One More Hundred

Just wanted to give a shout out to fellow MRC'er Greg who is heading up to the great Northwest for the Hundred in the Hood.  May you feel light on your feet and have the race you envision.  
Looks like there won't be a live webcast but if anyone will be tweeting or such please post in the comments.  I'll post something as soon as I hear.


Also, good luck to all the runners getting ready to tackle the Bear 100 this weekend.  Looks to be ideal conditions, if not a little on the warm side.  Take care and drink plenty throughout the day.  The section before between Right Hand Fork (mi. 37) and Temple Fork (mi. 45) is completely exposed and gets awfully hot.

Wasatch 100 2009 - Christian's Report

I stumbled into the Alexander ridge aid station at mile 47 and turned my focus on the camp chairs situated in the shade. My vision had become slightly blurred and I was seeing double. I remember thinking I had to be careful as I sat down, if I missed the chair and fell on the ground people might think there was something wrong with me. I was in bad shape. My stomach had been incapable of holding anything down for hours and I was terribly dehydrated. I slumped down in the chair, facing the ridge that was trying once again to ruin my race. Two years prior, in my first attempt at a 100 miler, I had sat in this exact spot, defeated. Again, I wanted to quit, I just didn't say it out loud.

I closed my eyes and dug deep to find the willpower just to convince myself I could finish this damn thing, but there was nothing there. When I opened my eyes I was holding a cup of sprite. I had no idea how it got there until I saw Clark, my friend and pacer peppering me with questions about what I wanted to eat. I closed my eyes again and this time I started hearing familiar voices and their encouraging, if not demanding words. Phrases such as "Don't let me down", "I'll be disappointed if you don't finish" and "Whatever you do, don't quit". Those words from my family and friends were the only thing keeping me in the race at this point.

Clark chimed in again, "What can I get you?".

"I'll try some of those grapes and cantaloupe", I replied.

I drifted off a few more times, eating and drinking in between, slowly gaining some strength back. Then I watched as a runner and his pacer walked off the ridge in the wrong direction, quitting the race, just like I had done 2 years prior. Something switched inside of me at that moment as I turned all my focus on eating and drinking. I let go of all my time goals and placing, thinking only of eating, drinking and the next aid station almost six miles away. My family was waiting for me there and I knew that seeing them would give me a big lift. For the first time in an hour I stood up.

"179 out", Clark suddenly announced to everyone at the aid station.

I turned so I was facing east, the direction of the race course and with blazing sun at my back I walked out of the aid station, bound for Lambs Canyon. As my strength slowly returned so did my confidence. By the time we reached the top of the next climb I was finally ready to run. The descent down to Lamb's Canyon is pretty easy and it felt good to get my legs turning over again. By the time we made it to the aid station all doubt of finishing had been erased. Even though I had 47 miles left, it felt like a formality to me at this point. I couldn't believe the turnaround. I owe a large part of it to Clark who had kept the fluids and calories flowing for the past several hours, along with the encouragement I received from everyone I saw along the way. Matt Connors deserves a big thanks for taking time out to give me some pickled ginger, it did wonders to calm my turbulent stomach.

Just before the wheels came off, trying to cool off at Big Mtn.

Once we got in to Lamb's it was great to see my incredibly supportive family, who immediately sat me down and presented me with every food and beverage option available. Between my family and Christy (Clark's wife) they had every base covered. I tried to apologize for keeping them waiting and explain what had happened but they were only interested in getting me going, moving me closer to the finish.

Finally feeling better at Lamb's surrounded by my awesome support crew

Clark and I left the aid station heading up the cooler confines of Lamb's Canyon and the long climb up Bear Ass Pass. My legs felt fine on the climb but my energy was still low so we just made slow, but steady progress to the top. Upon reaching the pass we were treated to a beautiful sunset which also meant I was forced to use my headlamp heading down to Elbow Fork. Once again the descent felt great as I got in a nice rhythm passing several folks in front of me. I savored the good feelings because I knew the next section would not be pleasant. The eight mile climb from Elbow Fork up to the Crest is one of the longest in the race, interrupted by the aid station at Big Water. Waiting for me was my family and next pacer, Aric, who would be along for the ride to Brighton. The paved climb to Big Water leaves little to be desired, but since it was dark it seemed to go quicker than I had anticipated.

Once again I got a big lift from seeing my family and friends at the aid station and Brian Beckstead even came over to wish me well. I changed in to a clean shirt, filled some bottles and thanked Clark for pulling me through my dark period, then Aric and I were off. I wasn't exactly moving quickly but I was steady on the climb to the Desolation Lake aid station getting there in about an hour and a half. My stomach was a little off once again, so I took my time at the remote aid and had some broth with noodles that seemed to do the trick.

