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Moving on

by Mark Plucinski

Mark Plucinski, 100-mile finisher and spouse Karen, 2nd Gal in the 50-mile.

There is a scene in the movie "Wall Street" where a stock broker (played by Charlie Sheen) is about to be arrested by federal agents for insider trading. Hal Holbrook (his boss) puts his arm around his shoulders and tells him "Buddy, when a man is at his lowest point, and he stares into the abyss, the reflection he sees is how he'll come out when he reaches the other side".

On Saturday, October 9th at 6:00 AM, I stared into the abyss. It was located in beautiful Cassoday, KS at the starting line of the Heartland 100 Mile Run, my first attempt at that distance. Looking inside myself, I knew that I had done the training, that the taper had gone well, and that my focus on staying on top of calories and hydration was wise. Still, the abyss reflected back to me a picture of someone full of self doubt.

It's funny though. Once the race began, the self doubt was replaced by curiosity about how long this day was going to be. There is a certain familiarity to the rhythm of running that gave me confidence.

Rather than a mile-by-mile recap (which would no doubt leave all of you either screaming for mercy or turning on "Oprah'), I'll just hit a few of the highlights of the day (and the night) that made up my first 100 miler.

The first 25 miles were relatively uneventful. I ran quite a bit with Karen (who was running the 50 miler), the weather was cool, and the sunrise beautiful. The dawn cast shadows across the Flint Hills and the diverse colors were an awesome sight. Manned aid stations were spread out roughly six or seven miles apart with unmanned water stops in between. The true highlight came not long after sunrise, when my lovely bride pointed to a lump on the side of the road and said "Hey! There's a dead coyote!" Hmm. . . would the carcass be a harbinger of things to come?

At 25 miles, we entered the Teeterville Road aid station. This was the turnaround point for Karen, who was tied for first at that point. A quick stop with our crew, Mike and Lea Baxter, a good luck kiss to Karen and I headed off into the abyss once again.

The trip to the next aid station was climaxed by the highest climb on the race course, and as it was still early, I was dumb enough to run the whole thing. Not long after (and still two miles out of the next aid station at Texaco Hill), I started running low on water. The temperature was climbing into the 80's, the good old Kansas wind was blowing a gale out of the south, and the mental energy that had carried me the first 30 miles began to wane. I started working in walking breaks, and before long was out of water. The smell of dead coyote was beginning to fill the air. Not long afterwards (and much to my delight) the Texaco Hill aid station came into view. A refill, some calories via PB&J and I was off again.

The bad patch continued through Ridge Line, but when I reached the Matfield Green station at 42.8 miles, Mike and Lea were there, as well as a runner who had been in front of me but was now not sure what his name was. I started feeling better almost immediately. Lea suggested I try some fruit, so I took a slice of watermelon and got an almost immediate lift!

Two vivid memories stand out from the next twenty miles, both of which have to do with cold fluids. Those aid station workers at the 50 mile turnaround sure know how to prepare a bottle of water. It was about 90% ice and a little bit of water when they handed it to me. Thirty seconds later it was 50/50 and the coldest water I'd tasted all day. Another huge lift! The other memory is running out of water two miles from the Ridge Line 63 mile aid station, where I was to meet Mike so he could pace me into the finish. I was stressing over the fact that I my bottle was empty when around the bend came Lea, jogging along toward me with a cold bottle filled with Powerade! She totally saved my life, and how they knew enough to have her do that was beyond me. We started running toward the aid station and she told me that Karen had finished second in the 50 mile race, getting a personal best by over an hour!

At Ridge Line AS, I hooked up with Mike and for the first time began to feel confident that I was indeed going to see the finish line. We ran along, and it seemed that he had saved up every story about everything that had ever happened to him just for me. It kept my mind off the act of running, and he also kept me dwelling on what was to come, not on what had already been done. Good strategy!

The sun went down at about 70 miles, and with the cooler temps came a surprising amount of energy. We ran most of the way to the 75 mile aid station at Teeterville, where I met Karen for the first time since the same station earlier in the day. I gave her a big hug and congratulated her on a great race in the 50. I then proceeded to plop into a chair. Big mistake. Huge mistake. I started chilling almost immediately, which I’m sure flipped her out slightly as there were 25 miles yet to cover. I decided it would be better once I started moving again, so Mike and I kissed our wives goodbye and headed in the darkness again.

Alternating walking on uphills with running downhills and jogging straights we negotiated the next 8 miles very slowly. I felt like we were moving along very efficiently but the watch, unfortunately, did not agree. Just before reaching the Lapland aid station at 83 miles, we noticed a headlamp in the distance, but it was still far off so no big deal. We hooked up with Karen and Lea once again, I changed into a long sleeve shirt, ate, hydrated, and we took off running as it was a downhill exit.

I had warned Mike about the next stretch of road. Hill after hill, a poorly maintained lane with big rocks, this was a road that on the outbound part of the race I was darn glad to get off of and now we had to navigate it in the dark. At least we had company - a not very amused coyote whose eyes shone quite brightly in my headlamp, a herd of horses who didn't really care for the James Taylor song that I was serenading Mike with , and last but not least, an escort between miles 90 and 91. Small, black and furry it waddled down the middle of the road. “What is that?” asked Mike. “Umm. . . it's either a cat or. . . nope! It's a skunk!" "This is another fine mess you've gotten us into!" was his reply. The skunk paced us for about a mile before ducking off into a pond (get it? Duck? Pond??) . He must have thought we smelled bad enough without his help, because he never sprayed us.

The previously mentioned headlamp behind us was getting closer and closer as well, and when Mike and I pulled into the final aid station at 91.5 miles, its owner, a young man in his twenties, showed up just before we left. That was the bad news.

The good news is that we were finally finished with that horrible stretch of lane and now on a county road that was much more runnable. I started picking up the pace, and the surface combined with the flatness of the road (hence fewer uphills) allowed us to put 10 minutes on the young fellow between there and the finish line.

About 3 miles out we could clearly see the water tower of Cassoday, and not too much later we saw the bright lights of the finish line. The author William Least Heat Moon, in his book Prairie Erth waxes about the fact that one of the wrong ways to walk the prairie is to keep your eyes on the horizon, because it's farther than it looks. We violated that law over the last three miles. We ran and ran and ran and ran and walked and ran some more but never got any closer to the d$%#! lights of the finish line. Finally, after what seemed to be about an hour of running, we reached the asphalt road that leads out of the abyss and to the promised land a quarter mile away. Cowbells rang and wives and volunteers cheered us in. I thanked Mike profusely several times before he reminded me that we hadn't crossed the finish line yet. Before I knew it, I passed the clock that read 19:52. I looked into the abyss one more time, and the reflection I saw was of one tired, hungry, delighted runner.

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If there was ever a day that everything went exactly as planned, this year at RR100 was it. My GREAT friend and running partner in crime Kyle Amos made the trip to Texas with me, not only to act as my crew but also to unselfishly run the last 40 miles with me. My plan for the day was to travel as light as possible and get as many miles in before evening as possible. With a little experimenting, Kyle and I have found that a Hammer Gel every 20mins is just about perfect, you give the body 90 calories each time and you can sustain energy forever!!! So that was the plan, 1 hammer gel every 20 mins all day long.

The start of the race was packed, well over 350 runners in the 100 mile alone, so I wanted to get up front so I didn't get hung up in any conga lines on the single track. This plan went perfect, I was behind two guys going into the single track and they were cruising at my speed. The first 40 mins were in the dark, when the sun came up so did the speed a little. I am a little hesitant on trails in the dark, last time I ran a trail was Leadville in August, so the mixture of thousands of tree roots and darkness is not a good combo for me. My goal was 2:50 for the first loop, I believe I came in a little under that, but felt like a million bucks after 20 miles, only 80 to go. I brought 2 waist pouches that would hold my gels, so when I came into the start /finish area, Kyle had the next one pre-loaded and I was gone!!! Another goal we set was no longer than 1 minute in any aide stations the first 4 loops, we were sticking to that so far.

The second loop just flew right by, I was still in shorts and a t-shirt, you could not have asked for a more picture perfect day to run, no clouds, slight breeze and mild temps. When I got back around to the start finish Kyle had everything ready to go and asked if I wanted some fruit or something, at this point my stomach was doing so well I declined and just told him the gels were doing it, 60 to go. I knew at this point I had to survive loop 3 and then I picked up Kyle and it was a whole new race, but loop 3 was going just as smooth as loop 2???? By the time I seen Kyle at the mile 55 aide station I was starting to get very hot, I think the temps were knocking on 60 degrees, but like the smart runner he is, he had an ice bandana and ice cold water ready, 35 sec pit stop, to this point we had no stops over 45secs I believe. I left that aide station and knew in 5 miles it was Kyle and I for the rest of the day, and I just remember felling a sense of relief, I hit the single track and my legs just moved so smooth I was just smiling the whole time????

Back to the start/finish, Kyle of course was standing there ready to roll, new loaded pouch, water bottle and another ice bandana, only 40 to go!!!! I looked at him and said "I don't mean to be rude, but I am zoning with this iPod, so if I don't talk much sorry bro". He laughed and said "just run". So off we went, at this point I no longer had to look at my watch, I would here in a loud voice "2mins till you eat, take an S-Cap also!" He kept me on my 20mins and never let me falter, he would yell, "Drink more water" and I would drink. At this point my brain was working very slowly, but the legs were still jamming. By the middle of loop 4 the sun was starting to go down and I remember thinking, it sure would be nice to get back to the start finish before dark. Next thing I knew we were back at the start finish and it was almost dark. WOW, 4 loops in the light, but when the sun went down so did the temps about 10 to 15 degrees instantly.

I changed into a long sleeve t-shirt and put a beanie on and we were out for loop five, 20 more miles and its over!!! With the clothing change, Kyle had me in and out in fewer than 2 mins!!!! Talk about a crew that has it together, he never faltered once the whole day. While standing there Joe Prusaitis the race director asked me if I wanted to know what place I was in, I remember looking at him and almost yelling "NO", but I just shook my head and said "no thanks Joe". I did not want to be freaking out the last loop wondering if someone was going to pass me or not, the whole day went smooth and the overall goal for the day was a sub-18hour finish which if I could hold it together for 20 more miles was well within reach. I could tell from the beginning of loop 5 my legs were not moving fast, but they were still moving. Angel bought me the Garmin 310XT for Christmas, which has 18hours of battery life, so every mile it would vibrate and tell me my mile time. If I remember correctly I was gimping around at about an 11 � to 12 min pace the last loop?? It is all a blur to be honest I was so tired. After the final aide station we had 4 and a half miles to go and I wanted to get happy but just couldn't yet, and then it happened. One mi le to the finish I got lazy and took my eyes off the trail for a split second, and the next thing I knew I was flying. For those of you that do not know, Huntsville State Park Trails are covered in tree roots, so this adds a bit off difficulty to the course, you're just not running on a flat trail, you have to constantly be moving every which way. Anyhow, after I heard the loud "thud" of my body slamming the ground I did a quick assessment, toes moved, fingers moved and no visible blood. As I rolled over and seen Kyle he had this very strange look on his face, all he said was "you ok"? Needless to say, mile 99 no damn fall was going to stop me at this point. As we entered the final two hundred yards I finally began to smile, I knew I had made it.

Final thoughts-My final time was 16:28, never did I think that was a possibility but I never hit a low or a funk this whole race, eating on the 20's kept my energy up all day. I never ate a piece of solid food, gels only. When I would start questioning myself, I would turn off my iPod for a minute and say a prayer, a "Hail Mary" to be exact, I would have to guess I said anywhere from 40 to 50 prayers during the race. My Vasque Blurs were outstanding as usual, not one single blister after a 100miles, what a great shoe, best out there in my opinion!!! Now for my pacer/crew Kyle Amos, he is the most unselfish, help anyone on the course, stand up guy I have ever met and continues to teach me about this whole ultra running thing every time we talk. Being in the Marines I met a ton of great men I trusted my life with on a daily basis, Kyle ranks right up there with them, with no questions asked!!! Thank you Kyle, you are truly a great friend. Sorry for rambling so long, hopefully this gave you a bit of insight to my race.

