The West Coast

by Sam

Early this summer I had my 10th anniversary getaway with my wife. We spent a week sight seeing on the west coast. No kids. No jobs. Just a week of extremely beautiful places with the one I love.

Day 1: Point Reyes National Seashore.
The sea is vast and amazing. We enjoyed summitting the high point in the park, Mt. Wittenberg, on a 7 mile loop through tall trees and soft ground. Some of the forest was so thick it was hauntingly dark during the day. My Honeybun mentioned that if all the trails I ran on were like that one she would run with me more often. We also got to see where the Elephant seals hang out and an amazingly beautiful sunset before camping for the night.

Can you find me?

Day 2: McClures Beach, Glass Beach, Avenue of the Giants  
McClures Beach is just below the Point Reyes Peninsula. It was fun to be on the sandy beach that is located below some cliffs. Any other time I've been to the beach it was flat land. Afterward we hiked a bit trying to spot some of the many elk on the peninsula, without much luck.

Drive, drive, drive...up the coast along the amazing Redwood Forests. We drove through a tree and hiked among the towering giants at the Rockefeller Loop. I cannot even begin to express how spiritual and peaceful it was to walk among the redwoods. It was surreal and reverent. I want to go back.

Drive, drive, drive. Glass beaches are interesting. Take some glass and dump it in the ocean and after time the power of the water and waves will dash it to pieces and polish it for you. They were cool to see but not necessarily a pleasant area overall.

Day 3: More Redwood Forest, Thor's well, Canon Beach
We camped at the Jedediah Smith Redwoods State Park. Maybe we heard a bear during the night... maybe. It kind of sounded like a deep pig snort with a throaty growl. I heard it grumble off into the distance and rolled over. My Sugar Momma was a bit more worried about it. This was day two of camping. Our first night we observed that there were pay-with-quarter showers on the outside of the bathrooms but didn't have any so we made sure to get some for night two. Hiking, driving and humidity don't always leave me smelling the best. Unfortunately, the second campsite we were at had the showers inside the bathrooms. So...we woke up early and shared a shower in the boys restroom. I'm pretty sure the two people that came in to relieve themselves didn't notice I had a companion sharing the stall, if they did they were probably just jealous.

We hiked the Boy Scout Tree Trail about 6 miles out and back. Once again, I cannot even begin to express with words the majesty and reverence these forests invoke. The trail was rather easygoing, in fact, my Baby Doll actually ran almost all of the way back. We talked about ultra running and the possibility of sharing trails more often in the future...distant future. I love spending time with people on trails. I enjoy getting to know them. There's something about spending hours with people traversing a mountain that creates a bond. I rarely get the chance to do this with my Dear Heart. Sharing what I love doing with the person I love most in one of the most sacred places I've ever been left a profound and lasting imprint on my soul.

Along the Oregon coast you'll find several treasures. Among these are Thor's well and Canon Beach. Thor's well is a spot where the incoming waves go under a rock and spew out a hole like a geyser. The wind was fierce and it was colder than it seemed but I was mesmerized by it. Drive, drive, drive. Canon beach is just amazing. We strolled along and watched the sunset and fell deeply and madly in love with each other.

Thor's well.

Canon Beach

Falls at Oneonta Gorge.

Day 4: Biking Portland, Oneonta Gorge, Multnomah Falls
We met up with some friends in Portland and rented some bikes for a few hours. It was fun smelling the rose gardens, riding along the river and eating some Voodoo Donuts. Afterward we went to an amazingly beautiful place called the Oneonta Gorge. Everyone else went too. It's a short 1/2 mile hike through the river to a waterfall. The river doesn't get deeper than a foot or so except for that bottleneck part where it was almost to my chest. Swimming in the pool under the waterfall was cool. I was happy to outdo Aaron Williams on this waterfall. There's only one catch to this place. Right at the entrance to the gorge there's an enormous log jam. Wood is slippery when wet. It caused a lot of traffic with less than stable people trying to get across, over and around the tangle of logs. But don't let that stop you. This is a must do if you're in Portland.

