner a 100 yards or so behind.  I was surprised at the steep grade of the trail and also how rugged it was.  Tough to go up as well as run down. Very pretty section.  As we neared the top of the climb another runner came into site. The three of us would run close together into the turn around and we all three left on the climb back out together as well.  I talked with one guy for a bit, from Draper.  The course was a true out-n-back, so we would retrace the whole route back to the start/finish. Almost the whole Ogden group passed early on this section going down to the turn around.  Amazing to me how many ultra runners there are from this area.  I settled into my rhythm again on the climb and eventually moved ahead of the other two runners.

I had an absolute riot running back down to Spring Creek.   Seeing all the runners coming up, giving and getting lots of whoops and cheers.  Passed Gdoc and Oreo through here.  G looked good, but I could tell O wasn’t his usual upbeat, strong self.  When I got into the aid I couldn’t believe how crowded it was, sticking to my plan, I grabbed a cup of water and was off.

Walking out of the aid station, I pulled out my bag of S-caps and while fishing two out, my cup of water must have sloshed into the bag.  When I went for two more at the next aid though whole bag was nothing more than a molten goop of melted S-caps, Advil, and Tums.   My race pretty much shut off mentally right there for about 40 minutes.  This is the second time the same thing has happened to me.  Every race since the first time I have stashed some emergency S-caps and other junk somewhere in my race pack/waist belt/ pockets, but in my lack of thinking about this race I neglected to do that and would now pay the price.  I knew I could get through. I also knew getting through would involve cramps and nausea. For me on a hot day with that many miles and a fastish pace those two things are guarantees without salt/electrolyte supplements.  Mentally I was frustrated that I had done well and felt great and that one mistake would reverse some of that.  Getting past that and pushing along anyway slowed me a bit for a few miles.

Along the BST section back to Rock Canyon I had noticed Shane M behind me.  The gap never seemed to change much, sometimes he would seem closer other times further back.  By now I was switching from running in my own world to compete mode as we were in the final miles and I wanted to see what I could do.  I was fighting to keep Shane at a distance and was concerned about the very long climb up Rock Canyon without any salt.  I knew if I pushed I would get very crampy and sick fast.  As I came into the aid I noticed one of the MRC blog guys, Christian, I think, there with his running gear on.  I asked at the aid if they had any S or E caps and they said we have salt for the potatoes, nice but not what I needed.  I asked Christian if he had any he could spare, I felt like a freaking junkie, but couldn’t bear the thought of what was to come without, thoughts of my glorious Grand Canyon bonk kept haunting me.  He had two stashed in a back pocket of his pack. Smart guy! I took them gratefully and I know that’s what got me up that climb.

I made it up and over the climb without seeing a soul, other than lots of Provo hikers out for the day in beautiful Rock Canyon.  I knew Shane was back there but hadn’t seen him in an hour.  As I started the long descent into Hope Campground and eventually back to the finish at Vivian Park, my legs and stomach finally rebelled.  Cramps in my quads and nausea in my gut.  Just before the last aid Shane came blowing by me.  It was the first time I had been passed all day and it was at mile 45 or so.  I patted him on the back and yelled nice job and watched him go.  Fortunately we rolled around the corner and there was the aid.  Shane stopped for a drop bag and I grabbed a cup of water and went.  Just as I was leaving I saw Josh, JSH on the blog I think, coming in.  I pushed hard out of the aid and painfully bombed the hill trying to hold Shane off.  He caught me just before a traversing service road that we ran on for a bit.  He went by and motioned for me to hang on and I gave it all I had, but he opened a bit of a gap, like maybe 50 yards, and that is where it would stay for the last 3 miles!  

The BST down to the river trail was blazing hot and the trail just rolling enough to make it brutal, especially with everything I had on the fire trying to hang with Shane. We hit the river trail and it was hell on wheels.  The slight uphill grade and the heat were murderous.  Shane was just out of reach staying 30-50 yards in front.  I would gain a few, he would look back see the gap and push it back up.  He eventually caught another runner, they ran together for a bit and I thought they would finish together.  I also thought, push! If I can get one I get two!!  I felt a surge of energy and closed the gap a bit more.  Shane dropped the other runner and he started walking.  I caught him and quickly passed as well, regaining my 7^th place that I had had for 25 miles or so. 