Semper Fi,

Tony

2009 Heartland 100: It Really Blows in Kansas

Dale Perry, heading into the 50-mile turnaround.

Another year at Heartland, my fourth visit, brought with it not so pleasant conditions as in the past. But having lived there during my formative years I know what to expect from Kansas weather: anything. The weather forecast looked gloomy at first, with some improvements as each forecast model package came in as the week leading up to the race drew close.

First, it looked to be windy, cold, and rainy. Then it looked like it would be windy and cool, mostly sunny with the weather coming in during the night. It turned out to be a mixed blessing: no precip, but it was windy and very cool. The afternoon highs were in the low-40's, but with the wind blowing from the north and west, it seemed to be in the low-30's. At the pre-race briefing, the RD Randy Albrecht asked me for what seems to be my role for Heartland: the official weather forecast for the weekend. Friday was very pleasant, little wind, sunny skies, and fairly warm. I told everyone to "remember the weather for today, 'cause that will be the only thing keeping you alive tomorrow." Heartland was going to be my 25th 100 mile finish, and it looked like number 25 wasn't going to be so easy.

I brought more cold weather running gear than usual, but also, just in case, some warm weather gear. Never used the latter. At the start, I decided to wear long running pants and keep them on all throughout the race. I also had 4 layers on my upper body at the start, my face buff, gloves, and a thin beanie for the head topped off with a baseball-style running hat. I never took off the gloves. I added a wool hat at 50 miles and left the baseball hat. I added more layers later at night as it got colder, ending the race with 6 layers on. At least I was comfortable.

The course is a 50-mile out and back on back-country farm roads in the Flint Hills Region of Kansas, also called the Tallgrass Prairie National Preserve. It is not uncommon to see livestock near the course, or on the course, at any time. Prairie chickens also rule the area. Cassoday isn't called the Prairie Chicken Capital of the World for nothing. During the day they are rare to see, but at night they incessantly fly up in front of you (since they like to roost on the ground) and ahead like the stupid fowl they are only to be startled again a few seconds later as you make your way along the road. This process can continue for quite some time. In earlier years they scared the shit out of me at night making lots of noise. This year, my mp3 player a'blazing, it wasn't as annoying.

At the start of the race, the weather was remarkably pleasant: calm winds, starry skies, a bit crisp (39 degrees). Soon, we were herded together like cattle for the start, and with the word "GO!" we were off into the darkness. The 50 milers started a few 100 yards ahead of us, but soon we all started merging together. I wanted to keep the pace reasonable and with little effort, as I knew the later part of the race is where it can get really gnarly, particularly if one goes out too hard at the start. The weather was also nice, so why spoil it? It took me about 1:29 to get to the first manned aid station, Battle Creek, at mile 8.2. As the weather was particularly pleasant, I knew it had to change. Coming into the aid station, the winds had picked up considerably, and the once clear skies were now filled with low clouds streaming in from the north. Yep, the good weather was over guys. Time to suck it up.

I spent little time at Battle Creek, and headed on out to the next aid station Lapland at mile 16.8. This part of the course is a serious set of ups and downs. It seems easier this way than coming back. Of course the crosswind didn't make for an easy go of it either. Once I got to the unmanned aid station at 13 miles, it is a fairly easy downhill to Lapland. I rolled into Lapland in 3:11, with a leg time of 1:42. So far, I was 2 minutes ahead of my projected splits. It wouldn’t last.

Again, I spent minimal time here refilling bottles and grabbing a PB&J sandwich. From here to Teterville, the next aid station at 25 miles consists of some rolling hills but with a lot of meandering through the tall grass prairie, one of my favorite sections. Making the final turn towards Teterville took us right into the wind. It was tough to get any running in, but we all managed somehow.

By now the 50 milers were returning and it looked like the tailwind behind them was making them happy. Got into Teterville in 4:49, a bit off my projected splits but not by much. The headwinds were starting to take a toll. So I sat down on the back of a pickup truck’s tailgate and rummaged through my drop bag for food and whatever suited my fancy. One of the aid station workers recognized me for the weather forecast at the pre-race briefing, and thanked me for the wind. I said "Happy to satisfy." I was only here a few minutes and I decided to head on out for my least favorite section, here to Ridgeline Aid Station 11.5 miles distant. Best get it over with, I thought.

Made my way down the road for a mile, and then turned right up a rutty, dried up, formerly muddy unimproved road. It was here that Dan Brendan caught up with me, and we both made the most of the 2 mile climb up to the rolling roads that will take us to Texaco Hill Aid Station (mile 31) all the way to Ridgeline.

It was great running with Dan, at least to Texaco Hill. We both were taking it easy with the headwinds, and were mystified as other runners were running the hills AND bracing the headwinds. Whatever trips their triggers I thought. Dan and I made for conversation, which was great as it really passed the time quickly to Texaco Hill.

Got to Texaco Hill in 6:18, about 24 minutes slower than predicted. The winds were taking a toll. Stacy Sheridan was here and greeted all the runners coming in and leaving. I ate a few PB&J sandwiches and sucked down some cokes and refilled my bottles before heading out. Dan spent little time here and was already gone.

As I was leaving, I saw Dan just ahead. I kept Dan in my sights all the way to Ridgeline, but never managed to catch up to him. At least this way, he was pulling me along when I needed the pulling. He would run, so I would run. He would walk, and so would I. This kept me focused on one of the worse sections (at least for me) and got me to Ridgeline in a little over an hour (7:26 running time).

Rolled into the aid station tent and chatted it up with Dave Dinkel, who offered me his patented "Prairie Power Pellets". I declined but promised to indulge myself on the way back. I had a drop bag here but didn’t need it this time around. I refilled my bottle, grabbed some food to eat and sucked down more coke. But then it hit me: I had to use the PortaPot ASAP. So I ran outta there and into the PP. It took me longer than I wanted, and some runners were cussing me up to hurry up. I finally was able to get out of there and apologized to the waiting runner for making her wait. All in all, I spent about 10 minutes here.

The next section is one of my favs: a very rolling terrain and generally downhill for the next 6 miles to Matfield Green, my next port of call at mile 42.5. It is usually in this section that I meet cows in the road or alongside. This year, there were none, in both directions. This section really seems to fly time wise, and I arrived at Matfield in 9:01. Part of this was due to running with Barb Elias and Nick Bassett, which provided some nice diverting conversation along the way. Right before the right turn onto the road that takes you to the aid station, the two front-running males were heading out. I pulled in, refilled my bottles and had a wonderful sloppy Joe sandwich. Sucked down a few cokes, and headed back out.

A lot of people complain about this next section, which takes you up a longish hill to what seems like a faraway transmission tower, but I find it a nice change and allows one to walk for a bit. The problem is that tower never seems to get any closer and it is staring you right in the face the whole way. By the time you get up to the tower, you have 2.5 miles of mostly flat to downhill to the 50 mile turnaround.

About a mile from the turnaround, the runners were greeted by Burma Shave-type signs; one I particularly liked said "This seemed like such a good idea a week ago." I finally rolled in the 50 mile turnaround aid station in 10:40, which I was pretty happy with time-wise. I decided to spend a bit of time here, as I needed to change shoes, hat, eat, drink and be otherwise merry. I picked up some batteries for my flashlight and mp3 player, sucked down an Ensure, restocked on electrolytes and was ready to go. Unfortunately, I spent about 20 minutes here. Time well spent.

On the way back, you get to see all your running friends, and most important of all, the cessation of wind in your face, now at my back. What a relief! I did a lot of jogging/running with walks mixed in for good measure.

Got back to Matfield Green in 12:33. Spent very little time here except to eat and refill. I wanted to get out of here and on the road to Ridgeline before it got dark. I finally had to pull my light out about halfway. I saw Barb and Nick just ahead and used their lights to pull me along. I got into Ridgeline in 14:18, and it was getting colder. I decided I needed to add a layer here and change into a warmer wool hat. After spending about 5 minutes digging around my drop bag (and grabbing my better Gerber light) I headed next door for some hot chow. Dave was there serving up his beans and weenies and it really tasted great! I drank a couple cups of coke and figured it was time to head out.

Unfortunately, we now had to face a significant crosswind all the way to Teterville. It was along this section to Texaco Hill that the prairie chickens were having a little fun with me. All part of the "Heartland Experience ". It seemed like a slow slog to Texaco Hill, and I ended up walking more than jogging. It took me 1:47 to get to Texaco, or 15:55 for 69 miles. I spent some time here trying to warm up and eat more. After spending about 10 minutes here it was time to leave. I didn't want to spend lots of time at the aid stations and taking some time here was not in my plan. The good thing about leaving here is that is mostly downhill and seems to go rather quickly. I managed to get into Teterville (mile 75) in 17:54.

I did plan on spending some time here to regroup and warm up. Digging around in my drop bag I replenished my electrolytes and sucked down a couple of caffeine pills as I was starting to get a bit drowsy. I left here happy knowing the crosswinds were over and the wind at my back.

This year the segment between Teterville and Lapland went relatively quick than recent years. However, I was pretty dead when I rolled into Lapland in 20:49. Unfortunately I spent about 30 minutes here trying to wake up and get warm. Gary Henry and his pacer arrived, tried to talk with me but I was rather non-responsive. They left. It wasn't long after that I decided to just get it done.

My next goal was to get to the Battle Creek Aid Station before sunrise. Last year I was hit with sunrise a few miles before Battle Creek and the hills spreading out before me made me want to cry. What I can’t see won’t hurt me, so I wanted to get there in the dark. Thankfully, I was able to do just that by mostly walking. I got there just after 6:08 in the morning (24:07 race time). I spent very little time here and left trying to make the most of the pre-sunrise darkness. By the time the sun was rising, I was over the hilly part.

I also felt rejuvenated (amazing how the sun can do that) and started jogging, then running. I had some good tunes on the player and it really got me moving. I saw a couple of runners ahead and I made it my goal to try to catch them. Not long after, I rolled into the Mirage Aid Station run by Trail Nerd Ben Holmes with his wonderful homebrew. I immediately asked for a brew, and chitchatted with Ben about some new trail shoes he would recommend. I traditionally have used Montrail Hardrocks, but have grown disappointed over the last few years with the changes they have made making them pretty much unusable for me. He offered a few suggestions as alternatives which I will look into, as the Hardrocks I currently have will soon be worn out and better left dead. The beer was very tasty (an IPA I believe) and I left somewhat perkier and rejuvenated than when I arrived. Isn't that what aid stations should do?

I now only had 5 miles to go. But a long 5 miles, as you can see the water tower of Cassoday in the distance that seems so close, but is yet so far. I was still feeling good and running more than I was walking. I soon caught up with the runners ahead of me and it turned out it was Gary and his pacer who left me for dead at Lapland many hours ago.

Gary was walking. I offered him encouraging words and made my way towards the finish line several miles away. Soon, I hit the pavement and made a right turn, with the finish line just 3⁄4 mile ahead. I rolled into the finish line, cowbells a blazing, with a total time of 27:00:48! I had hoped for 26-27 hours, so I was very happy.

# # #

This was my 4th trip to Frozen Head State Park and my 3rd attempt running the Barkley Marathons. This year I left Monday evening and arrived Tuesday evening.

