Every journey begins with a thought
After finishing the St. George Marathon last October, I knew I wanted to attempt a few ultra marathons in the 2010 calendar year. It wasn’t until the last minute – on a whim – that I put my name in for Wasatch. I surprised even myself by doing so, but my family thought I was completely nuts! Really though, I didn’t think I had much of a chance getting in and was more or less trying to get an extra draw for 2011. Fate played me a different card, though! Upon being drawn, I knew I had to get to work. With a little over 6 months to prepare, I was in for some intense training. I used my 50 milers and 50K as training tools and felt like I had a really great plan going into Wasatch.
The Beginning
After some nervous weeks, race day finally arrived. I caught the bus from downtown Salt Lake and we made our way to the starting line. A light drizzle and some wet roads along the way had me a little worried, but upon arrival my fears were diminished; the ground was slightly damp, the clouds were slowly rolling away, and excitement was filling the air. I felt an amazing calm come over me. Not sure what it was, but I did know that 100 miles is a long distance to travel on foot. Worrying at this point would only compound problems that may arise later. After a few quick words and a countdown from the race director, 250ish runners were on their way to tackling the beast that is Wasatch.
After heading north for a very easy first few miles, the trails turns east and begins it’s ascent up the mountain. The trail was not very wide and passing was difficult, but I found myself amongst a group that was keeping a pace which felt comfortable to me. As we made our way up the first few thousand feet of the mountain, we became engulfed by fog and the trail was starting to show signs of crisp, new-fallen snow. It felt as though we were climbing into the clouds… So surreal! The ominous Chinscraper - wrapped in clouds - loomed in the distance, taunting us. Eventually we rounded the bowl beneath it and overtook the steep summit en-route to the first water stop. After a quick water break, we began descending the fog-enveloped dirt road that led us to the first aid station of the day: Francis Peak (mile 18.6). I refilled my bottles, grabbed some gels and some fruit, snagged my shades and my iPod, and was off.
My legs felt great at this point! My pace was relaxed and I was thoroughly enjoying myself as well! The scenery was unmatched and the fog was finally beginning to let up. However, it was here that one of two major problems on the day began rearing its ugly head; my stomach felt great, but unfortunately my bowels did not. I know it’s not very pleasant, but it’s something that affected me throughout the race. I probably lost somewhere in the neighborhood of 40 minutes over the course of the race in the squatting position (I stopped counting around the 12th break), but it’s a reality that I had to deal with. You gotta take the punches and roll with it! Aside from this problem, the sections to Bountiful B (mile 23.9) and then to Sessions Lift Off (mile 28.2) absolutely flew by. I honestly don’t remember what I was thinking through here. I was just enjoying the lush scenery. I love these moments when I’m able to just “zone out”.
Immediately out of Sessions is a pretty tough climb. I worked my way through it and upon reaching the top of the climb I made my way towards Swallow Rocks (mile 34.9). I loved this section! It flattens out for the most part until you make one last small ascent before reaching the valley where the aid station is located. As you crest the hill, the scenery opens up in front of you and you’re presented with a breathtaking view of (essentially) the rest of the course. I’ve spent a lot of time in this area over the years, so it felt a bit like home to me. I plowed my way into the aid station, drank some Coke and grabbed a few cookies, and then it was off to meet my crew and my first pacer at the next stop: Big Mountain.
On my way to Big Mountain I was trying to hold back my emotions. I couldn’t believe I was really doin’ this thing! I also had a song come on that reminded me of my brother. I felt so blessed to be out here and wished he was able to share this day with me, but he’s fighting his own battles right now (maybe next race, Ty). Eventually I made my way around Big Mountain and heard cheers off in the distance. What great motivation! As I’m descending I start seeing pink flamingos and hearing vuvuzelas. I arrive to a spectacular scene and catch sight of my crew for the first time today. I’m quickly led to a scale to weigh in (2 pounds up), then escorted to my chair where my crew is at my beck and call. I spout the list off to Lydia who starts filling up my pack, I run to the john, and everything’s ready to go when I get back. Next thing I know I’m off with my first pacer for the day, Scott.