I left Desolation at around 11:15pm, three and half hours over my pre-race goal of 7:45pm. My mind wandered back to the first 40 miles and how effortless it had felt. I started with Erik, Jay and Peter until midway up the 5000' climb where Peter and I parted ways with Erik and Jay who kept a faster pace on the initial climb. All the way through to Big Mountain the pace had felt conservative, but I realized now that I had only been listening to my legs and not my head. Peter left Big Mountain with Greg, who was pacing him to Brighton, just a minute or so before me. I was sure that I would catch up in mile or so but that's when my stomach backfired and I started my death march to Alexander Ridge. On my way out of Big Mountain I was in 15th place but by the time I had left Alexander I dropped down to 80th. Now I had no idea where I was placed, nor did it matter.

Aric and I reached the crest with a number of headlamps dotting the black space in front of us. I ran quite a lot on the way to Scott's pass where I learned that Geoff Roes had just finished with a new course record in 18:30! I was amazed and a little bit inspired as I decided to pick up the pace to Brighton and get some momentum going. I don't particularly enjoy the pavement leading down from the trail junction to Brighton but I figured as long as I felt good I should get it over with as quickly as possible. Betsy met me at the Brighton lodge with my friend Sandy, who would be joining me for the last 25 miles. Even though it was past 1am Betsy and Sandy were very alert, making sure I was prepared for the last section of the race. I spent 10 mins there and I suppose I kind of got sucked in to the warmth of the lodge that so many runners avoid, but with the toughest 25 miles of the race left I felt that it was time well spent. I glanced at my watch before leaving and told Betsy that I was now aiming for a sub 30 hour finish and to expect me around 10am. She just shook her head as if I was crazy. What I didn't know at the time is that I was completely incapable of performing basic math at this point and I didn't understand the pace I was maintaining. Betsy just told me to keep running and she would see me at the finish. Then I thanked Aric for his help and walked out of the lodge.

The climb from Brighton to Point Supreme (the high point of the race at an altitude of 10,450') has a few runnable sections, but I didn't bother as I shifted into power hike mode. As slow as I felt we were moving I still managed to catch a few people in front of us, partly because of Sandy's enthusiasm. Anytime a light came into view I would feel Sandy wanting to push the pace, a pattern I would get used to the rest of the night. Near the top we passed a group of four or five runners and kept the momentum going on the long descent to the Ant Knolls aid station. Before Sandy and I arrived at the aid station he made sure to get a plan together in order to get me in and out of there a little quicker. Broth and noodles seemed to go down easy but it became apparent on the Grunt (a 400' climb that feels like a wall) that I was still lacking energy to fuel my legs. From the top of the Grunt to the Point of Contention I moved at a fairly decent rate and then looking toward the Rock Springs aid station I saw another group of runners. I definitely picked up the pace a bit because I wanted to avoid a logjam at the tiny aid station on the side of the trail. A few of us all arrived in close proximity but we still got out of there in good time.

I approached the next section known as "Irv's torture chamber" with some caution. Even though I had been running downhill with ease, the Dive and Plunge are never easy. I mostly surfed both of the loose and dusty descents because that was pretty much the only way to get down. I even managed to put some distance between myself and Sandy but it was only because he was forced to drop back and wait for the dust to settle so he could see anything. Once we were back on smoother trail he caught up to me quickly and we cruised into the Pot Bottom aid station (mi. 93) just as the sky was turning pale blue. I downed a Red Bull and some water before heading up last significant climb of the race. Reaching the high point on the ridge I was able to witness my second sunrise since beginning this adventure and it definitely gave me a little boost. Sandy tried to capitalize on my increased pace by mentioning the "sweet" descent coming up but I just laughed because I always seem to curse this section in training. As much I don't like it we still ran pretty quickly passing Corbin Talley and his pacer before reaching the water tank. I caught my breath on the climb up to the water tank and told Sandy about my idea of a "sweet" descent coming up. The tight singletrack that winds down through the maples really is one of my favorite sections of the race, not just because it is so close to the finish but mostly because it is truly fun to me. As soon as I stepped off the ATV trail and on to the singletrack I was flying, or at least that's the way I felt. I think it's funny how a 7 or 8 minute mile feels like a 5 or 6 at this point in an ultra. I suppose it's all about perception. At any rate, I was really getting in a groove when I saw a flash of white in front of me. It was another runner, Matt Galland, and he tried to hold me off but I was rollin and as long I felt like it I was going to keep my pace up. Matt graciously stepped aside shortly after I caught him and for a moment I thought I had left Sandy behind. It turned out that he had stopped to pick up my long sleeve shirt that had fallen out of my waist pack. We were soon dumped out on the paved road with a little less than a mile to go and Sandy decided to keep my downhill pace going on the flat. I had a hard time keeping up and every time I would start to close the gap to him he would just pull away a little more. Once the Homestead and the finish line came into view I didn't have any trouble running with "perceived" speed as I floated on to the lawn and grabbed my kids hands to run across the finish line with me. I gave Betsy and my kids a big hug, shook John Grobben's (Race Director) hand and got a congratulations from Peter and Erik before I finally sat down without having to worry about a clock.