I slept in my car and went for a hike of a few of the little hills on Wednesday with Chip Tuthill from Colorado, a runner from Italy and two of his friends and Rich Limacher from Illinois. We took 2 cars, leaving mine at the Armes Gap turnoff of Highway 116 and Chip's wife drove some and then returned to camp. First we walked up the gravel jeep road to the top of Testicle Spectacle and hiked down the backside to the Neo-Buttslide. We then followed the bench around the mountain west to Raw Dog Falls. The Italians had translated last year's instructions into Italian and tried to find this years book at the Falls to no avail. The Italians then crossed the stream and would not follow the rest of us down the dirt road towards the Pig's Head climb. We did not see them again till back at camp.

At the top of Pig's Head we took the old mining road down to the bottom of Rat Jaw. A couple prison guards were supervising a group of 13 prisoners replacing broken electrical insulators on the powerlines going up Rat Jaw. I hope they shut off the power first! Rich, Chip and I slowly worked our way up Rat Jaw. The saw briers and blackberry vines were cut low and had not started this years growth yet, so other than the steepness and length of the climb, Rat Jaw was not too bad this year. The gate to the tower at the top of Rat Jaw was open, so Chip and I climbed to the top for a 360� view and pictures of the surrounding mountains as this was the high point of the park. After our descent, we took the easy Spice Wood trail back to the main trailheads and up the paved road to camp. All total about 8 miles.

It rained fairly hard that night. On Thursday, Chip rested while Rich and I hiked up Bird Mountain and the improved portion of the North Boundary Trail. We then took the jeep road back to camp. All total about 10 miles.

I rested on Friday, checked out this year's instructions and map course outline. BBQ chicken was ready about 6:00 PM along with various other food items that the 35 runners and other friends and family members shared. I had made some pasta, opened a gallon of peaches and cooked some vegetables. I had the vegetables in the new 2 liter pan that came with a small propane/isobutane fuel-blend burner I had just bought from REI. After I finished cooking the vegetables, I had put the plastic cover over the heat transfer fins on the bottom of the pan to protect the fins from any mechanical damage. I had the pan on the picnic table and after awhile the remaining vegetables got cold and some idiot placed my pan atop the hot grill over a wood fire to reheat the vegetables, instantly melting the plastic bottom. And these guys plan to run the Barkley?!

One of Abigail Meadows 5 kids had a birthday Friday and Abi's mother had made a frosted chocolate layer birthday cake, a large cookie sandwich and a cheeseball covered in pecans that was shared with the group. I brought some ice cream and chocolate syrup. Pretty good last supper.

One of the highlights of the Barkley is the uncertainty of the start time. This year Laz decided to have a late start, ensuring most loop 1 finishers would be finishing in the dark. This was OK with me, as it gave me more time for my breakfast to settle and time for another reading of the course instructions. At 9:53 a long loud blow on a counch shell meant the lighting of the cigarette signalling the start of the race would be promptly at 10:53 AM.

With the improvements (removal of downed trees and tree swatches for trail markers) along 2/3 of the North Boundary Trail, I was well ahead of my previous time and keeping up with a group of reasonably fast runners. Then I tripped, bruising my upper arm. I was OK and five minutes later I noticed I had lost one of my two water bottles. It took me 10 minutes walking back uphill to the bottle (where I had fallen). At that point I was alone. I proceeded OK back down and past SOB ditch and through the coal ponds. Then a spread of streams through a rock garden at the base of a hill left me confused as to where to go, there being no obvious path in any direction. About 10 minutes later though Leonard Martin and a couple other runners arrived. Leonard has been over this course maybe 16 times and he knew where to go very well. I stayed with him the rest of loop 1. There were a few moments of uncertainty on his part, but only regarding the absolute best line to take on some of the bushwacking sections, nothing serious.

Darkness fell on us as we started up Big Hell. Leonard was not fully satisfied with the path we took down the Zip Line leading to Big Hell and vowed to do better next loop. A short ways up Big Hell Leonard and I caught up with another runner. As Leonard felt he could see better in the dim light of night on Big Hell without using any artificial light, I kept my bright handheld off until we reached the last book at the top. We found a couple more runners at that book and met another coming off of Chimney top on the last 3.5 miles of candyass trail back to camp.

Leonard and I came in together at 11 hours 32 minutes. The cutoff for the men's race (5 loops - yeah right!) was to be back on the course by 12 hours and for the 3-loop fun run the cutoff to be back on the course was 13 hours 20 minutes. After being well over the fun run cutoff each of my previous 2 Barkley attempts there was no way I was not going to start loop 2 this year. Leonard said he would be ready to go in 20 minutes. I hurried to refill my maltodextrin bottle and my empty water bottles. I consumed about 2500 calories of maltodextrin during the first loop and burned (according to my polar heart rate monitor) about 5000 calories. Other than a little tenderness in my feet I felt pretty good.

Twenty Two minutes after finishing loop 1 I started up loop 2 alone, as Leonard was not back yet and I did not want to waste any more time. I expected he would soon catch up with me but I could not see his light anytime while climbing Bird Mountain. I found the first book OK by Phillips Creek at the bottom of Bird Mountain and while concerned I had gone past and missed the second book, I did find it OK tied to the tree branche of a downed tree in the middle of real trail. I had dragged myself though a thicket of sawbriers and blackberry bushes on the way to book 2 that seemed much worse than I remember on loop 1. I was starting to wish I had waited for Leonard. Shortly after finding book 2, I saw roughed up leaves going two directions. I spent about 15 minutes trying to figure out where the path went, when Leonard arrived. He confidently took the correct path and we again stayed together until partway down Zipline I thought I saw a slightly better path and we started to separate.

Bad decision on my part. A ways later and I no longer saw him. As I continued to work my way down the steep briar infested, rocky, downed-tree shrewn, stream-laden hillside, I started to convince myself I had gone too far and missed the major stream confluence marking the crossing point for book 10 and the climb up Big Hell. I had again lost my bottle bottle and somehow managed to find it again. I went back and forth some and rechecked instructions and map, but not feeling any more certain about where to go. Finally I checked my altimeter reading against the map and concluded I needed to continue down. A ways later I found the crossing point and the next to last book.

I knew at that point I would be over the time limit to consider starting a 3rd loop and the soles of my feet were really sore now. So I slowly ascended Big Hell, unable to miss all the saw briars. I could see where people had gone to false tops (large rocks they hoped held the book), only to realize the mountain continued up a lot more after that point. Once at the top, this was the first time I had to figure out how to manuever around the capstones at the top to find the candyass trail back to camp. I had always before reached this point with a course-knowing runner at night. So again I spent a lot of time studying directions and map and finally convincing myself I did need to climb over a few nasty downed trees near a second set of capstones and I then found the good trail back down.

Even with that good, smooth narrow trail and its 18 long switchbacks or so my feet ached with every step. I did run down albeit a slow jog. Then as the instructions directed I followed the Flat Fork Walking Trail along the Flat Fork River a ways till it crossed the paved park road again and then I took the road back into camp and up to the yellow gage as Laz came with his watch and bugle to officially play taps for my 2009 Barkley closing ceremony as I stood at attention.

So this year I finished 2 loops in 29 hours 50 minutes. My first time beyond 1 loop. Leonard finished his 2nd loop very well and came in a few minutes under the 26 hour 40 minute cutoff, for an official loop 2 completion. He declined to start loop 3. So if you can keep from getting lost, be well trained, not go out too fast to start, dress appropriately (not too much or too little), not carry more supplies than you need (extra weight) and have appropriate footware (no blisters and minimize internal foot bruising) a 3 loop fun run should be quite doable.

But each year Laz modifies the course and start time a little, the weather is very unpredictable and book placement for half the books will be different, so the Barkley is certain to challenge the limits of every runner, which is probably why I like it so much. Ed Furtaw (Frozen Ed) is in the process of writing a book on the history of the Barkley. This year's race with mark the end of his book. He had several in-process manuscripts for runners to edit.

This year Andrew Thompson finished all five loops, becoming only the 8th person in 23 years to do so. First time finisher, Mark Williams returned this year and quit after 1.5 loops. So far no one who has finished 5 loops has done so twice. Once you complete the Barkley it seems the motivation to put yourself though that much pain again is lacking, and that little voice inside says "mommie, I want to quit..."

27 out of 35 starters officially finished the first loop this year. None of the 4 women to start finished the first loop. 11 officially finished the second loop, while John DeWalt (age 71) and I both came in after the cutoff on loop 2. 6 started and 3 officially finished the fun run and as mentioned Andrew Thompson finished loops 4 and 5. The weather was great, slight breeze 35-60�F with mostly clear sky Saturday, Saturday night and Sunday. Then on Monday the weather got poor - rain, sleet and snow on loop 5 for Andrew. The race fought back, but Andrew persevered. See Matt Mahoney's website http://www.mattmahoney.net/barkley/ for pictures and further race details for this year and several previous editions of the Barkley.

I watched Andrew come in off of his 4th loop as he strongly ran down the paved road and touched the yellow gate. I was showering when he started his 5th loop and I was heading home when he finished. There were not many left in camp for the start of his 5th loop. I suspect only a very few stayed for his finish, which is too bad, because it is a great accomplishment and demonstration of human endurance, tenacity, spirit and perseverance. Now that someone has finished the Barkley 2 years in a row, I can only imagine how Laz and Raw Dog plan to increase the difficulty for next year.

# # #

Kyle Amos' 2009 H.U.R.T. 100-mile Trail Race

HURT 100, or just Hurt

1/17/09

PHOTO: Tony Clark (L) and Kyle Amos show off their finishers' awards, after completing the grueling 2009 H.U.R.T 100-mile Trail Run, Jan. 17-18 near Honolulu. -- photo by Stacy Amos

Getting There from Kansas:

We were off, but after some crazy pre-travel drama. Stacey had to leave work early to pick up Ella from daycare because she BARFED!! Once she was home, she kept barfing, so last minute packing got a little stressful. My mom was able to come to our house and take care the puke factory while Stacey and I packed and kept our distance. Once the kids were asleep Stacey, Tony, Angel, and I ended up staying at my mom's non-quarantine house before our 6:30 am flight. Getting sick was not an option at this point.

Flying to Hawaii seemed like a "flying ultra" covering 4,128 miles, 4 airports, and about 11 hours in the air�with an hour delay in Denver because of no power to the plane. We knew once we got there, it would all be worth it. We would get to spend seven days in Hawaii and Tony and I would get to run the HURT 100�a race I have always wanted to do, but never thought would happen.

During this "flying ultra" I was able to reflect on why I am running the HURT 100 and did my training really prepare me for this run?

Why run HURT 100
• Why not?
• Test my limits.
• Stacey and I get a great vacation out of going to this race.
• I can because I have a supportive family allowing me to go off and do things like this. Stacey is very understanding of my training and races. Lots of grandparents who line up to watch Ryder and Ella.
• Running through the night is my favorite part of running 100's.
• Brian, a grade-school/high-school friend of Stacey's and one of my college roommates, is stationed in Hawaii for three years with the army. Staying in his penthouse apartment on the North Shore thirty yards from the ocean was really "rough."

Training for HURT 100
• Could not have gone any better.
• After Heartland 100 and the Vegas 34-miler in October, I felt like I had recovered well.
• Very consistent weekly mileage even through the holidays.
• Great weekend of 50 miles over Saturday and Sunday with Tony in mid- December.
• I did as much hill work as I could stand on the treadmill to get ready for hills in Hawaii�the longest hill I could find in Kansas is one-half mile long.
• Chasing Caleb during training runs will only make me stronger.

Now in Hawaii for two days before the race I am ready to rest, relax, sit on the beach, and eat great food on the North Shore. I could not have asked for a better place to finish tapering for this 100-mile run. I'm sure Stacey wishes this was the new standard for every ultra we go to.

The Fun Begins

Well, 6 a.m. on Saturday. It's time to start and see why this race is considered so hard. The plan was to stay with Tony for as long as it worked out for the both of us.