Log Jam entrance to Oneonta Gorge.

Along the Colombia River there are several waterfalls near the Portland area. We drove literally a mile down the road and hiked to Multnomah Falls, which can be seen from the road. It's a short climb to the bridge underneath the falls, but if you continue on to the top it's a bit more than a mile and over a 1000' climb. These places were breathtakingly beautiful but overcrowded.

Multnomah Falls.

View from the top of Multnomah.

Day 5: Crater Lake, Lava Beds Caves
Crater Lake is a wonder. From down below it looks like a bunch of peaks at the top of a mountain range. If you never ventured to the ridge you'd never know there was an enormous lake full of the prettiest, clearest blue water you ever saw. My little Buttercup and I attempted to climb Watchman peak but there was too much snow on the trail. I was bummed and frustrated. I could've gone by myself but didn't. I'm a peak bagger and I've got peak fever, so I was in a bad way after missing a summit. It took me a while to cool down.

Crater Lake

On the northern border of California and Oregon is the Lava Beds National Monument. It's a rather drab area that actually looks a lot like Central Utah. The fields of lava rock are pretty in their own way. What's fun are the caves. We arrived just as the park was closing, but we could still walk into the park and visit the caves, just not drive right up to them. It was a hot day and it always amazes me how dropping 10' underground is so much colder. If you've never been spelunking you don't really know what kind of limits you may have. My Chickadee found a new limit. Going underground into a dark mysterious area is somewhat disquieting and eerie. Coming to terms with it can be difficult. It's somewhat like running through the dark by yourself for the first time. Except, I'm unfamiliar with the creatures that may be lurking in caves. Anyway, it was like a teenage dream for me. My Heartthrob was a bit scared so she was hanging onto me for protection as I guided her through the caves. We went down into a few different caves but the coolest was the Sentinel Cave because it has two entrances. So we were able to go in one way and out another.

Lava Rock Fields.

Lower Sentinel Cave entrance.

It's not very often I get to share the trails with my Sweetheart. This trip was the best way to celebrate our 10th anniversary. Juggling work, church, kids and a marriage is hard enough, throw in the mix an insatiable desire to run trails and summit peaks and you may have a hard thing to swallow. That's why my Sweetie Pie is the best for me. My running accomplishments are all impossible without her support. I love mountains. I love trails. I love running. But I'd give it all up for her in a heartbeat. Luckily, I haven't had to do that.

Top of Utah Marathon Race Report

Me and my sister-in-law Annie

By Steve

It's been two years since I ran a street marathon.  It's not that I haven't wanted to run one, it's just that with limited funds for running, I have wanted to spend it on ultra races that challenged me more and offer a much better experience.  But my sister-in-law Annie really wanted me to run one with her, and I've always said I would run any race that she runs, so about 4 weeks ago, I signed up to run the Top of Utah Marathon in Logan.

It's a great course.  Downhill for 17 miles, and then it rolls through the neighborhoods for the last 9 miles.  This was the third time I've run it, and I've always liked it.  I did notice that the number of entrants was significantly smaller this year vs the last time I ran it.  This is likely due to the Big Cottonwood Canyon marathon that was run the week prior, and has likely stolen most of the interest that TOU used to have. 

Compared to telling the story of an Ultra Marathon, there isn't much to say about a street marathon any more.  I ran on pavement for 26.2 miles.  There was a canyon and some houses. 

My goal on this one was to beat Sam's best marathon time, which was 3:17:27 from 3 years ago.  Although, I should add that he hasn't run a street marathon in almost 3 years, and I'm pretty sure he would do much better than that now.  But at any rate, I felt like I had to beat that time.  So, planning for the race, I set my pace for what each mile would need to be to put me somewhere in the 3:36:00 range, and stuck with that pace from the beginning.  8:08 down through though mile 17, 8:45 on the short uphill sections, and 8:24 otherwise.  It worked beautifully.  I was a tad slower through the last few miles than I had wanted, but I still finished strong.  My final time ended up being 3:37:17, which put me a whopping 10 seconds faster than Sam's PR.  It also put me 5th place in my division, which is Men 35-39.