My final time was 27 hours and 11 minutes good for 27th place. Not exactly the race I was hoping for but a finish that I'm definitely proud of. My biggest thanks goes to my family who were so supportive and refused to give up on me. I don't know how I would have done it without them. To all my friends and family that weren't there, but willed me out of that chair and down the trail, thanks. Clark, Aric, and Sandy, thank you for taking time out of your busy schedules to share some time on the trail with me, your help was invaluable. And finally, thanks to John Grobben and the whole Wasatch family for all their hard work and dedication throughout the year that really makes the Wasatch 100 such a special race.

Wasatch 2009

15 minutes before the start of this year's Wasatch 100, I was sitting in the port-a-john reviewing possible complications that could arise during the next 24 hours, and how to fix them. Then I stood up, pulled my shorts up, and the drawstring to my shorts broke. THAT was a complication I hadn't planned on. Well, shorts or no shorts, it was time to run.

The first 40 miles were fairly uneventful. I spent time running with Christian Johnson, Peter Lindgren, Shane Martin, Jay Aldous, Corbin Talley and a few others. About halfway up the first big climb, Jay and I settled in together, and I wondered if this was to be a repeat of Kat'cina Mosa, running the whole race together. The sunrise was spectacular lighting up the Salt Lake Valley to the west, and the Morgan valley to the East. As we neared the Francis Peak Aid Station(mile 22), I was a little concerned with our pace. We arrived 10 minutes before my earliest split estimate, and I felt like we hadn't pushed it at all, and I was feeling great. I decided to back off just a little bit, and about halfway to Bountiful B, Jay slowly started to pull away and I had a hunch that this was the last I'd see of him. I pulled into Bountiful B and what a treat it was to see Tom Nelson, Dan Hendrickson and Rich McDonald with his daughter Savannah there. They were rocking out to Eye of the Tiger and I felt like Rocky as I climbed the little hill into the aid station.

Somewhere between Bountiful B and Sessions, I passed Corbin Talley ( I don't remember when, where or how) and that was the last runner I would see for the next 40 miles or so. From there to Big Mountain things went smoothly. The only issues I had were trying to keep my shorts from around my ankles, and dealing with the contusion on my left upper thigh from a fall in the rocks 10 miles into the race. It really hurt when it happened and my thigh was starting to stiffen up.

For those of you who have never run a 100 mile race, let me tell you that there is NO better feeling than coming into an aid station and seeing the smiling faces of family and friends. There is no bigger boost to a runner. Big Mountain was no exception. When I heard Brooke and family and friends yell my name and the horns blowing and bells ringing, I was slightly overwhelmed. The tears were flowing a little bit and I couldn't wait to see Brooke and my kids. It happens every time, I'm a softy.

Kevin Shilling was waiting to pace me from Big Mountain to Millcreek and I was looking forward to some good company, and a pair of shorts with a new drawstring. Despite it's bad reputation, I really enjoy the section from Big Mountain to Alexander Springs. From Alexander to Lambs is another story. I was drinking a lot trying to catch up on my fluids and I fear I may have overdone it. My stomach started feeling a bit sloshy on the ridge down to Alexander Springs, and that, combined with the heat, were enough to eventually cause me to pull over and throw up for the first time that day. Why didn't I get that over with sooner? As soon as it was out, I felt like a million bucks-a classic case of "vomitus euphorious." After Alexander Springs, I did a lot of walking to Lambs Canyon. Kevin was good company and kept me moving through the heat and we arrived at Lambs just a few minutes behind my estimated split for that section, but still doing good. From Lambs to Millcreek was awesome. It felt so good to get out of the heat and into the shade. While taking a pitstop at the Lambs Canyon trailhead, Neil Gorman from Richmond, VA came motoring by looking strong. I had passed him about 40 miles prior to this and he was wondering if he was going to be able to make because of the altitude. Apparently the altitude hadn't affected him at all!