After we covered the first 7 and a half miles to the first aid station and figured out we were going to have to do this five more times�and still had 12 and a half miles to finish the first loop, we knew this was going to be a very long day�or two. The course was covered in roots, small and large rocks, big climbs, and crazy descents. I felt great after the first loop, but knew that the four more to come would only get harder.

Loop Two

• Hot, hot for a Kansas boy in January.
• Took in a lot of fluids
• Took in a lot more food at the aid stations to get ready for the long climbs.
• Not feeling the greatest at the end of the loop, but temperatures should cool off soon.
• Tony and I stopped to take a lot of pictures on this loop.

Loop Three

• Cooling off and feeling better
• The climbs are still feeling good.
• The long descents are starting to hurt a little.
• The views from the trails at night of downtown Honolulu with all the lights and ocean in the background were amazing.

Loop Four

• Climbs are getting longer.
• The descents are getting really difficult.
• Still feeling good, though!
• I know I will finish, but don't know exactly how hard it will get.

Loop Five

• First climb and descent into this loop felt good, even after 80 miles.
• The last 12 and a half miles took FOR-EV-ER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
• I could not eat enough to get energy.
• Red Bull was not giving me any wings.
• The plan now was just to finish and get this race-run-walk-hobble over with.
• Lots of grunts and groans came from Tony and I over the last seven miles.

Final Thoughts on Finishing HURT 100, 2009

• By far this was the hardest race I have ever done.
• I was able to finish the race�with no thoughts of stopping early.
• Stacey and Angel did a wonderful job of crewing for Tony and me during the race and were even able to go to Waikiki Beach (with Brian�s supervision) during the race.
• Carrying a photo of Ryder, Ella, Stacey, and me helped because I looked at it many times during the race.
• Looking at the Trail Nerd email list after the race was a nice surprise. It was fun knowing that people back here were monitoring our suffering-progress all day-- and night.
• Tony and I did a nice job of pushing each other and keeping each other going all the way to the end.
• I don't think there are many people I could run 100 miles with like Tony. It's amazing how similar we run and we have now run two 100s and a 50 miler together.
• Not all 100s are created equally.

Thoughts on Training for HURT 100-AFTER COMPLETING THE RACE

• There is no way for two Kansas boys to truly train for this race in Kansas, but setting new limits to what my body and mind can handle was a lot of fun.
• Sometimes you just have to take what the trails give you and like it, well-maybe not that fifth loop.
• This was my first race since Arkansas 2003, my first 100, where finishing was the only goal and time and place did not matter. This would have been a miserable race if my focus was on time and place instead of getting myself across the finish line.

Final Thoughts on the Vacation to Hawaii

• Two and one half days in Hawaii after the race is a great way to recover.
• Acai bowls on the North Shore are an unbelievable recovery food. If you have never had one of these, it is well worth the 4,000 mile trip to have one, two, or six of them!
• Brian and Ali were great hosts-tour guides on the North Shore and made our stay even more memorable.
• The final two days on Waikiki Beach with Tony and Angel were fun and relaxing. Tony and Angel were great to travel and spend time with in Hawaii and in all the airports there and back.
• The flight back-for me-was almost as hard as the race, but was well worth it to see Ryder and Ella.
• We will go back to Hawaii with the kids, but the HURT 100???????????

--Kyle Amos, Jan. 27, 2009

# # #

Alan Barnes' 2008 Javelina Jundred 100-mile Trail Race

PHOTO: Alan Barnes, Weatherby Lake, Mo., back on his feet, post-barf, at about the 35-mile mark.

I had no business doing this race.

It was my first try at 100 miles, I was undertrained, coming off an injury, had no strategy, crew or pacers. Not only that, but I�m a lousy trail runner. Just what the hell did I think I was doing?

The 100 had intrigued me for some time. I�d run lots of marathons, a few 50k�s and three 50 mile races, but the prospect of moving up to double my longest event was daunting. Worse, I�d suffered a stress fracture in April, 2008 and spent a long 13 weeks cross training as my hard earned fitness dissipated. Nevertheless, I simply felt like it was time to give it a shot and entered the Javelina Jundred held on November 15-16, 2008.

With such a short window between starting running again and the event itself, I needed to train as efficiently as possible. Fortunately, the race organizers offered an unsupported but organized training run a month before the event, beginning at 7 p.m., going to 7 a.m. if the runner desires. I used this as my last long run, completing three laps (46 miles, finishing at 5 a.m.) and testing both my lighting system and my ability to run all night. I highly recommend all night running, preferably on the race course, to anyone preparing for such an event. Although 46 miles was only four miles short of my longest run ever, it left me with the familiar nagging question: how does one bridge the gap to 100 miles? Only one way to find out. . .

The Javelina Jundred is held in the McDowell Mountain Regional Park north of Phoenix, Arizona. The race consists of six laps of 15.4 miles on the Pemberton trail, followed by a final nine mile loop that accesses an adjacent trail. (Yes, that totals 101 miles). The event is popular for first-timers. It�s almost impossible to get lost, and the trails are not particularly technical, although rocky in parts. Further, runners go through �Jeadquarters� every lap so personal supplies are easily accessible. However, the course is not to be considered �easy,� as if that term could ever apply to a 100 mile event. Even in the fall, the desert sun can be relentless, and the 85-degree temperatures so comfortable by the pool are warm on the trail, which is completely devoid of shade. The fine sand in parts of the course can wreak havoc on a runner�s feet, as small particles create painful blisters. Additionally, it is very easy to drop, passing by your car each lap and with the race organizers even offering an �I wimped out� 100k buckle for those completing four laps. The race has historically had a relatively high DNF rate.

With that in mind, I made the trip to Phoenix late Thursday before the Saturday race. Most of Friday was spent accumulating last minute supplies and sorting through my gear making sure everything was in place. The issue of the heat never entered my mind until I was resting by the pool Friday afternoon. At that point it dawned on me that it could get warm on race day. While at the pre-race briefing, the sun abruptly dropped beneath the horizon and the air cooled noticeably, a precursor of the next night�s running.

I violated one of the cardinal rules of racing with my decisions on Friday: never try something in a race that you haven�t tried in training. In this case, I decided to have my feet taped, in deference to the sandy terrain, even though I�d never been troubled by blisters. Additionally, I tried a nutrition product recommended by Rob, one of my partners, and an Ironman veteran. Perpetuem, a powdered protein source, worked wonders for Rob in keeping him from �bonking� in the long event, and it seemed to make sense for me also. However, I�d never gotten around to trying it during training. As it turned out, one decision was good, the other very bad.

The race began promptly at 6 a.m., with the sun rising less than an hour later. The race alternates clockwise / counterclockwise directions on the loops, which varies the terrain and enables the runner to see the other participants. The first loop is notorious for luring runners into a too-fast pace, and the next two loops are run in the heat of the day. If one can save some �gas in the tank�, the nighttime hours are much cooler and pace can be maintained or picked up.

I almost didn�t make it to the late night hours. The strange concoction added to my race day nutrition left me feeling queasy as the second lap got started. Here it wasn�t even mid-morning and I felt bad already! At mile 25 I wobbled off the side of the trail and became violently ill. The good news was that I immediately felt much better, with the bad news that I was now well behind in nutrition and hydration as the day warmed up. I stuck with water and more standard, time-tested nutrition the next couple of laps.

It was late afternoon by the end of three laps. I wolfed down two slices of pepperoni pizza at Jeadquarters. As much as I like pizza and running, the two historically haven�t gone well together for me, and this was again to be the case. As I was getting ready to head out for another loop, I decided to replace my short sleeved lightweight shirt with a heavier, long sleeved top brought for the night hours. When I located my gear, I was mortified to find that some water had been spilled from a nearby cooler and all of my night gear was wet! Even my iPod, brought specifically for the late stages of the race, was wet and not functioning. I was very upset, but there was little I could do but head out for another lap. This one would take me into the uncharted territory beyond 50 miles. At the end of the fourth lap, I would have completed 62 miles, or 100k.

On this lap my second low point arrived. The pepperoni pizza, so tasty at the aid station, was causing significant stomach issues. I felt bad, and none of the food at the aid stations looked appealing, or even like it would stay down. It was starting to get cool and I was feeling sorry for myself about my wet clothes back at Jeadquarters. As the lap dragged on in the darkness, I began to ponder dropping. After all, 100k was farther than I had ever gone before. And I had told no one except my wife and Rob about even attempting this event. There was no crew waiting for me, no running buddies tracking my progress, so what difference did it make? I could get back and get a good night�s sleep.

As I eased into Jeadquarters after the fourth lap I was still unsure about continuing, and even delayed a few minutes. But I had been given the advice to remember, �it never always gets worse.� In other words, a rough patch can come and go, and it doesn�t mean the race will spiral into disaster. I also remembered �Bad Ben� Holmes, head of the Kansas City Trail Nerds, describing covering the last 20 miles of a 100 with the dry heaves. And I was going to quit with my minor discomfort? Finally, I recalled that one of the event giveaways was a set of Moeben sleeves. I grabbed mine out of my bag, covered my bare arms and headed off for lap number five, nibbling on a turkey sandwich.

Once I got past the 100k drop point, something changed: my mental attitude became one of determination, and I was focused on completing that lap and the race. It got cooler, lonelier and more surreal as the fifth and sixth laps wore on. Food began to look marginally better, with sandwiches and soup providing needed calories. My pace was primarily a power walk, with some running thrown in. I finished those laps in good shape and ready to head out for the seventh and (thankfully) shorter final lap. Ironically, the last lap started almost exactly 24 hours after the race had begun. I was getting prepared for a second sunrise and completing this event.

Strangely, the last lap was almost giddy. The sunlight returned, and I could see runners I hadn�t recognized in the dark for the past several hours. Everyone was in a good mood, and encouraging each other. I knew I was going to finish, picked up the pace (at least it seemed like it) and felt the best I had in hours over the final lap. It helped that the Tonto Tank Trail, which comprised part of the last lap, was smooth and downhill all the way. I finished feeling great in 26:23, good for 43rd out of 72 finishers and about 145 starters. A very pedestrian time, but a 100 mile finish and a buckle nonetheless.

There was a tremendous psychological high with finishing my first 100. There were also some physical woes, especially for someone as undertrained as I was going into the race. Essentially, everything below my waist hurt, including muscles and tendons I didn�t know existed. I called my wife on the 45 minute drive back to the hotel, and told her if I ever talked about entering another of these, she should use a large stick to convince me otherwise. Within a day, of course, the idea of a second 100 sounded downright plausible. After all, wouldn�t it be cool to finish sub-24?

--Alan Barnes

Darin Schneidewind's Rock Creek 50K Trail Race

My first ultra experience

PHOTO: Darin Schneidewind, Topeka, smiles for the camera after placing 3rd in his first ultra.

It was a beautiful day for an October morning run.

The weather was perfect, not too cool and not too hot. This was to be my first ultra, and the last race of the series.

When I decided to run the long course series I had no idea how I was going to make the 31 miles of a 50K. Being a relatively new runner and having only been running for about 2 years and having never run that far I had no idea what to expect.

I started running to lose some weight and get in shape. Running became addictive and I went from running 5K to 10K to 10-mile trail runs to half-marathons. Nothing ever seemed enough and I began training to run my first marathon and the 50K ultra.

As we gathered at the start a few hundred yards up the road I was a little nervous. I was asking myself had I trained enough, and did I have what it takes to run a 50K. As we listened to Willie give the last instructions to runners he said the 50Kers follow the pink ribbons, and when you complete the first loop you get to do it again.

It was finally time for the race to start. I told myself to hold back and not go out to fast; it was a long race and a nice, easy pace would pay off in the end.

As we took off down the road going out easy went out the window. I ran in a pack of 4 or 5 runners for the first 5 miles to the first aid station. I didn't linger at the first aid station -- just long enough to drink a glass of water.

The 5-runner group had narrowed to 3. We were a little strung out now and I was bringing up the rear. I was wearing 2 long sleeved tops and was now wishing I had only worn one.