I was getting worked badly at this point.  Cramps all through my legs and my stomach was just about to end up all over the river trail.  I’m sure I looked like running death to all the nice families out enjoying the warm afternoon.  I told myself just get around the next corner, if the finish isn’t right there walk for a bit.  Luckily it was right around the corner and before I knew it I was sitting in a chair getting my number taken off and answering the same question about whether I was o.k as it looked like I had taken a fall.  Next thing I knew I was offering Shane a 100 bucks for 2 S-caps. I am freaking junkie! The things work for me though. I went from feeling like I would hurl, to totally fine in 10 minutes after taking 2 at the finish.

What a great race! I felt fantastic all in all and am really happy with my result and where my training has gotten me this year.  My time this year was almost 4 hours faster than my first Squaw Peak 2 years ago and on a harder course.  Incredible to watch so many friends finish so strong.  Corey had the race of the day I think, he killed it! I was so excited for him! Go Fastie nailed his first 50 miler getting 1^st place in his age group.  Gdoc, what can I say, probably the best finish I saw all day.  Awesome to see his family all there cheering him in, he killed it for a huge jump in distance and effort.  I love this race and its one I hope I can keep doing year after year.

Whooowee is it Thursday already?  Recovery, recovery, recovery.....please heaven give me some recovery.   One week from today I'll be dropping my gear and checking in for the Big Horn 100!! What the hell was I thinking!! Got out for an hour on the bike Tuesday, slow and easy, just let the legs spin.  Have to admit when I saw two huge pelotons of riders from the clubs I used to ride with go by, I kinda missed it for a second. 

Got out tonight for an easy 4 or so.  Again slow and easy, just let the legs spin.  Downhill gear is in the worst shape.  Probably from ripping down the trail from Hope in the searing pain of lactic acid, dehydration and low salt/electrolytes.  Not a place I want to go again soon....oh wait, I have a hundred miler next week! I don't know how Davey (Crocket) and the like do it, amazing.  Took my boys out for mile or so after dinner, just hiking.  Hands still numb from fishing rocks outa the creek for my 3 year old to through back in, so that may explain the more than usual 10-15 typo's per post. 

Hour bike Tuesday

4 miles today - easy- not sore, just tired and a bit stiff. 

Easy 4 miles before heading up to the scout camp out with my kido. Good times.

Got home from the scout campout, got called to bag sand, took my 11 year old with me and we had a good time helping out.  Really good experience for him,  Ran up below Snowbasin again tonight.  Break'en the law again, but did no harm so felt ok with the infraction.  Those baracades keep the rif raff out though, just me and the deer.  Trails pretty much dry, but very very erroded.  Gorgeous out there.  Felt pretty crumby really.  Pace was easy, effort was not.  Attribute it to inhaling enough campfire smoke to qualify me as a pack a day smoker, too many pancakes, and the dreaded grass pollen kicking up the allergies/asthma. 

9 miles or so, no watch. 

Here is a link to Chris Boyak's video of the race, great shots and kinda tells the story of the course

http://thescenebegins.wordpress.com/2011/06/22/race-report-2011-big-horn-100/

First off, let me start out saying the Big Horn 100 is a sandbag.  Well, at least to me it was a sandbag. I had always looked at it as an “easy” mountain 100 mile race.  The elevation profile looked tame, a couple of steep sections most mostly rolling, mellow ups downs,  the aid stations pretty close together, and it was an out-n-back, so you could get your head around the whole thing by getting it around half of it. 