One of the best parts of the race came when Kevin and I were heading up the road from Elbow Fork to Big Water. I saw a poster taped to the trees and realized it was a picture of my kids! And that wasn't the only one. For the next mile or so, there were 4 more posters with huge pictures of my kids on them that said stuff like "May the force be with you Dad" (picture of Sam and Andrew in Star Wars costumes holding light sabers) and "My daddy runs faster than your daddy". Have I got an awesome wife and kids or what? Thanks Brooke, that totally made my day!!

At Big Water, I said thanks to Kevin and met up with good friend Erik Badger who would run with me to Brighton. Erik was perfect. I wasn't feeling too peppy at this point and about halfway up to Dog Lake, I threw up for the second time. Again, a classic case of "vomitus euphorious" and we were able to make some good time from there. I still wasn't feeling 100%, but better and Erik was the perfect calming help I needed. He encouraged me when I needed it, didn't get too in my face about eating and drinking, and had good stories to keep me entertained while I didnt' have to talk back. As a side note, if anyone reading this has not seen a sunset from Red Lovers Ridge above Desolation Lake, go do it tonight! It's one of the more beautiful things you will ever see in your life, and this night lived up to my expectations.

Erik and I rolled through Scotts Pass feeling pretty good, and then, as soon as the pavement started at Guardsman's Pass, the wheels came completely off. I was a train wreck. All I wanted to do was get to Brighton, sit down, have a cup of soup and take a 10 minute break. I got to Brighton, had my cup of soup, and tried to take my 10 minute break, but my new pacer, Drill Sergeant McDonald, would hear nothing of it. The biggest temptation to drop out was right there. Rich and Kevin were trying to pry me out of my chair, there were all sorts of friends and family there to say hi to (thanks everyone for being there!!) and then Andrew, my 2 year old came sauntering over in his pj's with his favorite blanket and stuffed animal and crawled into my lap. Aaaaahhhh. I completely melted. He was so warm and soft and cuddly and I just wanted to sit there with him the rest of the night. Brooke started yelling to people to get him out of my lap, and Andrew told me I was stinky. Suddenly, the magic was over, and I found myself walking up the mountain for the last 25 miles.

I had 7 1/2 hours to break 24 hours, and I had serious doubts that it would happen. That climb to Sunset Peak was the longest 40 minutes of my life. I was staggering around like a drunken sailor and couldn't get anything in my mouth, let alone down to my stomach. I even had a porcupine shuffle in front of me and my first thought was "It's my lucky night, if I kick this porky and stick my foot full of quills, I'll have a legitimate excuse to drop." Luckily, Rich got me to the top without completely falling apart. Thanks Rich!! The mental turn around started at the Beach when out of nowhere, we saw a light and heard music and there was my good friend Preston Aro (Preston paced me Brighton to theHomestead my first Wasatch and completely saved my bacon), partying with reggae music, beach umbrella, hawaiin shirt and cold Corona's. It was so good to see him and from there on I was a different man. I made it into Ant Knolls with a whole train of lights coming down after me. It looked like 8-10 people were on my tail, and I wasn't going to get passed by any of them! I left Ant Knolls with a cup of broth and some hot chocolate in me just as Dave Hunt and Carter Williams came in and they told me that Rich had stopped to fiddle with his lights and would catch in a second.. The climb up the grunt was a grunt, and Dave and Carter were still on my tail about 1 minute back. From there to Pole Line, I felt like I had wings on my feet and I didnt' see any more lights behind me, including Rich's. I got out of Poleline with more broth and hot chocolate, and wondered what the heck had happened to Rich. (It turns out that he tweaked his hip right after Pole Line and had to walk to Rock Springs-Sorry Rich and thanks for getting me up to Catherines Pass!!)Going around Forest Lake to the Point of Contention, I could see two lights ahead of me by only a couple minutes (woohoo!), and a bunch behind me, now 5-6 minutes back. At Rock Springs I caught up with Mike Foote and his pacer, and then just after the dive and the plunge I caught up to Neil Gorman, who had passed me many long miles before. (Another side note-I understand that the dive and the plunge will be bypassed in future races, and I'm truly sad to see them go. I love technical, crappy stuff like that, and I will miss that part of the race.) Neil and I played leap frog for the next few miles until Pot Bottom. He left a minute before I did, and after more broth, hot chocolate and coke, I caught up to him on the long road climb and we ran together for about 15 minutes. I tried to eat something when we got to the top of the road which did not sit well at all, so I threw up for the third time that night. No vomitus euphorious this time, but I felt a little better, I knew I only had an hour to go, and I could smell the barn. So I told Neil I was going to run while I could and he would probably catch up soon and I ran for it. Woohoooo!!! All I could think of was getting done, and I was STOKED that I was going to finish under 23 hours. I got off the trail, onto the last 1/2 mile of road and the wind went out of my sails. I trotted, shuffled, then hobbled that last little bit and then it was over.