As I ran down the trail my water bottle decided to jump out of its pouch and roll down the hill. I had to turn around and retrieve my water bottle, and was a little farther behind the other two now.

When I reached the next aid station there was quite a crowd as the half-marathoners were back on the same trail with us. I got behind a group of half-marathoners and it took me a mile or two to get around all of them.

I could no longer see the other two in front of me, and was running all alone on the trail now. I ran for a while by myself and sucked down a GU and got GU all over trying to shove the wrapper in my pouch. I was still feeling good at this point and thought I was running well.

I heard a "wahoo!" in the distance. It was the 10.4 mile aid station. The two gals manning the aid station said "you're looking good! What can we get you?"

I took some Heed and a banana. They said I was in 7th place and to keep it up, as I took off again.

I soon caught a glimpse of a couple of runners in front of me so I ran a little faster to catch them. I would get close to them then fall back. Still feeling good, I ran a little harder and was back to the aid station again. We only had to run a couple-of-miles loop and come back to the same aid station.

The two other runners I had been trying to catch were there both wearing GPRC shirts. I took a little water and followed them onto the trail. I ran behind them for a while and had no aches or pains except for a toe I had stubbed earlier. I got around the two guys, and was running by myself again.

Suddenly I started to catch groups of half-marathoners. As I moved by them I thought they're about done and I have to run another loop yet. I realized then I was probably running too fast.

I came upon another group of 7 or 8 and the other 50K runners I was following earlier were in that group also. My competitive side got the best of me here and I flew around them running faster yet. I was still running good and passed a few more half-marathoners on my way to finish the first lap.

When I got to the start-finish I heard someone yell 2:10 and I thought "oh shit, I ran way to fast; I'm going to die in the second lap."

I shed both my long-sleeved shirts for a dry short-sleeved shirt. Man, that dry shirt felt good. I ate a banana and a handful of peanut M&Ms, switched out my water bottle and took off for the second lap. I slowed my pace, knowing I could not keep running at the pace I had been in the first lap.

It seemed like I ran forever, no one in front of or behind me. The hills were getting harder to run, but I just wanted to keep moving, not knowing where the other runners were behind me.

I still felt ok but was starting to feel the pain of running the first lap too fast.

Finally I reached the aid station at 20.2 miles. The guy at the aid station told me I was in 3rd place, and only a couple minutes behind 2nd -- "a nice steady pace and you can catch him," he said.

I had a glass of Mt. Dew and a gel pack that I washed down with a glass of water. I grabbed a chunk of bananna and took off down the trail.

By this time I was having a little trouble running up the hills, and was starting to cramp in one calf. I had been alone the whole second lap and it seemed like I was hardly moving at times. The hills were getting harder and it felt like I was running in concrete shoes.

As I ran all alone on the trail I tried to keep my mind off the pain setting in. I was looking for the next aid station thinking if I got something to eat I would catch my second wind.

As I ran along the side of the service road I knew I was getting close to the aid station. I picked up the pace a bit, and then there it was again -- "wahoo!"

It was the aid station at 24.3 miles. This was my favorite aid station as the 2 gals fed me joked with and encouraged me. I ate more at this stop than I had the whole race, as they just kept feeding me and telling me how awesome I was doing.

They filled my water bottle and told me that 2nd was only a couple minutes in front of me. "You can catch him, he�s hurting," one of them told me.

At this point I was hurting too and was more worried about the guy behind me catching me than me catching the guy in front of me.

Good and fed I tried to pick up the pace, but it seemed like I was running even slower. However, there were no major hills in this one-and-a-half-mile stretch back to the same aid station, so I just kept moving. I got back and they tried to feed me again, but I didn't think I could stomach any more.

I told them I was hurting and they gave me some more words of encouragement and advice to just put it out of my mind and I would make it to the end.

The trail to the next and last aid station was slow and seemed like it was full of hills. I would run as far up the hill as I could now, until my calves started to cramp and then walk the rest of the way. I was getting sore and my legs were like wet noodles. I was feeling the effects of running too fast to start, but there was nothing I could do about it now.

Not knowing where the other runners were or how far behind me they were, I just tried to keep moving no matter how slow.

I made it to the last aid station at 28.4 miles. I didn't linger long here as I was afraid if I stopped I might never get started again. This was already farther than I had ever run before, and on a trail to boot. It made the marathon I ran seem like a walk in the park.

Two-point-six miles to go; you don't even put your shoes on for 2.6 miles I told myself. I was now talking to myself and encouraging myself to keep going, remembering how good it felt to finish my first marathon -- and thinking how good it would feel to finish this in third place and how unbelievable.

At this point I could hear the music every now and then and thought, "man I�m getting close."

I ran forever, it seemed, hearing the music, and then not. I couldn't wait to hit that first patch of gravel as I knew when I did I only had a quarter mile or so to go.

When I finally got there I realized I was going to finish. As I got closer I ran faster and then there it was -- the cow bell!

And people cheering for me as I crossed the finish line. It felt great to cross the finish line, and what an accomplishment it was for me to finish, let alone in 3rd place, considering 2 years ago I couldn't have run across the street.

I was given a glass of chocolate milk and thought "this must be what it feels like to drink milk in the winner�s circle of the Indianapolis 500."

People were coming over and shaking my hand and congratulating me. It was a great feeling and I felt like a rock star. Willie soon found me and congratulated me on an awesome first ultra.

I was on cloud nine but in a little pain now that I had stopped running. But it was a good pain. For the next hour people came over to talk to me and get to know me. It was great. I had already met a lot of awesome people in this series and was getting to know more.

I thought I found a home in ultra-running as the people I've met were a lot like me.

After completing my first ultra and meeting other runners, I found that these are the races for me. Ultra runners are different from other runners and the help and advice I have gotten from them has helped me a lot.

This was one of the biggest accomplishments of my life, and I hope to have a lot more. Just to finish an ultra is worth all the training and adversity you have to go through to get to the finish.

I can't wait to run my next one and to run even farther and take what I have learned on to my next challenge.

Thanks to all of you who have helped me along the way and since. I would also like to thank Willie Lambert and Great Plains Running Company for putting on a first-class event and always taking time to help out a newbie runner.

It was an awesome experience and one I will not soon forget.

--Darin Schneidewind

Mark Stovall's 2008 Heartland 100

Spirit of the Prairie October 11, 2008

Sometime in the late spring I thought. . . I'm not getting any younger and I'm not able (willing?) to train any harder - so might as well sign up for a 100 mile run and see how I do. The Heartland 100 takes place just down the road in Cassoday KS, and as far as 100 mile runs go, it is considered an "easy" 100 miler. I signed up and started the planning. . . I increased my training a bit, added a few new things, but still kept my weekly mileage fairly low compared to most runners. Here are some notes from my adventure.

TRAINING

Typical week is 30-50 miles. Once per week I would run 2-4 miles barefoot on the treadmill or outside using Vibram KSOs to strengthen my feet and ankles. Once per week I'd do speed work. Once per week I would do hill repeats. On weekends I'd try to run medium distances back to back. Once per month I would do one run in the 40-ish mile range. That's it. All other miles were just me tooting around logging junk miles. I did twice weekly core resistance workouts, but no other cross training. I do all of my training alone, typically very early or very late.

THE PLAN

Start out slow. Pick it up in the afternoon and get in as many miles as I could before dark. Then change into warmer clothes and coast in to the finish. I looked at the run as four 25 mile sections and placed drop bags at Teterville (25 mile and 75 mile) and at Lone Tree (50 mile turnaround). I addition, I carried a few things in my pack, just in case I couldn't wait for a drop bag location. Going at a conservative pace, I was pretty confident I could finish under 24 hours. It sure sounded good on paper!

PRE-RACE

I drove down to Cassoday Friday afternoon and felt obliged to take a picture of the famous Prairie Chicken sign. Despite being the world capital, I didn't see any prairie chickens, but then again...the chicken noodle soup tasted very fresh???

I had several friends willing to come out and help, but I talked them out of the act. Something inside me wanted to do this alone. No doubt I would have had a better time with some help, but I'm not used to accepting help - so I just go with what I know.

RACE DAY

6am. Dark and cold - I was standing around shivering and was about to ask a volunteer if it was always this cool in the morning when they announced this year was the warmest starting temperature on record.  Maybe it was just nerves? The good thing about driving to the race is my car serves as my mobile aid station. I wasn't planning on wearing a long sleeve shirt, but was glad to pull several out of my trunk. I knew the sun would be up in less than an hour, so I carried the smallest light I had. I'd rather start without a light, but I didn't want to twist an ankle early and ruin the run.

50 minutes in, and the sun was rising over the Flint Hills....I knew I was in for an incredible day. I had to force myself to slow down and found myself running hills I should have walked...but I was feeling great so...

They have Aid Stations every 4-5 miles and I was keeping up on the fluids and electrolytes. They had predicted a high of 80, with gusty winds so it would be easy to get dehydrated.

I made it to my first drop bag at mile 25 in good shape. Changed shirts and set out again. I wanted to just keep plugging away during the daylight. The only thing that slowed me down was the view. The prairie stretched out as far as you could see and the emptiness was strangely beautiful. I know I could have saved some time if I would have stopped taking pictures, but c'mon....this was something to be enjoyed!

Some of the most striking scenery was along the way to the Ridge Line aid station, but my camera stopped working. It seems too much moisture had caused the lens to cloud over. Now it really was time to turn up the music and chew up some mileage.

In the heat of the day, I ended up getting a little behind on hydration, and had to force more water and double up on S!Caps.  No biggie.

Reached the 50 mile turn around in just over 10 hours and tore into my drop bag. I changed shoes, socks, shirt, shorts - and switched out my backpack for the two bottle waist pack. Had some awesome chicken noodle soup, coke and snickers...then headed out to rack up some more miles before dark. I wasted WAAAY too much time at the turn around, and several runners that came in behind me, took off before I was ready but I really needed the break. It turns out, I got a good boost from the pit stop and I passed a couple of the runners that caught me at the aid station. I kept running as much as I could making some decent mileage.

I started to slow down as I hit the Ridge Line station at mile 63. This station was run by fellow Trail Nerd Gary Henry and is also the home of the famous [Dave Dinkel's] PRAIRIE POWER PELLETS! I had two cups of the magical beans and relaxed a little longer than I should have. I think Gary could tell I was having a hard time and was trying to keep my spirits up. As I headed back into the darkness he called out "Go get your buckle!" ...yeah - that's what I was here to do. Finish a 100 miler. Just keep movin'!

The five miles to the next aid station were some of the worst all night. Maybe I ate too much, or maybe I was just feeling sorry for myself. It was difficult to run into the strong headwind and I was chilled to the bone. I had to cover 10 more miles before I could reach my drop bag and some warmer clothes. While I struggled to keep moving, I had plenty of time to do the math. At my current pace, I would not finish under 24 hours and this reality was crushing me.

When I finally hit Teterville aid station, it took me a moment to realize I had reached my drop bag. Warm dry clothes! Ahhh - the finer things in life! Changed and had more soup and started back on my way. With only 25 miles left, I realized I might be able to turn things around, and started running as much as I could. It was hard to stay in a rhythm due to the rolling hills, but it wasn't any more painful than walking...so better to get it over with sooner, right? At times I would realize I had stopped running, but wasn't sure who told my legs they could stop!?!? Mutiny!!!

I'll spare you the details of running alone in the dark for hours and hours. . . Eventually, I made it to the Mirage station which meant I had about 4 miles to go. At this point my brain figured out I could just walk the last 4 miles and still finish under 24 hours. Before I knew it, the rest of me shut down and turned off the lights. I tried a few times to run, but I was too exhausted. I couldn't even get enough energy to jog the finish line. I walked it in to a 23:26 finish and was just glad it was finally over! I cleaned up a bit and since my drop bags were still on the course somewhere, I crashed in the back seat of my car. A little anticlimactic, but after a few hours sleep, I picked up my bags and my buckle and headed home. So -- for anyone wondering if they can finish a 100 miler on 40 miles per week of training - I'd have to say YES!! I could have done better, but I finished. Out of 67 starters on the 100 mile course, I finished 24th.