The Middle
Getting to Big Mountain in good shape was huge for me. Now that I had someone in tow the rest of the way, I felt like I could push just a little bit harder. Scott did great at keeping me on pace. I kept him informed of my goals to the next aid stations, and he always encouraged me to push - especially on the downhills. Occasionally, I’d tell him to run ahead and I’d try to catch him. This was a fun way for me to stay motivated and to hopefully extend my time cushion in the process. Scott is a very strong runner so I never actually caught him (he’d just end up waiting for me), but it was fun trying!
Eventually we made our way into the Alexander Springs A.S. (mile 47.4), now only a few minutes behind on my goal. Everyone at this station was wearing tie-dye and the atmosphere was great. They even had a table where they had a line of Coke (cup of Coca-Cola). I thought that was pretty clever! After a quick stop, we made our way down into the furnace that is the hottest section of the course. I ended up taking another break behind a tree through here and I think this is where my second big problem of the day started. Due to all the squatting I’d been doing, my right leg started hurting behind my knee (on the back side of my leg). I’ve never hurt in this area before and I wasn’t quite sure what to do. I tried stretching it out but that didn’t help. Eventually I just decided that I had to go along with it ‘til it got better (it only got worse throughout the race). We still made great time to the Lambs Canyon A.S. (mile 53.1) and gained 15 more minutes on my goal time!
I weighed in (now 2 pounds down), changed into my other shoes (1/2 size bigger), and changed socks as well. I had a few sweet blisters going on, but nothing that required too much attention so I just duct taped the problem areas. My stop was long, but definitely worth the time spent! The crew was awesome in getting me everything I needed! They always end up waiting for me – the sign of a great crew. I never have to wait for them! We took off up the road in Lambs – running every so often – and finally reached the trailhead to start the ascent. The ascent went pretty quickly (aside from another break) and Scott encouraged me to cruise on the descent down into Millcreek, just as the sun was beginning to go down. It felt great to open it up for a bit! After 3 miles of road up Millcreek Canyon, we arrived to the crew at the Upper Big Water A.S. (mile 61.7) where I changed into my night gear and donned the headlamps. I also bid farewell to Scott and thanked him. He was on-point the entire leg he ran with me and got me into this stop 40 minutes up on my projection! Huge thanks to him!
I left Upper Big Water with my next pacer, Bart. Bart and I have known each other since we were about 12. We’ve been through some crazy adventures together and it was great talking and passing the time with him. He made me forget about my pains and kept my mind focused elsewhere. It was exactly what I needed at the time! We ran all the downhills and flat portions on the way to Desolation Lake (mile 66.9) and I felt great upon arriving there. After a quick stop, we made our way up the climb out of Desolation and started on the road to Scott’s A.S. (mile 70.8).
This trail to Scott’s is relatively flat and runnable. I was able to run sections of it, but my form was way off at this point due to my knee getting more and more stiff, mostly due to the cold. After a quick stop at the aid station, we started on the trek to Brighton. I should have been able to run the entire Guardsman road down to the Big Cottonwood Highway, but I was altering my stride too much and it hurt to put much pressure on my knee for long periods of time. I think I ended up running about half of it and getting passed by several runners along the way. Bart kept my mind off my pains with more great stories and reminiscing. It was exactly what I needed because my mind was beginning to question whether or not I could finish.
After a long slog, we finally rolled into Brighton to cheers from the crew. I was elated to reach this point and was still over 10 minutes up on my projected pace! Credit to Bart for dragging my sorry butt to Brighton! I went into the lodge and weighed in (now 4 pounds up), refilled my pack and water, took a bathroom break, and re-taped my feet. After putting on a fresh pair of socks I was ready to tackle the last 25 with my dad.
The End
My dad will be the first to tell you that he’s not a fast runner. He’s finished numerous marathons so he has no problem with the distance. More importantly, he’s consistent and will tackle anything you put in front of him. Over the years hunting together, our group has teased him and has enshrined the name “Billygoat” upon him due to the terrain he goes through while we’re out there. I was lucky enough to have the “Billygoat” with me on the gnarliest part of the course.
The climb up to Point Supreme (10,450 feet & the highest point of the course) went exactly as I’d expected; a consistent slog. The time passed very quickly though and I began seeing a trend that would last the rest of the race – feeling pretty good on the ups and the knee revolting on the downs. Too bad there’s over 10,000 feet of cumulative descent during the last 25 miles! Just my luck! We found a decent pace into the Ant Knolls A.S. (mile 80.3) and only stayed briefly to rifle through our drop bag and refuel. After tackling the short, steep uphill known as “The Grunt”, we made our way over to the Pole Line Pass A.S. (83.4) where we refilled on water and took a few solid food items from the table.