What a day. 22 hours and 42 minutes. That really surpassed all my expectations and I couldn't have asked for a better day.

Thanks everyone for all your support and encouragement! One of the neat things of the day was that in the back of my mind I knew I was running to raise money for the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation. Thank you everyone that supported this great cause. So far we've raised over $1000.

Congrats to all the finishers and especially to good friends Peter Lindgren (23:46-First Cheetah in 7 finishes),Christian Johnson (who toughed it out through the miserable heat of the day for a 27:11), and Jay Aldous (who ran an amazing and inspirational 22:03).

Thanks Brooke, Sam, Andrew and Kate for providing inspiration and motivation, to all the family and friends who were there during the day, to Wasatch Running Center for their continued support and expertise, and especially to the race committee and all the volunteers who make this great event possible every year. Now....... it's time to rest.

Wastach Front 100

The last time I ran the Wasatch Front 100 was in 1983. That year, elite ultra-runner Jared Campbell was just 4 years old. When I finished, I vowed I would never run this race again. As a demonstration of this commitment, I poured gasoline on my running shoes on the lawn of the Homestead, and asked race director John Grobben to ignite my shoes - so that I could never run again.

But things change. Twenty-six years later the shoes came out again (albeit new ones). Was it a midlife crisis? A few extra unwanted pounds? A sense of mortality? Or maybe just an inner sense that we are born to run? Regardless, I started running again and enjoyed it! I wanted to once again run the Wasatch Front 100.

Many things have changed over the last quarter century; the number of runners (who could have imagined the need for a lottery?), the times (anything sub 24 was smokin fast – under 20, no way), the technology (flat Coke with dissolved aspirin was the drink of choice), and perhaps most remarkable, the community and camaraderie among ultra-runners that exists today.

This community and camaraderie has struck me. I know of no other sport where a 48 year ‘rookie’ would be so welcomed, encouraged and embraced. Just 6 months ago I showed up at my first race knowing nobody. Today I consider many of you my best friends. A special thanks to Mandy Hosford who opened the door for me to the Salt Lake ultra community. Jared Campbell who exhibits such graciousness both on and off the course. Erik Storheim who lets me draft him in races. My running buddies Christian Johnson, Greg Norrander, Peter Lindgren and Rich McDonald. And, Ken Jensen who has freely shared his wisdom and knowledge with me (in addition to being the most amazing pacer).

I feel good about my performance this year. I bettered my time by 10 hours, and even managed to place a couple of spots higher. Not bad for an old guy. But more important than the time, and more important than the place is the joy that running brings me. Thanks to all of you who have played a part in bringing me this joy

Taking Strides Against Juvenile Diabetes

I am an addict, and I need your help. My addiction started in 2005 when I ran the Wasatch 100 mile Endurance Run-a 100 mile foot race through the Wasatch Mountains- for the first time. Since then, I have run many other trail races, even attempting (but not finishing) the Wasatch 100 once more in 2007. While I try to justify my behavior by telling myself that I am doing it to stay in shape and to be an example of dedication and hard work to my kids, it’s basically a very selfish pursuit. This year, I have decided it’s time to use my addiction to help a worthwhile cause, and I am teaming up with my good friend Stacey McAllister and the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation to help find a cure for Type 1 diabetes.

There are approximately 24 million Americans with diabetes, about 10% of those are children with type 1. These children courageously live each day with this disease, enduring 6-10 finger pricks a day, and injecting insulin prior to every meal or snack. If blood sugars are not properly managed, these children face serious complications, such as, blindness, kidney failure, heart disease, amputations, and neuropathy. There is no cure - only life support, in the form if insulin. The Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation is funding the research that WILL find a cure for this disease, but we need your help.
On September 11-12, I will attempt to run the Wasatch 100 for the third time. While I have faith that my training and preparations will see me to the finish line this year, I am asking for your support and sponsorship as an additional motivator, and more importantly to help find a cure for Type 1 Diabetes. Please support this very worthy cause! If you don't already know someone with diabetes, chances are, you will sometime during your lifetime. The pledge scale is very simple:-Donate just $1 to show your support in the race to find a cure for Juvenile Diabetes
-Donate an additional $1 if I finish the full 100 miles.-Donate an additional $5 if I complete the 100 miles in under 24 hours (only 8-10 people finish under 24 every year so it's a long shot!) -Donate an additional $5 per every 30 minutes that I finish under 24 hours(i.e. initial $1 + finisher $1 + under 24 hour $5 + 23.5 hour finish time $5 = $12 TOTAL)
To see how much your final pledge will be, you can go to www.wasatch100.com, click on the link that says Results for the 2009 race and enter my name in the Runner Search window. You can follow my progress throughout the run, or check in after the race is over.