THE EVENT

I expected the gravel to be much worse than it actually was. Perhaps it varies from year to year depending on how these private roads are maintained? There were some rocky sections, but in general you could pick a line that was fine gravel, dirt or even grass without too much trouble.

The course was beautiful and well marked, but the Aid Stations...awesome! Each time I'd get to a station a mob of volunteers would spring to life like a NASCAR pit crew. They were well stocked, and the hot food at night was incredible. I've been in restaurants where the service wasn't this good!

As I stumbled in the dark trying to understand why I'm out there running, I couldn't help but wonder about these folks at the aid stations. They often put in more hours than the runners themselves. Sitting at a cold station in the dark, waiting on an intermittent stream of semi-conscious smelly runners to spend 90 seconds shuffling around a folding table of snacks. They would check my bib number and call me by name, see to my every need -- and I was off again leaving them to wait for the next runner to do it all again.

These folks allow the rest of us to see just how stupid we really are. THANKS!

WHAT WORKED

Redundant electronics - -3 MP3 players and two Garmin units - nice to have plenty of battery life.

Kinesio Tex tape - I started taping my feet on long runs. I only had two blisters and my usual problem spots had no problems at all! This and other tips came from the "Fixing Your Feet" book - lots of good info.

Clean shirts - I changed shirts every 25 miles. Probably overkill, but I get a strange boost changing into a clean dry shirt. Somehow, it feels like I just started running....at least for a while.

Gaiters - I didn't get a single rock or pebble in my shoes over 100 miles. NICE!

WHAT DIDN'T WORK

Nathan Race Vest - love the capacity, love the storage, rides fine....bladder is a pain to refill. I lost too much time taking it off, refilling, putting it back on. It didn't bother me on training runs, but it slowed me down too much going through the aid stations. I need to engineer some sort of Quick-Fill opening for it - ASAP.

Time goal on my first attempt. I should have just gone and enjoyed my time on the course.

End-of-Life Shoes - I started with some ol' reliable shoes that had a lot of miles on them. My thoughts were to go with a sure thing. Turns out that the only sure thing was the forefoot cushioning had broken down and I stepped on 12,587 sharp rocks in the first 50 miles. After a shoe change at mile 50, there was a drastic improvement. I should have started with newer shoes.

Digital Camera - my point-and-shoot camera was exposed to a little too much moisture and stopped working. If I continue to carry around a camera on long runs, I'll have to get a waterproof version.

--Mark Stovall

Allan Holtz' 2008 Leadville Trail 100

Photo: Fellow Minnesota runner John Taylor (L) ushers Allan Holtz through the crowd, shortly after Allan completed the 2008 Leadville Trail 100, Aug. 16-17. (Ed Dallman photo)

Moving 100 or more miles on foot in a single effort is never easy.

It requires one to balance pace, nutrition, hydration, electrolytes, thermal management, skin protection (feet blisters and body chafing) and effects of cumulative exhaustion (both physical and mental) against one's age, training history, both recent (last 4 months including recovery from other races and proper taper for current race) and long-term (last 4 years) with one's genetic potential.

Add in 15,000 feet of climbing up and down, some mud, some rocks, a few roots and the adventure is harder.

Provide a weather mix that includes a little warm sun in the afternoon, rain often,

starting in rain in the dark at 40F with some wind later on, several sessions of pea-sized hail, a bit of falling snow, and the event becomes a greater challenge both mentally and physically.

Finally add an elevation effect of running between 9,300 and 12,600 feet and a 30-hour time limit becomes very difficult for most runners to meet. Welcome to the Leadville Trail 100-Mile endurance run 2008 (LT100).

During his yearly pre-race inspirational talk Friday morning, Co-race director Ken Chlouber said "you are better than you think you are; you can do more than you think you can".

I say to finish any 100-mile effort, you have to really want to finish or you won't finish.

Fatigue at some point in a 100-mile foot race will give you every imaginable reason to quit. Having finished Leadville once already (last year) my main motivation to finish Leadville this year was to continue my quest to finish the Grand Slam of Ultrarunning, which involves finishing Vermont 100, Leadville Trail 100, Wasatch Front 100 and this year the Arkansas Traveller 100 mile runs � all in one year.

This year the Arkansas Traveller is a replacement race for the normally included Western States 100 mile run which was canceled this year due to wild fires.

I had already finished Vermont, so my goal was still intact. This year about 565 people registered to run the LT100. Many no shows resulted in about 450 runners toeing the cold-wet 4 a.m. Saturday start line in downtown Leadville by the Police Station - Court House on Harrison Street.

I was perhaps overly concerned about how cold it felt at the start. John Taylor and I had pitched our tents Thursday night about a mile uphill east of town off of 5th street by a trailhead gravel parking lot, close to an asphalt bike trail and near a portable toilet.

That first night when we arrived at Leadville, having flown into Denver on separate flights that day, it felt cold in full street clothes and jacket. My tent finally got warm enough, but Friday morning still felt cold, about 44�F at 7 a.m.

Although Saturday morning out of tent at 2:30 a.m. felt a bit warmer, I knew the weather forecast was not good so I chose to wear a pair of micro fiber pants under my nylon shorts and a micro fiber 
shirt under my pullover wind jacket and Lycra shirt.

I wore a Nathan mesh vest over the jacket that held my food supply (an 8-ounce bottle of 
self-mixed maltodextrin and 5% soy protein blend in water at about 860
calories per cup) and electrolytes.

To the vest I attached with velcro my two one-quart water bottle holders supported cross shoulder. I also
 wore a balaclava under my Adam's Extreme hat and polypropylene gloves. Not wanting to take away from night sleep-time prior to the early start of the
 race, I had showered at the Leadville Laundromat Friday evening and lubed
 and changed into my race clothes before climbing into my tent.

My sleep
 both Thursday and Friday nights, although comfortably stretched out in my
 tent, was very light. I awoke often as my breathing the thin air was
 labored. I remember dreaming at one point Thursday night that a bear's
 nose was just outside my tent pressing against my arm. Then it left only
 to return again a few minutes later and drag me and my tent along the
 ground awhile before leaving.

I was relieved upon getting out of my tent
 Friday morning to see my tent intact where I had set it up.

By 2 miles into the race I knew I had overdressed for the start, so I went
 to the side to remove the micro fiber pants and shirt, gloves and 
balaclava. Doing so required removing my hat, head lamp, shoes, gaiters, jacket, shorts, vest and water bottle holders and by the time I had
 reassembled myself with the pants and shirt tied securely around my waist, 15 minutes had passed and I was by far in last place.

That proved to be a
 bit of a challenge when I approached the first major course road
 intersection, still in the dark with 3 directional choices. Had I arrived
 earlier, someone would have been there directing the runners. Fortunately, a permanent road sign pointing towards Turquoise Lake was at that intersection, as the course ribbons for the correct direction were not 
within my flashlight beam.

I assumed that to be the correct direction,
 although realizing that was not necessarily correct, as at times the 
runners take a different route to an aid station than does vehicle
 traffic.

After running a quarter mile down the road I saw a course
 ribbon. Relief. Further on towards the first aid station (13.5 miles
 from the start), just before Turquoise Lake I made a mistake on which road
 to take. This time, probably someone's crew, stopped me and directed me to the correct road before I had gone more than 0.1 miles off-course. Whoever that was, I thank you greatly.

Shortly thereafter I caught up to the soon-to-be-last runner and I passed another 20 runners by the first aid station (May Queen), which I reached at 7a.m. with 15 minutes to spare on the absolute cutoff.

Later in the race I was glad I still had the microfiber pants and shirt
along.

I put the pants on at the outbound Twin Lakes aid station (39
miles into the race just before climbing Hope Pass - course high point at
12,600 feet, --1000 feet above tree line).

I was concerned that it would be cold at the high point in the race, as I had a few moments of coldness
 during the day Saturday while being dressed down when it rained. I had
 put my gloves on and off several times already.

Shortly out of Twin Lakes 
one crosses Lake Creek. It was flowing fast, mid-thigh deep and cold. My feet felt really cold for 5 minutes after the river crossing. At
 least this year the low flat section between the Twin Lakes aid station
 and the river was dry. Last year it was rather swampy.

Then the sun came
 out and it got the warmest of the day. I knew it would get colder later, so I kept with the long pants on, not wanting to waste any more time changing clothes again. I was out of the turn around at Winfield in 13
hours 15 minutes (50 mile point - 14 hour time limit), only 5 minutes slower than last year, even though I had spent an additional 25 minutes
 adjusting my clothes.

I was starting to feel tired and that was a little
 disconcerting. I remember at some point outbound passing "Barefoot Ted"
 running in his homemade light-weight neoprene huaraches.

He said he had
not trained for running much recently and that the mud was a challenge for
 his footwear. Later, after dark he caught me at an aid station. He was
 then wearing Vibram Five Fingers. He went on to finish an hour ahead of
 me.

Coming back, it got dark for me halfway down Hope Pass. Off and on rain
 and hail and cold greeted the runners the rest of the race. Back over
 Hope Pass and at the Twin Lakes aid station (mile 60.5) I was down from 45
minutes at Winfield to 27 minutes on the cutoff.

I took a few more
 minutes at Twin Lakes to put my micro fiber shirt on and when I left the
 next aid station (Half Moon mile 69.5) at 12:36 a.m., I only had 9 minutes
 left on the cutoff. The next section to the Fish Hatchery aid station
(mile 76.5) is all road (gravel and paved) and I was able to make up some
 time.

I had 26 minutes to spare when I left that aid station at 2:34 a.m.

The next section to May Queen (mile 86.5) involves climbing up and over
 Sugarloaf Mountain -- the 2nd highest point in the race and after one is
 getting fairly exhausted.

That climb up a somewhat rocky trail seems to
 take forever and then one must try to push the pace as much as possible on
 the downhill side on legs that are starting to feel less supportive.

I 
managed to reach May Queen at 6:07 a.m. with 23 minutes to spare.

The next
8+ miles were along Turquoise Lake and except for constant rolling
 terrain, were relatively flat and benign footing. As I exited the trail
 by the lake and reached the final 4 - 4.5 miles of gravel and paved road to
 the finish I had 2 hours until the 30 hour cutoff.

I felt confident I
 should be able to finish OK. Only I forgot how much uphill remained in
 those 4+ miles. They seemed to take forever to finish and I soon decided
 I needed to walk as fast as I could to assure an awardable finish.

My
 running at that point was only slightly faster than I could walk and I 
hoped I did not have to push that hard. About a couple miles into that
 last section I passed another runner and his pacer. They asked how far to 
go and whether they could walk and still finish.

They were walking
 somewhat slower than me and I said they should be fine, not remembering
 those last 2 miles were soon to be all climb. I hope they finished under
 the 30 hours.

I had been both monitoring and controlling my pace with my heart rate
 monitor. My plan was to keep my heart rate under 130 bpm at all times, and
 try to average 110-120 bpm throughout the race, and finish strong.

After 
taking 15 minutes to change clothes at the 2-mile point, I knew I needed
 to run a bit harder to make up time, so I ran the first 23.5 miles between
115 and 130 averaging 122 bpm. I deliberately slowed to an average of
113 bpm through mile 55 and then managed to hang on to average 105 bpm the
 last 45 miles as fatigue set in.

According to my heart rate monitor I
 burned 13,421 calories during the race. I consumed about 6,800 calories of
 my maltodextrin-soy blend and 45 S! Caps.