Others may not see it a s a sandbag.  They may see the subtle fact that the climbs, while mostly mellow, go on for a long time, and the descents, while they are numerous, lack consistency of grade and steepness to really let you open it up with minimal work.  To prove it wasn’t that bad I asked Tom at breakfast on our way to the race how Big Horn compared to the Bear 100, my first and only 100 miler.  He hesitated, paused, and then said something I thought ridiculous “I’d say it’s about the same, maybe 10% easier at most.  I thought, ya right, has he even seen the elevation profile? (Funny thing is he has run both races multiple times.) I thought he was sandbagging me.

With all that said, I did expect it to be difficult, just not as much as it ended up being.  Challenges were dished out from the course in a big does and from I fought monsters in my body for most of the race. 

Going into this, less than 2 weeks after finishing a very hard run Squaw Peak 50, I knew I was not recovered.  My legs still felt tight and my muscles hot on most of my runs leading up to the race. My body and mind still felt sluggish and tired almost all the time.    I’d been running easy miles and trying to sleep as much a s possible, and was looking forward to my last good night’s sleep on Wednesday night, 2 nights before the race. That’s when I got a text from Cory saying he’d pick me up at 4:00 AM.  Who the hell gets up at 4:00 AM when they don’t have to?  I was up till midnight packing and up again at 3:30 AM to get ready to leave.

Luckily the race had a 10:00 AM start on Friday, so both Cory and I were able to sleep in and take it easy all morning.  Such a weird thing thought to just hang around all morning ready to race.  And that is what we did, sat around the park in Dayton getting ready to run the fast, flat five miles up a dirt road and onto the trails into the hills and mountains. 

After a beautiful rendition of the national anthem under the stars and stripes we were off up a long dirt road and into a stiff head wind.  Tom, Cory and I settled in with a couple of others a few minutes behind the lead pack and a minute or two ahead of the main pack.  This is pretty much how it stayed through the whole race, with the exception of the front of the pace getting smaller as people fell off the pace. 

I knew I was in for a long day in the first ten steps off the line.  My calf felt tight and my Achilles was sore right off the go and didn’t get better in the first few minutes as it usually does.  My legs had the familiar tight feeling they had had since Squaw, my breathing felt hard for the pace.   We cruised pretty solid up the road and managed a sub 8:00 pace up to the single track section.

As we hit the single track and started up the initial climb I thought things were coming around and felt great running hills and cruising along comfortably.  I stayed behind Davey up through this section and he was moving great as well.  We passed through an aid station after a bit and Davey said “this is where it gets steep”. I thought, steep? I didn’t think this race had any real steeps sections?  Just as we plowed into a hill that had to be a 30% grade.   On and on, up and up forever across and open hillside that allowed you to see the leaders way up front and way up the hill.  I kept the pace up a bit, felt ok and slowly reeled in a few people in front of me. 

The further we climbed, the worse I felt.  My legs got worse, my stomach started to act up and by the time we hit the first aid after the climb I felt like I had already run 30 miles and my gut was so bad I almost up-chucked my cup of water.  Leaving this aid it was a very beautiful and mellow climb up a green valley, through a bit of a muddy section or two and some snow.  Soon enough we were descending a long dirt road into the Dry Fork Aid, a busy place that we would visit 4 times during the race. 

I left Dry fork and cruised into the 7 mile out and back we would do once here at mile 17 or so, then again at mile 75 or so.  I still felt like crap and just tried to maintain.  There were a lot of runners around, in front and a bunch close behind.  I was thinking how hard a pace I was having to run to maintain, just to stay with the herd. It was like everyone was at the start of a 50K not a hard 100 miler. 

Coming back into Dry Fork, I was still with Tom and Cory and all three of us left the aid flying down a broad, long valley.  Right behind us was a lady named Rhonda, who I recognized from the Bear, she had won and set the course record.  Just in front was a lady from Seattle named Gwen.  Soon Rhonda reeled us in and we caught up to Gwen, the four of us swapped leads and tried to cruise the rolling hills and slogged over and through several creeks and deep mud holes.  From this point on I think my feet stayed wet for the rest of the race.  Rhonda was really impressive, running all the hills and pulling away from us.  At that point Cory and Tom went with her faster pace and I just couldn’t hang on as my stomach was still on the verge of projectile vomiting and my legs wouldn’t cooperate.  Gwen had also fallen off the pace and was nowhere in sight behind me.