OR, if you would rather, you can make a flat donation online by visiting walk.jdrf.org and searching for Erik Storheim in the search field. Please know that any amount you are able to donate will be appreciated! Please don’t hesitate to contact me with any questions at erikstorheim@hotmail.com, and please pass this on to anyone who may be interested in helping out. Thank you in advance for your help in finding a cure for Type 1 Diabetes!

Erik Storheim

Kat'cina Mosa 100K

Way back in 2005, before I was too ignorant to know any better, I decided I'd try my hand at an ultramarathon. I signed up for the Wasatch 100, and as part of my preparation, decided to run the Kat'cina Mosa 100k as my first "official" ultramarathon. I pulled up to the starting line just in time to see the other runners headlamps take off up the road, then took a few wrong turns, and still managed to have a good time and a decent race. What an eye-opener it was! I didn't know anything about nutrition, pacing, hydration and all the myriad little details that now seem so important. I ate Rice Krispie treats and Little Debbie Oatmeal Pies, because they tasted good. I ran hard when I felt like it and slowed down if I felt like it, and I drank as much water and Coke as I could. That was my race day strategy, and I finished and felt pretty good doing it. A month later, still too dumb to know any better, I ran the Wasatch 100 and finished. I feel like running Kat'cina Mosa was a critical part of my training and only successful completion of Wasatch.

Fast forward to this year, and I'm signed up for Wasatch again. In figuring out my preparations for this year, I decided that I'd better put Kat'cina Mosa on the schedule as well. It's a great way to guage my fitness, get in a last big long run, and get some serious heat training. Last of all, Kevin Shilling told me that he had absoultely hated running it, and the only way he'd do it again was if someone broke the course record he set in 2003. If all the training factors weren't enough motivation, then forcing Kevin to run it again definitely was.

One of the lovely aspects of the race is the 3 am start. I'm not exctly sure of the rationale, I'm sure that Bozung has his reasons, but it makes for a short night. I slept in the back of my truck at the start, and with all the other campers, early starters, and late arrivers, didn't get much sleep at all.

Everyone lined up on the road, and John yelled go and off we went, a bunch of headlamps bobbing along the road. I settled into a nice pace, and right there with me was Jay Aldous, who I had run a good portion of the Speedgoat 50K with two weeks prior. Jay is an interesting story. About 25 years ago, at the age of 22 (or around there) he was part of the 4th running of the Wasatch 100. There were 41 starters and 20 finished. He hasn't run a Wasatch since, and this year he's going to give it a try, and using a training plan similar to mine, signed up for the Speedgoat 50K and Kat'cina Mosa. Jay and I started up the long dirt road to Camel Pass and kept an easy pace, stopping a couple times to walk behind the skunks that wanted to run in front of us. We arrived at Camel Pass 7 minutes ahead of my estimated pace chart. (I fed previous splits into this handy split calculator that Christian showed me, to give me a rough idea of where I should be.)

About this time, I decided to share my race strategy with Jay, which was 1)Finish, while keeping in mind that the ultimate goal was the Wasatch 100 in 5 weeks, and 2) Break Shilling's record, while keeping in mind that the ultimate goal was the Wasatch 100 in 5 weeks. Jay stated he'd be happy to run along as long as he could keep up and help slingshot me to a sub 12 hour finish if possible. A couple things I had learned about Jay up to this point is his incredible modesty and that he is a talented runner. I knew rather than him trying to keep up with me, it was likely to be the other way around.

Through the next couple of aid stations, the sun came up, we continued to keep a good pace and stayed within a couple minutes of our estimated splits. What an awesome sight it was to see the sun coming up over Lightning Ridge. We traversed an alpine bowl and got on the ridge just in time to see the sun's first rays hit the peaks around us. I was half tempted to sit down and soak it all in for a few minutes, and if I had found one of Dave Hunt's stashed Red Bull's, I probably would have. Instead, we started the gnarly descent to the Big Springs aid station.

Leaving Big Springs (mile 22), my legs started to feel a little fatigued and I worked on catching up on some nutrition during the long climb up to Windy Pass. Jay and I leap frogged a little during this section, and then I settled in behind him as he got into a steady climbing cadence.

Apparently, we were moving a little quicker than was expected. We arrived at Windy Pass to a pile of empty water jugs and a vacant aid station. I gave a shout and someone came running up from the spring and topped our bottles off from his personal water supply. Thanks!! We both left in good spirits, knowing that the last of the 3 major climbs was over, and that it was all downhill (relatively-we still had around 4000 feet of climbing over 30 miles) from here.