Every 15 minutes I sipped the 
home made syrup and drank some water to dilute the syrup. Every hour, the
 first 6 hours, then every half-hour until 22 hours, and then every hour
 until the end of the race I took an S! Cap. I only took water from the aid
 stations, except for refilling my maltodextrin bottle from my drop bags.

I
 am grateful to the many aid station attendants who helped me with my drop
 bags. That saved valuable minutes for me. My hands got really puffy by 6
hours, probably a little too much water combined with unacclimated altitude effects and hormonal response to prolonged physical stress.

I had a change of socks in one drop bag as well as various additional clothing items in my drop bags. I just used the clothes I started the
 race with.

I did change batteries in my lights at Fish Hatchery (mile
76.5). Even though I used a strong LED head lamp and a good LED hand-held 
light, I felt the extra brightness from fresh batteries for the final four
hours of darkness a worthwhile investment of time spent at the aid
 station.

Some of that darkness did involve rough rocky terrain.

I
 had no stomach distress during the LT100 this year. The combination of
 cool weather and easily digestible calories consumed at a steady rate of
230 calories per hour worked well for me in that regard.

One effect I noticed at Leadville this year is that I could not run (or
 walk) while drinking water. I needed to stop while I drank or I simply
 did not have enough oxygen to feel at all comfortable. Early in the race 
that was a time-wasting frustration. Later it was a welcome rest-break.

My resting heart rate at home just before leaving for Leadville was 53
bpm. At Leadville Friday night it was 76 bpm. Altitude for the unacclimated makes a difference.

At least I did not get a headache from the elevation. I did get some lung congestion.
A few times after dark
 Saturday night and into Sunday morning, I saw runner coming toward me. 
WhenI told them they were going the wrong way, they would say they were 
quitting and returning to the previous aid station.

Unfortunately, not
 much I could say to them after that. They had already made a tough
 decision that only they could make.

I was very exhausted and very happy to cross the finish line in 29 hours 39 minutes and 11 seconds, the 166th finisher out of 186 finishers, a 41%finish rate for those starting the race this year.

If I go back to Leadville next year, I already know my race number (166). They appear to
 assign you the number according to your finish position from the previous 
year. My number this year was 189. Based on this assignment of numbers,
 it appears that about 85 finishers from last year (36 percent) started the LT100 again this year, 62% of whom finished again this year.

I don't know how numbers were assigned the rest of the field.

That provides an incentive to bring runners back, to try to get a lower race number, as well as trying to finish ahead of your race number. It is also a way of knowing who at least did not either run or finish the LT100 last year, as you approach other runners during the race, and it lets you know who ran very well last year, if they have a low number.

Nice awards are given for 10- (huge buckle), 11- (heavy jacket) and 20- (enormous buckle) year finishes. This was the 26th annual LT100 and Bill Finkbeiner finished this race for his 25th time.

This year's winning time of 18:02:39 by Duncan Callahan, who finished 7th last year was more than a 2-hour PR at Leadville for Duncan and over 2 hours slower than the course record, set by Matt Carpenter in 2005 (15:42:59).

The LT100 has arrangements with the Leadville Hostel such that LT100 runners could shower for $3 at the Hostel after the race. That was a pleasure.

On the deck outside the Hostel I saw Hans Dieter-Weisshaar. He was elated that at age 68 this year he ran a PR at the LT100 and took first in his age group.

He said another runner in his age group has always beaten him at this race in prior years. It was fun seeing so many of my ultra running friends before, during and after the LT100 this year.

John and I planned to attend the pre-race dinner on Thursday evening. Our plans changed when I picked up the rental car at 2:45 PM that Chihping Fu had reserved and I realized when I went to get my GPS from my larger suitcase that I had the wrong suitcase.

Instant panic.

My 2 checked luggage bags had gone from MSP to Denver on the Northwest flight I was originally booked on. The last minute before boarding cutoff, I was notified I could accept a $300 travel voucher to take another flight due to overbooking of the current flight. So I flew into Denver on a United
 flight that left 30 minutes after the Northwest flight, leaving no time to
 change bags to the United flight.

When I arrived in Denver my 2 bags and a couple other totally different looking bags were setting aside by the
 Northwest baggage claim office. I still had a couple hours before John's
 flight was due to arrive and I did not think to confirm the larger High
 Sierra bag was mine.

It looked identical to mine and seemed the right
 weight. So I sat and read until time to get the car.

Fortunately a label in the suitcase had a name and phone number. John and I went back to the airport. John tried to call the number on the label and got an answering service.

Upon reaching the Northwest counter, they tried the number and got a hold of the person who had my bag.

A couple hours later, that couple arrived back at the airport for the bag exchange. John and I got to pitch our tents as darkness fell and we enjoyed a good pasta dinner at anItalian restaurant in downtown Leadville. We were both starved and had to wait until close to the 10 p.m. closing time to be seated and get our food.

They brought crackers with our salad and we finished the crackers while waiting for our pasta. We went back again Friday night, only we made sure to be there when they opened at 5p.m.

I need to say Thanks to Chihping Fu, who daily for awhile checked car rental prices and found a 3-day rate of $110. For nearly the same time span, the best I was able to find was $220. When Chihping decided at the last minute that he best not come to Leadville due to new job concerns, John and I were able to cancel our car reservation and assume his.

Then when I told the rental agency I would be going to Leadville they gave me a Caravan instead of the economy car that Chihping had reserved for the same 
price. Gas cost more, but John and I were more comfortable and we had room to spread out our gear.

Apparently with 2 people and gear there was concern a small car could not safely handle the higher elevation and climbs. I know that feeling well...I had trouble doing that also.

Twelve runners from Minnesota started Leadville this year. I was shocked when Ed Dallmann approached me right after I finished with the news I was the only Minnesotan to finish the LT100 run this year.

I certainly wasn't the fastest runner in the group from Minnesota. I had neither crew or pacer. I was probably the most experienced at completing and not completing 100 mile races of that group though.

I certainly know the feelings that covering 100 miles on foot feels like, from the excitement and exhilaration at the start to the pain and fatigue at the finish, and the full transition of emotions in between.

This year at LT100 I followed my own advice to �barring serious injury, continue until you are either timed out or you cross the finish line.� To me, the actual finish time is secondary.

Fortunately for me at the LT100 this year the finish line came
 first.

Next up for me is the Wasatch Front 100 mile run on September 6. I did not follow my advice there last year when I quit at 83 miles, still a
 couple hours under the cutoff, but moving too slow to finish, at least so I thought at the time.

Allan R Holtz
Bloomington, Minn.

Jakob Herrmann's 2008 Coyote 2 Moon 100-Mile Run

Wait, I was not supposed to finish this thing...

It was almost Saturday midnight, March 22, 2008, and the darkness was broken by only my flashlight and the full moon. I've been moving on my own for over 31 hours covering 83 miles and 44,000 feet elevation change so far. My map shows me that I should be on the 2nd last aid station soon and I look up trying to see any lights. While doing that I got scared to the bones because I'm looking at a big tree which has dozens of human faces staring at me. In an instant reflex I jump back and hold my flashlight against that tree, and with my eyes wide open I recognize that they're just leaves.

Honestly, I am about to freak out. It's dark, I'm alone and I'm seeing faces all over the place staring at me. It's making my tired, beat-up body tremble and every single hair stands up while goose-bumps attack my body over and over again. Soon I realize that I am heavily hallucinating and all I can do is to stare at the floor, ignore the product of my imagination-gone-wild and keep moving. I have read about these events in other runners' race reports and always thought that it would be an awesome adventure to experience it myself. Now I do and all I want is for it to stop because it's not as much fun as I thought it would be.

This all started when I was looking for a challenging 100 mile race for my Run4Ryan fundraiser; a race to support Ryan, who is a 2 year old boy who was recently diagnosed with Regressive Autism. Zombierunner Don Lundell told me to try this race called Coyote2Moon. I�ve read about it before but found it to be too difficult for me since it has a monster elevation gain of over 28,000 feet; about 10,000 feet more than Western States 100! After all I've been running since only 3 years and started doing hill training sessions just 8 months ago. Sure I've done the Rio del Lago 100 in 2006 but that one had only 9,000 feet elevation gain; moreover, I DNFed at last year's San Diego 100 at mile 50 because of a swollen ankle. It was clear to me that there is no way I could finish such a race and being an ultra runner I immediately signed up.

I had about 2 months to prepare for this race since January was fully booked with my parents visiting us from Switzerland. However, that should give me enough time to come up with lots of excuses I can use once I dropped out. No problem. However, deep inside my brain there was a corner who was thinking: what if? What if I can finish that thing? I definitely was ready to give it my best shoot.

Starting in February I kicked-up my training runs and Zombierunner Don gave me many useful tips and tricks how to prepare for this race. I also went to the website and started to study their hand-drawn course map. For me that didn�t really help much so I spent a few hours tracing the route on Google maps which made me realize that the course is indeed more difficult than I initially thought. In the meantime I posted my maps in the race's discussion forum for others to see.

My maps were good but not good enough. I needed more data. I'm a number junky and I wanted to have an exact schedule planned out. I wanted to know everything there is to know so on race day I can just shuffle along, trust my schedule without thinking numbers and getting confused. With that in mind I started to create a schedule map I would carry with me during the race. It took me several hours but once it was done it was to my liking. It was broken down from aid station to aid station. I knew how many miles it was to an aid station, how long it would take me to go there, how fast I had to move to get there at that time, how long I was allowed to stay there and when I had to be out of that aid station. It also showed me the overall passed time, the elevation chart and where my drop bags were. I knew when it would get dark and when daylight broke, how the temperatures would be during the day and night and that my average pace was 22:12 a mile.

Every day I was thinking about that race. I even dreamed about it. In that dream I was relaxing before the race start and Zombierunner Don knocked onto my car's door yelling that the race already has started and that I'm late. I told him that my wife is not here yet with my stuff and that I had no running shoes. In that dream I started to freak out and wanted to go run the race with my flip-flops. Luckily I then woke up realizing with great sense of relief that it was just a dream.

Race day approached fast and soon I found myself driving to beautiful Ojai. I arrived at the Rancho Grande around lunch on Friday. First thing I did was placing my 3 drop bags in their appropriate places. During check-in Cindy asked me if she could nail me. Looking at her a bit perplexed I said "sure" and she gave me 2 nails which I could trade in for food. It's a funny race, allright, and I already liked it. After a very delicious lunch, race director Chris Scott explained how things worked during the pre-race meeting. I also had the chance to chat with a few familiar faces like Don Lundell, Gillian Robinson, Barbara Elia and Carol Cuminale. Around 2 PM I went back to my car to relax and I had to smirk because right then I recalled my dream.

Unlike in that dream I was too nervous to sleep so I just sat there letting my mind wander. Months of preparations came down to this moment and it will the moment of truth because perhaps I am really not supposed to finish this thing. One hour prior to the race start I started to tape my feet. I also brought along a list with all the items I had to take, so I geared up making sure I had all the stuff I needed.

Sure enough at 4 PM sharp we were all off and everybody started to run except me. I promised myself to stick to my schedule, which gave me 3 hours for the first 9 miles, so I found no reasons to start off running. Moreover, this first section had an elevation gain of over 2,000 feet and I was determined to take it easy. Once running on the ridge the first friendships were formed and I talked to Chau (Joe) Pham and Mylinh Nguyen.

Along the way I also spoke to Mark Metcalfe and he guessed we were about 2 miles from the mile 9 Ridge Canyon aid station. Right after he said that we made a right turn and sure enough the aid station was right there. I checked my watch and saw that I am already 45 minutes ahead of my schedule. I ate some watermelon, filled up my Nathan hydration bladder and was out on my way down to the next aid station 8.2 miles away.