As they left me, I sank even deeper into the low and started to feel dizzy, and cold sweats. My heart was racing, even at a slow pace and I slowed more to try and get a handle on things.  Usually I go through highs and lows in a race this long, I think we all do.  But to this point, it had all been pretty much a huge low, other than a few miles on the initial hill.  I had serious thoughts about pulling out at the Footbridge aid.  I thought there is no way I could endure another 20 plus hours of this.

A few miles later Gwen came by fast, obviously feeling better.  I tried to hang on and that seemed to pick me up a bit.  I managed to keep her in sight and just kept telling myself to push and stay positive.  By the time we reached Bear Camp aid I was right with her and as we pulled in, she asked if I was feeling better and I was a bit.  Her next question was “how are you with technical downhills?”  I said I love them, but not today.  As we left the aid, she said  “well we have a huge downhill coming, when you want to pass just ask.”  Within a mile or so I felt ok and asked to go by.  Things felt pretty good going down toward the huge Tongue River and Footbridge aid.   At one point I could see the trail going up river on the other side far below and caught a glimpse of Cory making his way up canyon, having already been through the aid.  This section was amazingly pretty, that river is huge and rough and the canyon it flows through lush, steep and green.

Feeling better I picked up my night gear, drank some coke, grabbed a couple of gels and was on the way out for the long 19 mile out and back that would take us 9 miles uphill and up river and then back down to the Footbridge.  Gwen Left in front of me and I saw Rhonda just leaving as I pulled in, she said Tom and Cory were about 15-20 minutes up.  Within a mile of leaving the aid the low came back with furry.  Dizzy, stomach bad, legs wouldn’t work and all and my Achilles was on fire again as it had been most of the race .  I thought, get through this out and back, if its still this bad, drop at footbridge. No way am I going through the whole night this sick. 

I tried to maintain Gwen’s pace up the long climb.  For a few minutes I would feel great, catch up and we would chat, then right back into the depths of hell and I’d fall back.  The leader came by about here, many hours ahead of me and at least an hour ahead of second place.  They guy was flying, totally unbelievable.  The climb up went on forever! That was what made this race so hard.  The climbs are not really that steep overall, but they go on for miles and miles.  At the Bear, most of the climbs were short and steep, followed by a short and steep downhill on the other side.  Here they go forever, then no downhill, just flat or rolling terrain so it is hard to maintain a fast pace.  Gwen and I hit the turnaround not far apart and left together.  She let me go in front knowing I would be quicker on the long very technical downhill. 

Within a mile or so of the turnaround I looked up and saw a very angry looking moose charging head down across the trail about 50 yards in front of me.  The hair on its back was standing up and it was running fast through the brush just to my right.  I stopped and watch just as Gwen caught up.  I pointed it out and she just missed seeing it, she said I was hallucinating.  I wasn’t, kinda freaky.

I switched on my lights, put on some music and pushed the downhill as much as I could.  It was a long, long way back to Footbridge and the very technical rocky trail and dark night made the going a little slower than I would have liked.  I tried to give encouragement and good jobs to the runners still hiking up, and managed to pass a group of 3 guys that had been in front of me all day.  I was feeling ok when I hit the Footbridge aid and tried to get in and out quickly.  I grabbed my stuff from my drop bag, drank a delicious cup of warm chicken broth, asked for another and was brought a cup of thick beef broth that almost made me hurl as soon as it hit my mouth.  There were still a lot of runners in the aid heading up and I felt for the long journey they still had ahead of them up the turn around and back.  I had to use the restroom here and hoped that would help the stomach issues, as I came out and got on the trail 2 of the guys I had passed were just in front of me.  I caught up and we chatted for a while it was nice to have some company heading into the long steep climb back to Bear Camp. 