Then....the wheels started to come off. My stomach had been feeling a little weird all day, but nothing too bad. I couldn't quite put a handle on it, and nothing seemed to sort it out, but after leaving Windy Pass and starting the long 7 mile descent to Little Valley, it really started sloshing. I was leading the way at this point and I could feel mysef slowing little by little. Finally, I had to step aside and tell Jay to go for it. There is nothing quite as frustrating as walking downhill, but that's what I was doing. I drank what water I could, popped an endurolyte, and tried to set off on a slow, sloshy jog. Bit by bit, I could feel my stomach feeling a little better. Not great, but better. I finally got into Little Valley, filled up a bottle with ice water, and headed towards the 1.2 mile out and back to see how far ahead Jay was. It turns out he was about 1/4 mile ahead of me and I hoped I could catch up to him on the gradual climb from Little Valley(mile 39) to Bath Tub (mile 45). As I expected after feeling lousy, I was behind my estimated splits by about 15 minutes. But as I hiked along, (eventually spying Jay ahead of me and catching up to him), I tried to do some simple math in my glucose deprived brain and concluded that the pace calculator had been overly generous in the splits for the last 20 miles. I still had plenty of time to run a sub 12 hour race. Then, as we arrived at the Bath Tub station 25 minutes "behind" schedule, I realized that I had misread my split sheet. It was about 1:05, and instead of being 40 minutes behind a 12:25 arrival, we were actually 20 minutes ahead of a 1:25 arrival. Hallelujah!! I immediately sat down with a false sense of security, ate a brownie and some grapes and drank a ginger ale. That would be the last thing my stomach could handle. Jay was itching to go and we left for the final 17 miles with a 15 minute cushion.

To sum up the last 17 miles, one word will suffice. Brutal. It was hot, exposed, super dusty, and I probably tripped and fell more times in two hours than I had all year. To top it off, the only thing that would stay settled in my stomach was Ginger Ale. Luckily, I had the pleasant company of Jay to keep me from getting too grouchy. By now, it had turned into a team effort to get to the finish. Even if either of us had entertained the thought of out-kicking the other down the homestretch, neither of us had the extra Umpphhh to do it. It was all about grinding it out down that brutally hot last 6 miles of pavement. I kept finding excuses to walk, and then with about a mile to go, Jay told me he was cooked and to go ahead witout him. Are you kidding me? No way. I never would have got here this quick without Jay pulling and pushing me along, and we were going to finish together. So I lied to him. I told him that the finish was just down the road at the next big bend. Maybe 2 minutes or so. We kept plodding, it wasn't around the next bend, but much to my surprise, it was around the bend after that!!! We were done.

Crossing in 11:38 and change, we beat the old record by about 18 minutes. What an adventure it was and I couldn't have spent it in better company. Thanks Jay for keeping me in it and good luck at Wasatch! I know you've got a Cheetah in you.

After a couple bottles of ultragen, a dip in the river to cool down and a hamburger, I loaded up, drove home to pick up my kids and spent two glorious days in the Uintah's camping with my brothers and their kids. That's the best post-race recovery anyone could ask for.

Again, huge thanks go to Brooke for putting up with my addiction, thanks to John Bozung for another great race, thanks to Wasatch Running Center for their support and expertise, and a special thanks to Kevin Shilling. I don't know if I would have run this again if he wouldn't have said he'd "never run it again unless someone beats my time". I fully expect you to run it a heck of a lot faster than 11:38 next year.

Wow, that was a long post.

Kat'cina Mosa 100k and Millcreek 50k update

Here's a quick wrap of Friday-Saturday activities, hopefully with full reports to follow.

Starting at 9pm Friday night Peter, Greg and myself joined another 30 or so runners for the 7th annual Millcreek 50k. The pace was pretty quick from the start with a few lead changes through Bowman Fork before I was out in front, although with a tenuous lead. By the time I made it to Desolation Lake I noticed a headlamp getting closer and I was pleased to see it was Greg. We ran from the crest all the way down the Great Western trail together and finished about 15 minutes ahead of Shane Martin's course record from 2 years ago. Our finishing time was 6:43 and following us, rather closely David Hayes, Drew Erickson (winner of Grandeur Fun Run), Mick Jurynec, and Peter Lindgren to round out the top 5 and all go under the previous course record. Full results to follow soon. Thanks to Ken Jensen for putting this great event together.

Just before we finished our night run another group of runners were beginning theirs down in Utah County at the Kat'cina Mosa 100k. All of the information I have came from Erik in a short conversation I had with him afterwards. Apparently Erik and Jay Aldous ran the entire race together and broke Kevin Shilling's long standing course record by a good margin (15 or 20 mins). Other details he shared with me was the heat factor and that Dave Hunt set a PR (watch out in September) while I think coming in 3rd.

