Time: 6:57:05
Place: 4
What a crazy race. 35 miles across some very tough terrain in tough conditions...bring it on, right? Cody and I drove up to Pocatello on Friday night after work and made it to the 50 Mile starting area at Mink Creek just as the temperatures were starting to cool off and the sun was going down. We set up Cody's tent (mostly because of the bugs) and both went to bed fairly early. I actually slept exceptionally well, despite only using a couple of blankets for a sleeping pad, and woke up quite refreshed at around 5:30 after hearing Cody rummaging about getting ready for his race. He was running the 50 miler, which started at 6 AM, while my race, the 50k (legs 2 and 3 of the 50M), wouldn't start until 8:30. I lounged around drinking water and Powerade until I felt sick, because the weather report was calling for a scorcher. After the start of the 50M I got dressed in my race clothes and ate some last minute snacks and got on the bus that would take me to the starting line.
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| 50 Mile Start |
Ty, myself, and two other guys quickly formed the lead pack and headed off at a brisk but manageable pace. The lead guy seemed to be antsy, and he began putting distance on us right away. The rest of us decided to let him go, knowing that there were still 30+ miles of racing ahead. Turned out to be a good decision. The first leg was 15 miles between the City Creek Trailhead and Mink Creek, the first half of which varied between a moderate and insane climb. The first few miles flew by, as I'd run this part of the course before. Presently, the other guy (Brian, I think) began to move ahead chasing the first guy who took off, but I decided that my best strategy would be to hang around Ty. I correctly surmised that he would be the man to beat in this race. We chatted off and on and got to know each other a little bit, although we were already somewhat acquainted. Ty is a really cool guy...a great person to run with on some trail in the middle of nowhere. After the first few miles of gradual climb, the trail became very steep and rocky, taking us up a narrow draw leading straight up the side of the mountain. The overhanging scrub formed a sort of tunnel which was nice and shady. I already knew that today was going to be very hot, because the temperature, while initially cool, was beginning to rise rather quickly. Eventually, we exited the chute and began hiking up out of the ravine and soon crested the mountain onto a dirt road. We could see the leader about 2 minutes ahead of us, and Brian about a minute ahead. At this point, the course turned to a long, gradual downhill, and we began to open up the pace a bit and close the gap. We soon caught Brian, and by the time we got to the first aid station we had nearly a minute on him. We quickly filled our bottles and began hiking up another 600 foot climb. The second guy made up some time here, as we were kind of dilly-dallying, saving our strength for the really tough parts ahead. He hung with us as we reached the top of the climb and began the smooth and very gradual descent into Mink Creek Aid. Somewhere along here, Ty peeled off into the bushes for a pit stop, and I decided that if I was going to get a chance to make a move, this would be it and likely my only one. So, I flipped the knob to my best mile-eating pace without killing myself and tried to put some distance between me and Ty. I quickly dropped Brian, and just cruised along enjoying the run. About a mile or so out from the aid, I unexpectedly caught the lead guy. I don't know if he was hurting or if I was just feeling really good going fast but I blew past him and he quickly dropped out of sight. In the space of less than probably 3 miles I went from 4th to 1st with a nice lead. I determined that my best strategy would be to hang on to the lead as long as possible, and to try and get out of range of Ty's insane downhill gear before the descent off of Scout Mountain, about 13 miles +/- ahead. I'm no slouch of a downhill runner compared to most, but Ty is in a league of his own. I pulled into the aid feeling great about how everything was going thus far. The aid station personnel were great and had my drop bag ready for me so while they were filling my bottle I grabbed a couple of sleeves of Shot Bloks and another Nutri-Grain bar, as well as some potato chips. I finished off by stuffing half a PB&J into my mouth. I was loaded up for the long road over Scout Mountain.
Once out of Mink Creek aid, I began to really notice the heat of the day. Until now, it had been morning time and the trail had been relatively shaded, but at this point the trail became more exposed to the already hot sun. Water was going to be an issue, so I began to think that I should have brought two bottles. Too late. Soon I heard a sound behind me, and glancing over my shoulder I saw that I was being pursued by the guy I passed before Mink. He looked to be feeling good and was obviously making up ground on me. I tried to pick up the pace without redlining and began to put the distance back on him. The heat and fatigue were beginning to tell on me, but I was still feeling decent and that's just part of the game. By the time I reached the next aid station, I had put at least a minute back on him on a pretty tough grunt of a section. Luke met me 3-4 minutes in front of the aid and gave me an update on the 50 mile race. It was nice to have a little help and encouragement there, and he got some orange slices (note to self, orange slices are awesome) and S-caps ready for me. I left the aid with renewed vigor and got ready for the tough climb up Scout Mountain.