As we walked uphill, I learned one guy was French Canadian and had a full French accent to go with it and the other was from Oregon.  I was behind and they were maintaining a good pace on the steep ups, but walking the flat sections and short downhill rollers.  After a few rounds of that I decided I would pass and went off into the night alone.  I hadn’t seen Gwen since the moose incident and knew the next runners ahead were Tom and Cory, 30 minutes or so up and the guys behind were soon too far back to even see their lights.  Just me, a beautiful full moon night and the trail, just the way I would want it. 

Within a few miles my stomach was back on the ropes and I plodded along, unable to eat anything as it would almost come right back up (I refuse to puke in a race, I hate puking, I wont do it on the trail) My food all night was pretty much a Tums every half hour or so as it seemed to calm things down for a few minutes.  The other thing I could get down ok was Coke, and at every aid I would drink 3-4 cups.  The caffeine and sugar would give me a boost for about 45 minutes to an hour, then right back into to gunk again.  I was having very real thoughts about dropping at Dry Fork as hours more of feeling this sick (the kind where if I were at home I would be in the bathroom laying on the floor waiting to puke my guts out) made my head spin.  I was also getting very sleepy.  As the Coke would wear off, my eyes would get heavy and I had to fight the urge to sit down and rest. 

As I plodded along I was listening to Atlas Shrugged to keep my mind off the sick and make the time go by.  I was sure I would drop, I was making terrible time I thought and just couldn’t imagine another 30 miles.  I had hoped to go under 25 hours, a goal I set when I registered for the race, now I was just hoping to finish and maybe get in before 30.  Then I remember something Jim had told me before Bear, he said “don’t drop in the night, when morning comes you will feel better.”  So I set that as the goal. Get to the dawn!

The long climb up to Dry Fork was a bit of torture.  You can see the aid like a beacon on the hill, all lit up and inviting for a long way off, and it is a long climb to get there.  I was climbing with my lights off at this point, it wasn’t really light out, but the full moon and a little morning twilight made it easy enough to see the trail at my slow pace.  As I walked into the aid I joked with the volunteers that they must have kept moving the aid back as I came up the hill.  I looked back down the long valley and could see no runners behind. 

I grabbed some Coke and headed out into a beautiful sunrise on the long 7 mile out and back.  On the way out all I could manage was a walk up the long mellow climb.  I kept looking at the time and trying to do the math.  I had written off dropping with only 25 miles left and didn’t care if it tool all day to get in, but I did the math and thought I might be able  to get in around 26 hours, which was my Bear 100  time.  With this in mind I started to jog the downhill on the return, then picked it up a bit to a shuffle.  I saw a few runners behind me, but way back, so I knew if I could maintain I wouldn’t lose any places, but I really wanted to finish as strong as I could and get in around 26 hours if possible.  I did not see Davey in this section, and I was worried for him as he had been close at the last turn around, and I knew he was a strong finisher.  I hoped he was ok.

Leaving Dry Fork for the last time I faced a long gradual climb.  Getting up it and looking back a mile or so I saw no one behind and had seen no one in front since passing Tom and Cory on the out and back mile ago.  It was at this point that the hallucinations started in full force.  Every fence post in the distance I thought for sure was someone standing there next to the trail.  Every big rock on the side of the trail looked like some sitting there.  I thought I saw a bear, it was a huge stump. I thought I saw the aid station, was 100% certain I saw a tent and 3 people standing outside just at the top of the hill in front of me. It was a rock and two trees.  On and on at every twist in the trail some new mind game.  It got to be fun to see what my brain would dish out next.  When I realized that what I thought for sure was real wasn’t I’d smile and say to myself, next.