With that time, I crushed my own PR by over 10 minutes.  After the race, you tend to ponder on what you should have done differently to run a better race.  On this one, I can't think of a thing.  I feel I ran a very smart race.  The "downside" of that is that I now know there is nothing I can do except to train harder in order to PR again next time.  I guess losing weight would certainly help too.

Division:  5/25
Men:  56/233
Total Finishers:  73/438

Skyline Drive 50k

By Steve

It is official.  Monday's are my new distance days.  Wanting to give my new distance day a good test run, I opted to do a whopping 50k and see how I fared.  In short, it was fantastic.  With the exception of the last mile of climbing through the morning heat, I felt really good the whole day. 

A couple differences between this time and last attempt:

1-  I opted to go counter-clockwise this time in order to make it so I could stop at Farmington Canyon on my way to the Bountiful B and stash a drop bag.  After stashing it at what would be mile 24, I made it to the Bountiful B at 4:00am.  Matt Ricks met me there and ran the first 6 miles with me.  

2-  I tagged the summit of Bountiful Peak this time, whereas last time Sam and I ran past it.  I did make the mistake of attempting to summit the wrong sub-peak, and lost about 8 minutes of time upon realizing my mistake.

3-  I was able to shave off about 3/4 of a mile by not having to drop all the way to the parking lot at the bottom of the canyon. By stashing my aid bag at Firebreak road, I was able to cut that section off and make it almost exactly a 50k distance.

So... what's the verdict on Monday distance day?  I felt better than I have on just about any distance run I've done all year.  Why oh why was I so slow to learn this lesson?   At any rate, this was a very good run that was long overdue.

Monkey on his throne

Another monkey sitting on his throne

Bountiful Peak throne and sunrise

Summit Melon on Pfiefferhorn

by Sam

It's not every day on the trail that people compliment you melon. I mean really, who just says: "Dude, nice melon"? It is a nice melon, after all. But do people really have to stare at it like it's some sort of toe fungus? I mean, how can you say that its a beautiful melon and then stare at it like that? Yet, as I climbed the Red Pine trail up toward Pfiefferhorn all the hikers could say was: "whoa, look at that melon" or "wait, did you see that guy's melon?" or "can I take a picture of your melon?" I've never had anyone take a picture of my melon before. It was kind of awkward.

Looking down into Red Pine from the ridge. Also the Cottonwood Ridgeline can be seen across the way.

Cy runs along Red Pine Lake.

The climb seemed harder than normal. Some people didn't compliment my melon at all, they just stared with amazement or dumbfoundment (pretty sure that's not a word). The sideways glances made me feel out of place. Maybe, that's why I was slower than normal. I couldn't take the pressure of the random compliments and the drop jaw stares. This has never happened to me before. I've never had so many people obsess about my melon that way. That's why I usually run in the cover of dark. Much easier to hide one's melon when it's midnight.

"What's that sound?" I heard people say as I breathlessly crested the ridge above Red Pine Lake. My breathing was much more labored than normal. It seemed I had to use my arms to pull myself up. Normally, I can rely on my strong legs to push me up. Not today. My melon was weighing me down apparently. It was soaking in all the attention. Can you blame it? Never before has it gotten that much attention.

Usually people are asking about my monkey. Now that I'm used to. Anyway, onward and upward. Due to my over-sized melon it was difficult crossing the knife edge ridge. My balance was way outta wack and my legs were shaky. It was nice to have a cool breeze even though it sometimes threatened to blow me off the mountain. Finally, I arrived at the last scramble to the summit. I was anxious to get up there. I pushed as hard as I could but it felt like I was moving like a sloth. I guess all that talk about my melon and the strange looks got to me. Wouldn't you know it, just as I was about to summit some hikers sitting up there had to say, "dude, you made it all the way to the top with that melon." Well, of course I did. It is my melon after all. How could I summit without it?

Pfiefferhorn summit.