Congratulations all around to a great weekend of running in the mountains.

Scotts Peak

Saturday morning I decided to forgo a long run and sleep in. After the Speedgoat 50K last week, I felt pretty blah, and due to repeat sleep in sessions and crazy evenings, I only got out running twice. A great loop up Porter fork and down Bowman's and a lackluster 5 miles on the treadmill while watching Baby Einstein with my kids. I guess my body was telling me to rest, and I was happy to oblige.

Saturday we planned on going for a hike and in thinking of a place to head with the kids, decided to drive up Guardsmans Pass and then hike up Sleepy Hollow and Puke Hill to the Wasatch Crest. In my efforts to get out and run, I find myself forgetting to stop and enjoy all that the mountains and trails of the Wasatch have to offer. With three kids in tow, I was forced to slow down and enjoy it all, and there was so much to enjoy!

I'd never seen so many chipmunks on the trail before, and believe me, we stopped and chased every single one of them. I forgot how many sticks(light sabers and "shooters") a 5 and 2 year old can hold at one time, and how many rocks can fit in a pocket. And heaven forbid that one of the light sabers gets dropped! The flowers were as abundant and bright as ever and the air was cool and fresh. I also re-discovered that when the hill gets steep, saying that running up hills is good Jedi training is much more effective on 5 year olds than saying "we're almost there, just a few more steps", etc. After seeing that Sam was doing his Jedi training, Andrew even asked to get out of the backpack to train-for about 30 seconds.
Once on the crest, we downed a can of Pringles-the best chips ever made- and enjoyed the view. I couldn't help but think of the countless times I'd run through this section of the Crest trail, and all the fun I've had. As I was looking west towards Scotts Peak I thought forward about 6 weeks to the Wasatch 100. It sure would be nice to be able to run this section of the race while it is still light out, and enjoy the sights I saw on Saturday, but what is the chance of that? Not likely. The more realistic thought was, how much suffering will be going on at this point? How many people will be looking forward to the Scotts Peak aid station, or struggling just to make it there? Sometimes the thought of a warm cup of soup and an encouraging word or two is all that is needed to keep putting one foot in front of the other, and can stave off those thoughts of despair that are so prevelant during the night. Will I be suffering? Will that despair have hit me yet? Most likely.

Then I'll only have to think back to the Jedi training put in on a Saturday afternoon, pick up a stick or two and it's off to Brighton.

What a great day it was, and Scotts Peak, I'll see you in 6 weeks.

Hardrock Pictures

The morning that Hardrock ended, Peter and I headed up the Ice Lake trail to Island Lake and Grant Swamp Pass. I thought I would share a little sample of San Juans.

Hardrock the easy way

Heading down to Silverton I always knew it was possible that I wouldn't get in, but definitely thought the odds were in my favor going the other way. After the race check in on Thursday I had moved up from #6 to #2 on the waitlist. Everybody showed up this year, go figure. But wait, there's still one last chance. On race morning everyone is required to sign in between 5 and 5:45am, should two people not show up for some reason (it's happened in the past) then I would be in. Friday morning I woke up and prepared as if I would be running 100 miles in the San Juans. Peter came with me to wait nervously in the gym, several people around us knew the situation I was in and kept their fingers crossed for me. I must have looked at my watch every 30 seconds in those twenty minutes that I sat there. Then at 5:45am the RD stood up on a chair and loudly called out two names, names of runners that had not checked in. I jumped up and tore my jacket off as everyone around me told me "this is it, you're in". Then two "absent-minded" runners remembered they had forgot to check in and no one got off the "list".

I was a little sad, but I had a not-so-bad backup plan, pacing Scott Jaime from Ouray to Tellride. Scott is a very accomplished ultra-runner and an old friend of mine, so I was honored that he would have me along on one of his goal races for the year. Scott ran a tremondous race completing the course in 27:47 putting him in 4th place, his race report covers all the details so I won't bother giving you the blow by blow. Nor will I share the experience I had getting over Virginius Pass, some things you just have to see or do to believe.

What I will say is that the Hardrock is simply unbelievable. The course, the competitors, and the entire support crew make it a truly special event. I'll be back, but I'm not so sure that I'll be going down if I'm still on the waitlist before the race, the mental rollercoaster is just to much. Thanks to my family for being so supportive, to Peter and his family for making the trip so enjoyable and thanks to the rest of the MRC for pushing me through all the training to get ready, that was the best part.

Finally congratulations to Karl Meltzer who set a new course record in 24:38 for the counter-clockwise direction, that was an incredible effort!