I went through the last real aid station, I knew it was real because the guy talked to me and gave me water and Coke.  And made the steep short climb back up to the top of the high ridge where the course drops back down to the road and the last 5 miles to the finish.  I still had the 26 hour goal alive and looking at my watch, thought, if I can get to the road with an hour and a half left I can make 26 hours.  I remember Davey saying he runs this downhill hard, and I wanted to do that if I could.  I took a big shot of gel, the first in many hours, knowing it would make me feel sick again, but not caring as I was almost done.  A big breath, some harsh self talk to get me motivated and I plunged down the hill.  Kinda rough and herky jerky at first, but soon I found a rhythm.  I couldn’t belive it, I don’t know where it came from, but I was flying downhill!! Hoping rocks, bombing the straight sections, dancing over ruts and roots, blasting through deep mud holes.  I past a few guys hiking up and they gave me huge cheers saying I was moving twice as fast as the several runners they had seen in front of me. That gave my encouragement and I ran even harder.  I hit an aid station about 2/3 of the way down and knew that  the road and those last five hellish miles were close.  I looked at my watch and thought, if I flew I would hit the road at just over 24 hours and could possibly still make my goal! I was shocked at my pace.

The last bit before the road had some good rollers and, in searing pain, I would grit my teeth and blast up them as hard as I could.  I flew into the last aid where the trail meets the road to huge cheers and encouragement about my pace.  I said I felt weak, but was putting on a good show for them. 

As I left the last aid and gave the lady checking us out my number, 1147, looked at my watch and saw I had 50 minutes to make my sub 25 goal! 5.1 miles in 50 minutes on a rolling dirt road at the end of a very tough 100 miles.  I was going to give it every ounce I had!! I ran hard down the initial downhill, passing a runner who had been a head of me all day.  I hit the flatter section and kept the hammer down.  I was desperately flipping through songs on my Ipod to keep me going hard.  The pain was unbelievable.  I just kept telling myself, don’t quit, don’t walk, don’t give in, go like hell.  On and on the road  went, over a roller, gotta be getting close, then a car in the distance, discouragement, then don’t quit, don’t walk, don’t give in and I’d keep going hard to the next corner and the next roller.  The short uphills were total pain and I’d give 110% to get over them as quick as I could.  On a long straightaway a little girl road out into the road on a bike with popsicles in her basket on the front.  She offered me one, sweet, but I said no thanks, she wanted to talk and I did for a minute, then I said sorry, but I gotta get this done, but can I borrow your bike?  I asked how far to go, she said 3 miles, I had already been running down the road for over 20 minutes.  That almost made me Quit.  It was all I had to keep going.  A few minutes later I could see a woman walking toward me.  As I got nearer, she was clapping, cheering and jumping up and down screaming keep running! Keep running! That is what I needed! She ran next to me for a bit, I recognized her from the dry fork aid, she had been there helping out, and encouraged me, saying I was closing fast on two in front as they were walking.  I was scared to ask, but I said how far.  She said less than 2 miles.  Oh thank you! closer than I thought. 

Coming around a bend I saw traffic on the highway we would intersect with.  I knew I was close.  My watch said I had 11 minutes.  I knew I had to push hard just in case I was off at all with the race clock.  As the highway neared, more and more people were on the side of the road cheering like I was there son.  I was so appreciative of it, it gave me a huge boost when I needed it most.   I started slapping hands with them as I went by.  Then a huge crowd and I saw the bridge I had to cross right before coming into the park.  I slapped hands with all of them, crossed the bridge, then the highway and I was turning into the park with a few minutes to spare.  I felt the emotions come on strong and wished I had sunglasses to hide the tears that flowed involuntarily.  As I came into sight of the finish I could hear Tom and Cory whistling loudly.  A few more strides, through the line, and it was over! I was under 25 hours, I had run the last 5 miles of a 100 mile race in just over an 8:50 pace.  I was totally over come.  I couldn’t believe I had even finished as rough as it was.  With the exception of the last 8-9 miles and a few other short stretches here and there the whole race had been a painful low.  I had been sick and weak and fought it the whole way.  Next to Speedgoat in ’09, this was the hardest race physically and mentally of any.  I think it was some Speedgoat advice I had read once that got me through it, he said running a 100 miles is really just about being stubborn.  I think it was just a stubborn unwillingness to give in that got me through this one.  As hard as it was, I think I feel this is one of my best races.  I met my goal.  Laid it all out and gave it 100% of what I had to give that day all the way through.  I never let myself quit or give in and I finished stronger than I thought I had in me with a 110% effort.  I learned more in this one than most of my other races combined.  They say running a 100 miles changes you, well, maybe, maybe not, but I know I went through things out there in this race that will make me a better person and gave me a place of strength that I know I can draw from for the rest of my life.   If you even are thinking about running a hundred miles someday, I encourage you to do it.  There is a magic in that distance that you can’t find in many places.