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| The 50k consists of Legs 2 and 3 of the 50M. Mink Creek Aid is at the bottom of the "V" between 2 and 3. |
I had no idea how far back Ty was, and I wasn't too excited about anyone else catching me, so I decided that it was now or never to put the hammer down. This section was really beastly. Not a lot of runnable territory. Lots of hiking. But, here I discovered that I actually have an uphill gear. I was figuring that Ty couldn't be more than a couple of minutes back, and that the other guy was probably somewhere closer (assuming Ty hadn't passed him--not a safe assumption), and I was also guessing that Brian was somewhere within 5 minutes of me. At one point there were three random college age kids, one wearing a were-wolf suit. Side story: apparently there had been a Sasquatch sighting a couple of weeks before the race in the area--I'm guessing that had something to do with the wolf suit. They were hollering and screaming like a bunch of drunk Indians. I waved as I powerhiked past them, chuckling to myself but glad of the support. About a hundred yards past them I heard them yelling again, and got a bit of a scare, but it turned out to be a 20 mile runner. He caught me and we chatted for a bit. Nice guy. He took off and I kept powerhiking. This section was actually pretty empowering, because I discovered a new uphill ability. I was moving really well...better than I ever remember on such a tough section. Soon I got out of the trees and onto the more exposed mountainside. There were switchbacks, and I thought I could make out Ty about 5 minutes behind, along with a few 20 milers between us. I was really surprised that I'd been able to put that kind of distance on him uphill. I came across one of the very few snow patches and filled my hat with it. It started melting in my eyes and stinging really bad, so I switched the brim around to the back and that was really nice because it would drip water down my back--very nice. The rest of the climb was pretty uneventful. Got passed by a couple more 20 milers and didn't really care, saw some four-wheeler riders who thought we were crazy, filled my hat with snow again. The views were great from the top of Scout. This really is a very scenic course. Finally I reached the summit, and a guy said it was 3 miles to the aid, all downhill. He lied. It had to have been at least 5. It was definitely downhill though. The first part of the descent is usually a glissade down a snowfield, but this year with the hot temperatures and lack of snow it was a downhill hike. I was tired and not too excited for the steep drop, but I made it down to the more sensible and runnable section without falling on my face, so it was a success. The fast descent started to mess with my breathing again, but I think I have discovered how to deal with it. I noticed that I would not breathe as deeply as I needed to, but if I focused on it I could do better. I also found that putting my hands on my head for a few steps helped to loosen up my diaphragm. Somewhere in here I ran out of water. Poor planning. Couldn't eat without water, so I got no electrolytes, and no water for at least a mile. Not good. I paid a heavy price.
I FINALLY reached the final aid station at Big Fur (Fir?--who knows) after what seemed an eternity. I was swearing under my breath at the jerk at the top who said it was only three miles. Probably not too nice of me, but hopefully you'll cut me some slack. Should have been more familiar with the course. The aid did look like the pearly gates of heaven at this point. I was thinking I had 7 miles to go, probably because the heat wasn't helping my math skills, but they said it was only 5. I asked for water, orange slices, and S-caps. I tore into a couple of orange slices and got a big glassful of water. It was super cold and refreshing. Unfortunately, I was too far gone on my electrolytes, and I didn't get 10 feet out of the aid before it all came back up. Ty finally caught me at this point, with the lead 50 miler hot on his heels. He got out of the aid before I finished losing my breakfast. From here, things went downhill in a hurry. Actually, they went uphill. After a brief stint on the blazing hot asphalt road, and a couple of stops to puke up the water I was trying to drink, the course turned onto a dirt road/snowmobile trail, and climbed relentlessly uphill. I had been expecting this, but I had also been expecting to be able to run more than 100 feet without stopping to puke my guts out. My state continued to worsen, and I was reduced first to walking, then walking from one shade tree to the next and stopping to rest and throw up. This continued for what felt like forever. Got passed by lots of people, mostly 50 and 20 milers. Saw Karl Meltzer come running past like he was out on an easy Saturday run, and he tried to get me moving as he ran past. Surprisingly, there seemed to be no 50k runners passing me. The second place guy had passed me at the turnoff onto the dirt, but no one in the hour or so since, so I was still somehow in third place. Finally, when I had just over a mile to go, a guy caught me and knocked me back into fourth. No big clay urn for me today. But I didn't have anything in me to do anything about it. Shortly after that, I stopped under a shade tree to try and bring my body temperature down. I could just feel myself cooking to death, and I knew I was in trouble. This was no longer a race for placing or fun, but a matter of survival. I had water, but could not keep it down. Dangerous. Do not try this at home. As I was lying there, some kindly 20 milers stopped and asked if I was ok. I finally admitted that I wasn't and told them to let the people at the finish know that I was in bad shape, but that I was going to try and make it in anyway. I was this [] close to DNF-ing in the last two miles of the race. But, thankfully that was not to be. Cody finally caught me and told me to get off my butt and run the last mile. I didn't realize I was that close (remember, my Garmin was dead), so I got to my feet and began to shuffle forward again. Another kind lady, Sherry I think was her name, bless her heart, gave me some encouragement and said she would run in with me, as we were going about the same speed. She really kept me going and I finally found the ability to run under my own power again, thanks to an S-cap that finally started working. The last mile was torturous, but I made it into the finish in one piece and very glad to be done with the hardest race of my life, and in 4th place despite the adversity.
The last five miles took me almost two hours to complete, but I still finished in just under 7 hours. Not bad considering the extreme heat, my poor planning, and the resulting 5 mile death march. Surprisingly, I was able to recover very quickly once I got some water to stay down and got cooled off in the shade. There was some little kid at the water spigot who was taking great pride in spraying down grateful runners with a hose. He asked if I wanted to be sprayed and I gladly accepted. Heavenly. Cody, however, did not fare so well. I did a lot of my recovery on the course, but after he finished, his condition deteriorated rather than improved. I got my appetite back and was enjoying a giant bowl of chili, provided after the race (Best. Chili. EVER. Sorry Mom, I'm sure yours is just as good after running 35 miles) when Cody sat down next to me and it was immediately obvious that he was in a bad way. He was white as a sheet, soaking wet, and shaking like a quaking aspen leaf on a windy day. He couldn't eat, drink, or do much of anything besides shuffle over to the fire pit and try to throw up. I was keeping an eye on him, wondering if he'd recover or if he would need help, when he asked me to go get Luke (the RD/"freaking doctor") to help. Long story short, he ended up in the medical trailer with an IV in his arm hugging bags of ice. Kind of comical, actually. He was a new man after about an hour of that. Here's a photo of he and Ty being revived:
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| Note the barf bowl by Cody's leg. Thankfully they didn't use it. |