In case you didn't notice, I'm holding a watermelon in the picture above. Yep, it's not every day people see a 25 lb. watermelon strapped to someone's back on a high and strenuous mountain trail. It was a hard feat and a tasty treat. Six lucky hikers will never forget the day some random trail runner supplied them with watermelon on Pfiefferhorn's summit. Countless others will not forget the day they saw a trail runner carrying up a watermelon, then pass them on the way back and say: "dude, weren't you the guys with the watermelon?"

Schedules

By Steve

Schedules, schedules, without our schedules, life would be as shaky as a fiddler on the roof.

At the beginning of Summer this year, I attempted to do my first 100 mile training week, by running to the summit of Ben Lomond peak every day for a week.  This was only possible because it was the one week of summer when the kids were all out of school, and we somehow managed to not schedule any family activities that week.  Every morning I woke up at 4:30am, made sure I was at the trailhead by 5:30 am, and was at work by 9:00am every day.   While not making the complete goal, I still ended the week with 84 miles and 15,000' of vert.  That is a record for me, but even during that seemingly available week, I still found myself sarcastically saying to Sam,

"Who would have thought it would be so hard to find 20 hours of spare time per week to run?"

Obviously, with busier schedules, it becomes even more of a challenge.  Family, work, kids school schedules, and church activities are priorities to which running has to take the back seat.  Sam has mentioned many times on this blog how we have found that running in the dark is often the only time we are able to get out.  Matt Ricks was the master who taught us the art of the "early-early" and "late-late" runs.  And this has kind of worked for a while now, but for the last year or so, something has felt a little off for me.

Wednesday night, Sam and I climbed Mount Raymond and Gobblers Knob via Butler Fork.
We reached Raymond's summit at 11:00pm, and Gobblers at midnight.

A long time ago I created a rule for myself that I am not allowed to do any run on Saturdays that leave me too tired and grumpy the rest of the day to do anything meaningful around the house.  Doing so only left a longer honey-do list which I was never able to get done. So long runs on Saturdays are out...

So I've tried for the last 2 years to make Fridays my long runs.  And you can ask Chris, Matt, and Sam how well that has worked for me.  With a standing date night on Thursday nights with my wife, more often than not, I end up having to cancel the Friday 4:00 am run, which has really messed with my mind.  It has left me in this ugly cycle of often getting less than 20 miles per week total running, and still somehow managing to feel tired towards the end of each week.

Last night,  I packed up my running gear and work clothes so I could go do a huge run this morning.  Then as I was sitting with the wife at date night, knowing I wouldn't get enough sleep, I had a moment of clarity.  Why am I trying to shoe horn my long runs into Fridays?  Thursday night and Friday morning are usually the time of the week when I least want to get up and run, and usually feel like crap. Why don't I do my long runs on the day that I feel the best, instead of the worst?

So, starting this next week, I've got a new schedule for myself. I'm throwing out the old paradigm of running the days that I think I'm supposed to, and instead basing it on the weekly pattern of how I feel on each day.  Monday morning will now be my long distance day, because that is the day I always feel the best each week.  Then I sleep a full night on Monday night followed by a "late-late" run Tuesday night with Sam.  On average, that should be 30 or more miles in the first two days of the week.  That is a huge improvement for me.  Short/speed runs on Wednesday and Thursday, will then be followed by a moderate Saturday run.

Will it work?  Am I just overthinking things and wasting blog space?  I guess we will find out next week.   Monday I plan to do the Skyline Drive 50k by myself before work.  Here's to new schedules!

Capitol Reef 100 - Adventure Run

Aquarius Plateau, Boulder Mountain, West of Capitol Reef

by Sam

To the west of Capitol Reef National Park you'll find the Aquarius Plateau, some 6,000' higher. It's the highest plateau in North America. How high? you might ask. Well, it stays right around 11,000' most of the time. Living under the Wasatch Mountain Range puts this in perspective. Just picture yourself looking up to your favorite peak, like Timpanogos or Lone Peak. That's 11,000' and that's the elevation of about half the Capitol Reef 100 course. Needless to say, it's high, for a long long time.

Elevation Profile stolen from the Capitol Reef 100 site.