Cathing up catching up.  Volunteered at Logan Peak, worked the Dry Canyon aid, the only aid as the course was shortened to an 11 mile out and back.  No real running, but a good power hike up about 3.5 miles and 3000+ vertical.  Good to see everyone come through.  Aaron K looked solid, so did go fastie Jon.  Super fun time up there.  Ran out to the turn around after everyone went through, pretty rough and muddy.  Jogged back to the car, felt like crap, legs not recovered, especially the downhill gear. 

9 miles or so 3200 vert or so. 

Nice easy hour ride on the bike, then some much needed ART. Super tight and sore from the knee down, ouch!!

Wife was gone tonight so I packed up the boys and headed out on a long hike.  Been wanting to get my 3 yr old up to the waterfall in at the top of Waterfall Canyon.  He is fascinated with mini waterfalls in the creeks we hike by most nights so I thought the 200+ feet of gushing water would totally blow his mind.  It's a fairly long steep hike for 3 yr old legs so I packed all 40 pounds of him plus some water and snacks in the kid carrier, gave a waist pack to my 11 yr old with more water and headed to the 29th street trailhead. Shocked to find the lot totally full and cars parked on the street.  I think every church group in the valley was up there tonight.  Not one bit of an exaggeration, would estimate 400+ people on the trail and up at the falls.  It was alomst a solid line of people going up and down the canyon, crazy!!

We hiked up at a fast pace, passing tons of people.  Good amount of work hiking hard with a 40lbs monkey on my back.  A guy in some five fingers hiked with us and was good to chat with. He had just moved to the area, and couldn't  belive the people.  I told him it was not typical. 

My 3 yr old hiked/ran all the way back and had the time of his life.  All he has talked about since we got back is going back to the BIG waterfall!

Headed up to the trails below Snowbasin tonight.  A friend of mine has been running a new trail they put in off of the overlook trail that heads out to a ridge above Pineview and drops back down to Maples trail.  He usually starts at Snowbasin and runs the 8 mile loop.  I didn't want to drive all the way up so I started at Wheeler Canyon trail at Pineview reservior and ran up to Snowbasin to meet him.  We ran the to the top of the loop and up an unfinished spur trail that headed toward Salamander Peak.  We started the downhill and it went on forever, switchbacking back and forth at a super low grade, kinda rolling grade back down to the Maples trail.  The trail was freshly cut less than a year ago, so it was a littel rough here and there, but really smooth overall.  Very beautiful, all the way through. 

We hit Maples and I headed down toward Ice Box and Wheeler Canyon.  It was already after 9 PM, and it got dark quick with the cloud cover.  By the time I was half way down Ice Box I was wishing I had brought a light. 

By the time I got to the car I was in the deepest bonk of my life I think.  Don't now exactly what brought it on other than the run was too long for my recovery and I didn't bring enough water and no salt and it was really hot and super humid.  By the time I got home, I was shaking like I was hypothermic, head was spinning, heart rate and respiration high.  Not good.  I drank water, took a hot shower, put on a hoody and climbed in bed for a bit, nothing would stop the shivers. Finally I got up and downed a couple of S caps and some Ginerale and with in 20 minutes felt much better.  Really strainge, never experienced that before. 

Guessing the run was about 13 miles and 2500-3000 vert.  Overall Gorgeous, and I felt great for the first 9 to 10 miles. 

Easy 3 mile run, then a good hour long hike with my boys.