This section was fun and we dropped from about 4,900 feet to around 1,800. After a few miles on the fire road the sun went down and our first night started with the full moon peeking out from the mountain range. It was a beautiful clear night and along the way I chatted with Chrissy Weiss. With laughter we found out that we actually lived pretty close to each other. It's a small world after all. After carefully navigating through my first stream I arrived at the Sisar Canyon aid station. With a bit of a surprise I found out that I was a full 2 hours ahead of my schedule. I unconsciously pushed it too hard on this downhill and perhaps would pay for it later.

I was in and out that aid station within a few minutes. I felt great and was ready to tackle one of the hardest part of this race; the 7.5 miles and 4,300 feet elevation gain to Topa Peak which, with 6,100 feet, is the highest point of this race. Along the way I am talking on my cell to my wife Linda who was at home and it was great hearing her voice. 10 minutes after 11 PM, after walking on stones, sand and snow, I arrived at Topa Peak and the views were fantastic. I took one of the playing cards from the pile which we have to bring down to prove that we were on top, took a picture, and listened to the ghost of Topa; a toy monster face inside a glass bowl which upon pressing a little button moved his head, light up his eyes and brain and was talking about something. I sure found that amusing but it was pretty windy and cold so I was ready to go back one mile to the Lyon Canyon aid station. Just when I was about to leave Chau and Mylinh arrived at the top and I was happy to see them.

The downhill was easy and at 11:40 PM I arrived at the 26.1 mile aid station now 2 hours and 15 minutes ahead of my schedule. While there I marveled that I already did one quarter of the distance. I chatted with the awesome aid station people and thanked them for being here in the cold night supporting us doing this crazy thing. Without them we wouldn�t be able to do this race and I was really thankful.

Shortly before midnight I checked my schedule and learned that my next section is a 6.3 mile, 2,700 feet downhill run which I was supposed to do in 2 hours; meaning I'll have to move at a 19:02 minute a mile pace. Armed with that knowledge I got off the comfortable chair and went on my way.

This section was a bit more challenging than I thought, fighting my way through wild bushes with sharp thorns, small sandy trails on almost vertical cliffs, and a couple of streams where I successfully tried to keep my shoes dry because wet feet and running just does not work for me. For the first time the distance felt longer than it actually was but I did not let that disturb my good mood. Every time I felt irritated or moody or in a bad temper I called out loud my "Bad Mood Alarm;" basically stopping my bad thinking and overriding it with positive karma chanting rhythms like "You feel strong, you feel great." I used this strategy for the first time and it worked pretty well helping me stay in a positive mood for the whole duration of the race.

Upon arrival at the Rose Valley aid station, a 50K distance into this race, it was bitter cold. Later they told me that they recorded lows down to 22 degree Fahrenheit. I immediately searched for my drop bag because I had clean and warm clothes in there. With shock I discovered that I mislabeled my drop bags and that I won�t be able to change my clothes. Immediately my "Bad Mood Alarm" went off inside my head. While standing there shaking, waiting for a hot melted cheese sandwich, a volunteer offered me a blanket. However, I declined because I knew that if I am getting too comfortable I would stay here too long. I got my sandwich, thanked for it and made my way out of the aid station with my wet and stinky clothes. My strategy worked because a mile up the trail I warmed up enough to feel comfortable.

Almost two miles out the aid station I came by Dale Perry who was making his way down badly limping on his right leg. Dale twisted his ankle many miles back and obviously was in a lot of pain. While he was passing me I told him to "hang in there." Unfortunately, right then he twisted his ankle again and instantly shouted a very loud "FUUUUUUCK! I'm so tired of this s h i t!!" into the darkness expressing his frustration. I felt bad for him because I knew that this race was over for him.

After 12 hours and 15 minutes of leaving the starting line I arrived back at the Lyon Canyon aid station for the 2nd time; 38.7 miles into the race. From there the longest section started which was 12 miles without any aid stations. First the trail went downhill for 2.5 miles, then uphill for 4.5 and lastly downhill again for 5 miles. During the uphill portion I got pretty restless because an aid station volunteer told me that I'll have to take a sharp left turn after going uphill for about 2 miles and while actually walking the uphill the turn didn't show up. I was afraid that I missed the turn knowing that I've gone much further than 2 miles. Eventually that left turn did show up and I was pretty relieved. One main goal of mine was not to get lost at this race because I did lose over 1.5 hours at the Rio del Lago 100. I eventually reached that goal because I never got lost at this race.

Two minutes after 8 AM Saturday morning I arrived at the 7th aid station Thacher School. It also marked the half-way point of this race being at mile 50.7. I now was 2 hours and 50 minutes ahead of my schedule and I simply was waiting for the big event where I would crash and burn badly. In my mind it was clear that this should happen soon and it sounded like a nice excuse for me not being able to finish this thing. "It was just too hard!" or "I've pushed it too much at the beginning!" would be all valid excuses after my DNF.

However, I strangely felt great with no aches whatsoever. I also was surprisingly awake, not feeling tired at all. Apparently I was about the 4th or so runner into this aid station and they weren't set up at all. Luckily they had food and water and while I was there I even helped them set up their tables. Unfortunately, our drop bags didn't make it there yet so I wasn't able to separate from my stinky clothes quite yet.

On my way back up to Ridge Canyon, which also was our 9 mile aid station, it occurred to me that it took me 16 hours for the first half of the race and I had 24 hours left to complete the second half. Smiling and with big thinking eyes I wondered if I indeed had a shot of finishing this thing. Only time will tell because I had a long way to go.

About 2 miles before the next aid station the first 100K runners passed me on their way down to Thacher School. They all were great telling me words of encouragements which was awesome and gave me a good rush. Ridge Canyon aid station came and went by fast. There I got some sunscreen courtesy of zombierunner.com which was awesome because the sun was starting to get hot and I didn�t want to get burned. Running west along the ridge towards the Rose Valley aid station was pretty much uneventful. Along the way there were patches of snow. I kneeled in some of them and the cooling effect felt awesome to my tired legs. I was looking forward to my 4th descent because according to my schedule it was only about 2.5 miles long making it look an easy one. Once there I recognized that the downhill was so steep that I wasn�t able to run it at all but had to walk it all the way down, which I did.

Arriving at that aid station the 2nd time it was way nicer than 11 hours and 30 minutes ago when it was dark, windy and cold. This stop also marked the 100K distance into this race. Interestingly, that aid station offered pickles, Jack Daniels and a delicious ham and cheese burrito. Those volunteers are so awesome! There I also met Nick, who's from the UK, and we chatted for a bit. I saw that he printed out my maps I posted at the race's discussion forum and I told him that I created them. He was really thankful for it and told me that they helped a lot.

Together with Nick I left that aid station power-walking back up that steep hill. He told me that he is doing a race every weekend and that simply amazed me. Half-way up the hill he took off strong and I fell behind because I had to conserve my energy. I was still 2 hours and 45 minutes ahead of my schedule so I wasn't too worried going a bit slower.

Once I made it to the top of the ridge I ran west towards the Gridley Top aid station and arrived there within 2 hours and 5 minutes after leaving the last aid station. My schedule gave me 1 hour and 40 minutes for that section so for the first time in this race I lost some time. No big deal, I thought.

On my way down to Gridley Bottom, Karl Meltzer passed me fast and looking strong. He eventually finished this 100 mile race in 19:24:16, which is ridiculously fast. Upon coming into Gridley Bottom I saw my wife Linda and my 2-month-old daughter Sophie waiting for me. What a surprise! They decided to come up for the last part of this race to support me and I was mighty happy to see them. I spent 30 minutes in that aid station which was the longest break ever since starting this race. There I also chatted with Steve Ansell and he told me that in 3 weeks he'll run the challenging Diablo 50 miler. WOW! Sharp at 5 PM Saturday evening I left that aid station and also saw the sinking sun for the last time.

At 8:20 PM I got back to the Gridley Top aid station where I refueled my hydration bladder for the 12th time. Again, I've lost some time but I'm still way ahead of my schedule. As I was about to leave an aid station volunteer asked me how I was doing. I told her that I have a blister on my right foot and she told me that her husband could fix it. Rick Miller indeed fixed it and he did an awesome job because that blister never ever bothered me again.

The way down to Cozy Dell was more difficult than I thought. It was dark and the full moon was shining down on us once again. I was walking a lot in order to be careful. The last thing I wanted was to stumble and fall or twist my ankle so late into this race so I took my sweet time. Within the last 1.5 miles to the Cozy Dell aid station I started to heavily hallucinate which really scared me and I was happy to arrive at the aid station almost at midnight. By now I have lost a lot of time and was only 30 minutes ahead of my schedule.

It was windy and cold there and I made the mistake of sitting inside Linda's car for a few minutes. When I was getting out of the car the cold hit me I started to shake violently. It was so bad that I was not able to screw back the lit of a water bottle. Linda looked worried but I knew that I'd warm up once I got moving. I got myself a hot tea and was out the aid station to conquer my last uphill in this race.

I still felt good. I was a bit tired but not as bad as the first night and I experienced no pain whatsoever. Little did I know that all that was about to change within the next 7.7 miles. About a mile out of the aid station I felt a big blister on the heel of my left foot which started to hurt pretty badly. For a while I was limping, putting weird pressures onto my foot, and sure enough my ankle, which I previously hurt at the San Diego 100, started to act up. On top of that some chafing started inside my thighs. And if that wasn't enough both of my flashlights started to die on me and I was afraid that I'd have to wander about those trails in the dark soon. The uphill seemed never to end and it was the hardest thing I ever did on any race. One of my strategies was to listen to Endurance Planet's "Tales from the Trail" during that uphill and it worked out very well keeping me motivated to move forward. Especially hearing the story from Ben Holmes and how badly he was chafing at his 6th attempt of the 2008 Rocky Raccoon didn't give me any rights whatsoever to whine or complain.

Slowly but surely I arrived at the Gridley Top aid station for the 3rd and last time 94.6 miles into the race. I only had 3.8 miles to go (yes, this race is actually 98.4 miles long). Race director Chris told me that I've done well this year and with those words echoing inside my brain I was out on the last part of this race. Luckily some volunteer back at the aid station was able to lend me a flashlight which helped me a great deal.

I had 4 hours for 3.8 miles. I could push myself along the way with my eyebrows and still make it. Unless I fell somewhere to my death or some wild animal is eating me for a late dinner, I actually could finish this thing. This realization kicked in fully when I arrived at my last downhill about 2.5 miles to the finish line. On the uphill from Cozy Dell I gave everything I had and by now I was running on raw and empty. I was beaten to death but I didn't care. Within the hour I would finish and strangely enough I was in no hurry to have it pass. I'm an emotional wreck and some tears are running down my salty cheeks. I have not the slightest desire to sleep despite being up for over 37 hours and moving for about 96 miles. I intentionally wanted to move slowly and let the realization of my complete race fully sink in. Right then and there I came to understand that the most fulfilling part of this race was the actual journey and not reaching the finish line.

It took me 1 hour and 40 minutes to cover the last 3.8 miles. Many other runners passed me on that section and 37 hours and 43 minutes after I started I crossed the finish line. I was only 43 minutes behind my schedule and I was pretty darn proud of my accomplishment. I got some compliments, took some pictures and headed straight to my car to take a nap, which I did for about 2 hours.

Around 8:30 Sunday morning Linda and I got served some awesome breakfast. They even had a Champagne Mimosa table set up. We chatted with other people and Chris made the award ceremony fun. All 100-mile finishers got their belt buckles and way too soon it was time to say good-bye. My wife and I drove back to Anaheim Hills in our cars; however, along the way I had to pull over and take another couple of hours rest because I was afraid I would fall asleep while driving. I eventually made it home safe where my family was waiting for me.

I stepped through the door, looked at them and said: "Yeah, I guess I did finish that thing!"

Jakob Herrmann

"You know when you're running a ultra marathon because the pain actually starts to hurt"

--Jakob Herrmann

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