This was the inaugural year for the race. Whether that had to do with the small number of participants or not, I don't know, but only 29 people started the 100. I finished as number 14 out of 16 total finishers, which means 13 people DNF'd (did not finish). Everyone I talked to seemed to use the word "brutal" to describe the course, even the 50 milers. It was definitely difficult but it did not seem extreme to me. However, I do a fair amount of adventure runs and peak bagging where there are no trails or where boulder fields must be traversed. Phil Lowry best described the trail, "Trail??...  Cairn!...Flag!...Cairn!...Trail??... F@!#" This plateau is one of the most remote areas around and seldom used so the trail isn't really obvious and the markings weren't always easy to follow.

Burnt forest mist. (sounds like an ice cream flavor)

Sunrise

Morning Mist

As the race started we enjoyed cool temps and foggy skies, which lasted most of the morning. At the first hill we walked a bit and Steve recited, "I feel good, I feel great, I feel wonderful." from the movie What About Bob? A fellow runner laughed and when he saw us again at mile 56 he recited it back to us. The first 4 miles were on 4x4 roads through beautiful red rock. Then the scenery changed to pines, aspens and some burnt forest on single track. The last OTM adventure was Peakfest, which also had a lot of mist, so everyone got to enjoy our singing of Paloma.

Lady Friends

The first Aid Station (mile 6) seemed to come too soon and Steve and I both felt good so we blew through it without really stopping. A mistake we regretted about four miles later when we ran out of food and bonked with about 3 more miles before the next aid station. The burnt forest was eerie with the dense mist. The trail was overgrown with new growth making it hard to go fast. I rolled my ankle on an unseen rock which normally wouldn't be a problem but unfortunately I sprained my ankle about three weeks ago and it's still tender. I taped it tight and wore a compression sock but this roll had me walking for a few minutes. The people at the next aid station (mile 13) were making pancakes so we refueled and after another mile felt much better. During this time we passed lake after lake after lake. We enjoyed sharing the trail with some lady friends who were also doing their first 100 (they didn't finish). During this time we also graced the air with Barbara Ann and Sam, You Made the Pants Too Long. Arriving at an aid station we are always asked "what can I get you?" Another runner once replied, "a million dollars", Steve and I immediately broke into If I had a Million Dollars.

Sam stacking a cairn, don't want anyone to get lost.

Steve climbing the plateau

The climb up to the plateau was steep, rocky and windy. Usually on climbs everyone settles into a groove and gets quiet as they push through the pain. Instead, I sang Let's Go Fly a Kite. After we crested I don't remember much of the trail over the course of the next two aid stations (ending around mile 32). I remember enjoying the view along the ridges and the company, which consisted of Steve, and Dan from Minnesota, who we passed back and forth now and then. He was in the pain cave struggling with the altitude. It seemed that our easygoing attitude helped him a bit. He was at the finish line when I crossed it and was good company but honestly I didn't recognize him dressed differently and cleaned up. I sat and talked with him for 20 mins before realizing who he was. Steve did for more than an hour, so I guess I win there. 

Sam & Steve on the ridge, Capitol Reef far behind.

Dan & Steve in one of the meadows.

Steve and I felt really good leaving the aid station at mile 32. We had made good time on the plateau, not really suffering from the effects of the high elevation. Unfortunately, this was not the case for many people. We began to pass more people one at a time and continued to maintain our lead ahead of our lady friends. We descended the stock trail fairly quickly despite it being a nasty steep trail that the cattle go up and down. Peter van Horn called it "the waterfall of rocks." My mind suddenly turned toward the not soon enough future when I'd have to climb back up this nasty trail. I didn't look forward to that. When we arrived at the last aid station before the 50 mile turn around we came upon a handful of people who didn't seem to be doing well. We refueled with the regular 3 glasses of coke, ensure, potatoes and candy, grabbed our headlamps and jackets and took off.