Upon leaving Pole Line we were treated with another fairly long stretch of uphill. This was exactly what I needed since my knee was very stiff now. By this time, I was no longer able to straighten my leg, so the uphill was nice as I was able to keep it bent for the most part. The fun didn’t last for too long though, as another downhill was presented and I was forced to shuffle into the Rock Springs A.S. (mile 87.39). It was also very cold at this station. Reports were that it reached 23 degrees during the night, and I imagine that when I was here at 5:30AM, it would have been right around that number. The cold just made my knee tighter. I was pretty deflated to say the least! Not to mention that I knew what was ahead…
The next section offered the two most talked about downhill sections of the course – The Dive and The Plunge. Before race day I’d wanted to really hammer these, but with my current condition I knew I wouldn’t be able to. As we came into the bowl where The Dive is located, we looked straight down into the abyss to see runners’ lights below us. What had we come up against? I was baffled at how quickly the trail dropped into oblivion! Making my way down was painful, but I got through it. The Plunge then presented fine powdered dust that was at least 5 inches deep! I couldn’t believe people actually hiked these trails. It was far worse than I’d ever imagined! After suffering through it and a few more rollers, we made our way into the Pot Bottom A.S. (mile 93.1).
I could smell the barn! It was actually going to happen; I was going to finish! After re-evaluating, I figured I could get in under 29 hours. We shed a layer at the aid station, refueled, then we were off to tackle the final climb. I felt great on this climb out of Pot Bottom. It was a nice wide trail, then a nice dirt road. My dad and I were able to walk side by side and talk about how the race had progressed up to this point. Upon hitting the top of the road, we began descending into Lime Canyon for the final few miles of trail. I’m not gonna lie, the trail here sucked! It was technical and a bit steeper than I’d hoped for, honestly. It was also through here that I got passed at by at least 6 more runners. I couldn’t go any faster though, as my leg had progressed to a point where it hurt putting pressure on my knee at all. My dad was walking downhill as fast as I was able to run! After what seemed like an eternity, I came out onto the road with .7 miles to the finish. I knew I had to run at sub-8 minute pace to get my 29 hours, so I lowered my head and clenched my teeth while I ran it in for a 28:59:02 finish! I was done!
The Aftermath
The memories of my day at Wasatch are still so vivid. I wish I could express every emotion that I left out there on the trail. I wish Lydia could relive the race through my eyes. I wish my friends and family knew what I’d endured out there. Maybe this is what makes ultras so personal; you toy with agony and ecstasy for mile upon mile, yet you’re tormented with an inability to convey your experience. You can’t really do it justice, so you don’t say much. Instead, when asked what it was like, you respond with something like 'It was tough, but I had fun and came out alive'. One of my favorite quotes reads: “Those that understand don't need an explanation. Those that need an explanation will never understand.” Pretty fitting in this circumstance.
Of course my experience could not have been had without the help of many…
The hundreds of volunteers: Truly, they’re the ones who make it possible for us runners to have these experiences. I couldn’t believe the enthusiasm and willingness to help all day long. Kudos to them!
The runners: Congratulations to all of you, whether you finished or not. Thanks for the encouragement and camaraderie. It was a day full of memories to take home!
My pacers: They each provided me with exactly what I needed at the time. Scott, who helped me bank some time and encouraged me to push. Bart, who kept my mind off things when I was struggling and kept me on track. And dad, who pulled me along through the night and gave me a consistent pace to follow. Each of them did their job and then some! There’s no way I could have done it without them! I’d still be laying out there somewhere if it weren't for these guys.
My family: First, to my wife who supports me in all my crazy endeavors. She never bats an eye, just offers support and encouragement throughout. I could not have done this without her love and whole-hearted support! Also to my parents who come to each race and do whatever they can to support me (including pacing and crewing). They give up their time and efforts on my behalf and I couldn’t be more grateful. Also to my siblings who show up and offer their support (Britt was there at every crew stop screaming her guts out for me!). You all helped make this journey possible!
I can't quite say what lies in my future of running, but Wasatch will always hold a place in my heart. Now the question is: Have I been punished enough or will I keep coming back for more? Time holds the truth.