Steve showing a face of "what the heck?" to the stock trail

The remaining 8 miles to the turn around were practically all down hill through one continuous large aspen grove. The miles flew by over glorious single track as we started to cross paths with the people ahead of us already making the return trip. I wondered at the ease of these downhill miles that would not be so easy when we had to come back up them. We ran into Davy Crockett, practically the only person we knew before the race, about 2 miles from the turn around. We shared a moment of encouragement and went on our way. We were pleased to come in to the half way mark under 15 hours with a time of 14:49:54.

The Aspen Groves.

The trip back up through the aspens was not as difficult as I expected. We left the turnaround with a dude named Bryan but after about a mile he decided to push on faster than us. I was feeling good but wanted to reserve my strength for the climb up the stock trail. Bryan didn't get terribly ahead of us because we could see his headlamp every so often. We passed Dan and the lady friends, they looked cheery but all decided not to go on at the 50 mark. When we got to the aid station I was sleepy and told Steve I needed 10 mins to sleep. He said to take 20. We both lied down on some cots for about 7 mins. and didn't sleep so we decided to push on.  It was about midnight. Jeff from Arizona said he'd be right behind us and caught up about half way up the waterfall of rocks. I went painfully slow up the steep nasty climb. There were two switchbacks too many. But finally we got back up on the plateau and started the game of find the next flag marker.

Sunset.

After leaving the 50 mile mark, Steve had two main goals. Make it back up the stock trail and then make it to dawn. One down. The trail was much more windy than I remembered. It seemed to snake through trees and around boulders endlessly. Horseshoe after horseshoe. It seemed to double back on itself needlessly. We did pretty well with the route finding but got lost a few times nonetheless. In the wee hours of dark and dreariness we banded together to forge through the night. It was cold, below freezing, in fact. Much colder than Steve and I planned for. Steve had on his short sleeve, a base layer long sleeve and my short sleeve, which made him look fat. I had a long sleeve and a light rain jacket. I was ok, Steve was cold. Suddenly we came upon a runner sitting on a rock. Here's how our conversation went:

Us: "How's it going?"

Him: "I'm trying to get to the Long Lake aid station."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I left Pleasant Lake around 6:00 p.m. and have been walking around in circles getting lost."

"6:00? Dude, that was like 9 hours ago. (It was now around 2:30 a.m.)"

"The last few runners told me how to get there but I just keep coming back to this spot."

"Are you hungry? Do you need anything?"

"I'm ok, I've been carrying my drop bag from the last aid station because I didn't want to wait for it when I dropped. Can you tell me how to get to the next aid station?"

"No, you're coming with us."

If the dude had been wandering around alone for some nine hours I wasn't about to leave him or let him go on. He didn't seem to need further convincing and gladly joined us. The next hour and a half I began to doze while I walked, stumbling a few times. The aid station at mile 66 must have been moved because it seemed like it took an hour longer than it should have to get there. When we arrived, sometime after 4:00 a.m., we were all wasted in one way or another and collapsed onto the cots and chairs to rest. I tried to sleep under a thin sleeping bag and couldn't get warm. Steve sat in a chair in front of the propane heater. Jeff took another cot and our lost friend the other chair. After about 45 mins. of restlessness I asked how everyone was. All I got were some moans and groans. I rolled over and continued to attempt sleep. After about half and hour more I said firmly "we gotta get out of here."

Not sure what to think about this...

About this time two other people caught up to us at the aid station. Jester skirt lady who we'd seen the previous day and an older looking fellow. Steve said he was done and asked what I was doing. I just looked at him. My stomach was a tiny bit uneasy but my spirits were high. He said, "you're going to drop aren't you." I replied, "don't say that" and got off the cot and readied myself to leave with the new arrivals. Jeff did too. It was cold bu dawn was upon us, goal number two met. But Steve,'s phlegm cough was flaring up in full force and he didn't feel that he could carry on. So, Jeff and I along with skirt lady and the other guy left.

It was around 6:20 a.m. We'd wasted too much time there and were now looking at the possibility of running too close to the cut off times. What's more, we missed a turn and came to a familiar looking meadow. Despite the fact that there were no flags we took the path we thought should be there. Luckily, Jeff talked us into going back and finding the trail because it did one of those horseshoe bends and we would have gotten way off trail. Route finding continued to be an issue but with the rising of the sun our spirits lifted considerably and we pushed to the next aid station.

I felt really good, tired of course, but not sore or sleepy or hungry. We were ok on time cutoffs so things were looking good. This was the last aid station on the high plateau. I snuck ahead of the group on some downhill portions and maintained a steady lead until I started getting texts from everyone at the same time. The wife, and fellow OTM's Jeff and Chris Krash wanted to know how I was doing. Due to the texting the others caught up to me. Jeff and skirt lady maintained a slow but steady pace. Tony, the older fellow (by older, I mean not young like me. He's probably like 50 or something), maintained pace with me. We had a good time talking peaks and trails in the Wasatch. Finally, we hit the steeper descent off the plateau and I let gravity carry me down. I didn't see Tony again until I was leaving the next aid station. Unfortunately, there was a miscommunication with the cutoff times and the leader of the aid station asked us for our bib numbers. I willfully surrendered my bib and informed the young kid that he could return it to me at the finish line because I wasn't stopping and I'd make it there before the overall cutoff, if not before. It was 11:27 a.m. and we had 19 more miles. The race had been going for 29 1/2 hours.

Speaking of aid stations, for each of the last three I started to see them around every corner for about a mile before they actually showed up. Call it a mirage, a hallucination or what have you but it always ended up being huge boulders or fallen trees. The weirdest on by far was when I saw a fellow OTM, Matt Ricks, sitting on a fallen tree waiting for me. When I got to him however he had gone. The mind does some interesting things when you're past all limits of fatigue and sanity. I guess you could call it hallucinating but to me it just seemed like my mind was trying to find reason to everything.

Feeling pumped to live up to my word and beat the clock I pushed through the ups and downs around the next few lakes. The time flew by and suddenly I was at the next aid station (13 miles left). Once again, Tony came in right as I was leaving. We exchanged encouraging words and I think I didn't see him again until the finish. It was getting hot and I was entering the exposed burnt forest section. That part was awful. Up and down, in and out, around, repeat. 50K and 50 mile runners started to pass me. Phil Lowry passed me. I'd been doing the math for a while and I knew that if I maintained 20 min. miles I'd make it. I felt pretty good but didn't push any limits.

Sprinting across the finish line. Photo by Ben Light.

When I had about 7 miles left I heard another 50 mile runner coming up behind me. I didn't recognize him at first but it was my buddy Matt van Horn. Later at the finish he said I had a glazed over look, I was stumbling, and I had slurred speech. I was coming up on 34 hours. I was happy to be with someone I knew. He mentioned what almost everyone had, that the course was brutal and he didn't know how I'd done it twice. We chit chatted for a moment then he offered to pace me to the finish. It was a gracious offer but I didn't want him to slow down for me so I told him I'd keep up as long as I could. We blew threw the last aid station and started the last 6 miles of downhill over 4x4 trails.


I don't know how I did it but I was able to keep up with him. We hovered around 11 min. miles until the last one where, according to Matt, I was running at 5:00 min. mile pace. I've done countless runs with significantly less mileage and haven't been able to sprint to the end. I was amazed. It almost didn't seem real, as if I were watching myself from the sidelines. As with all ultras I was greeted with applause and happy people despite being one of the last to finish the 100 miler. I was winded and stumbled around as I got high fives and pats on the back. I couldn't find my voice and Steve said I sounded like a girl, but I was done. My finish time was 34:58:58, just under 35 hours. I know that if MVH hadn't caught me I'd have finished much closer to 36 hours. I wouldn't have pushed it that much. I owe him a debt of gratitude for just being at the right place at the right time.

One of many to come.

I enjoyed resting with friends at the finish line and being off my feet, which apparently had a few blisters. I was glad to have the tape off my ankle and that I didn't further injure it. Before this race I had my doubts of ever accomplishing this dream. It was a dream and passed by like one. But it's a dream that calls to me. One that I'm sure I'll find myself in again soon enough.

Hangout after the race with the WMW. Photo by Greg McIff