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15 2012 Wasatch Front 100 Race Report: Patience and Strategy

Start of Wasatch. Photo by Lori Burlison.

I ran Wasatch as my second 100 miler back in 2004 — 8 long years ago. A lot has passed since the “salad” days. I only had one child back then — now I have 3. I have a lot more responsibility and a lot less free time. I have to get creative with my training to stay at the volume it requires to race and stay competitive at ultramarathons.  It’s tough sometimes and I lose sleep, but I love running in the mountains and I love this sport. I don’t think I could give it up if I had to.

Wasatch 100 is one of the hard ones, the big dogs. There are a lot of other races that get more recent press because of fat-cat cash purses, but Wasatch, in my book (and many other “old school” ultrarunners that have been around before any of the hype) consider Wasatch as one of the pinnacles. It’s been around since 1980 (I believe the 2nd oldest 100 behind the infamous Western States 100). It’s hard, it’s technical, it’s relentless. 26,882′ of climbing and 26,131′ of downhill — 10,000′ of the descent coming in the last 23 miles! It’s brutal…and beautiful. Just my kind of course.

Since my youngest son is still not at the age where he travels well, my wife and I decided I should “dirtbag” this race and drive solo, sleep at my friends Roch and Catherine’s house in Salt Lake City and bust it out. Zip in, run hard, zip home. No pacer — just Roch as my crew at 3 checkpoints, drop bags and go hard. No pampering — just like this race embodies. That was the plan.

I was super busy the week of the race and only averaged 5.5 hours of sleep the entire week leading up. Phew. I was a little worried about that, but had no choice — life, work and family took precedence over training plans and tapers, so I just rolled with it. I took off for SLC from Bend at 9:30pm on Wednesday night, made it to Eastern Oregon and crashed at a pullout in the desert at 2am. I slept 5 hours, got up at 8am on Thursday and drove the remaining 7.5 hours to Salt Lake in time for the pre-race check in at Sugarhouse Park. I dropped my drop bags, weighed-in, and hung out chatting with old friends.

Karl Meltzer, a good buddy, who has won this race multiple times was there to hang out and talk with some folks he was coaching (he was running Run Rabbit Run 100 the following weekend) and would just be spectator this year. We discussed my final strategy for the race. Remembering how hot it was from 35 to 53 and the fact that I ran too hard here in ’04 and paid the piper the last 25 with dead quads, my plan was to go easy through Lambs Canyon aid (at mile 53) by holding back in the heat of the day and not running any downhills hard until Bear Ass Pass (mile 57), then turn it on up Mill Creek Canyon, Dog Lake, and up to Desolation Lake in the 60s and get as far as possible before turning on lights. If possible, getting to Ant Knoll aid at mile 80 by dark, allowing me to run the extremely technical descent off the high point above Brighton Ski Lodge (Point Supreme) in the daylight. Here you plunge 1,450’ in just 1.7 miles on extremely rocky, rutted single track trail. That was the strategy. The key is sticking to the plan in these things and not getting caught up in racing too early or just generally being a numbskull.

Race morning. Little pre-race sarcasm. Thanks Rocho. Photo by Roch Horton.

Thursday night, I went out to dinner with Roch and Catherine at a local Thai joint and then off to bed at 9:30pm. I was up at 3am to have Roch take me to the bus shuttle in downtown SLC. I got to the start and after some usual pre-race stuff, we were off at 5am sharp and running the rolling 5 miles on the Bonneville Shoreline Trail in the pre-dawn darkness. I went out in the lead with two other guys with me. Peter Fain, from Truckee, CA and Adam Lint, from Seattle. We were making small talk and the lower section of the 4,400’ climb to gain the summit of Chinscraper, local George Grygar, joined the group. Soon we were flipping off our headlamps and gaining the ridge line above 9,000’ and cruising along together.

Somewhere before Grobbens Corner I took the lead on some more technical singletrack rollers. I just relaxed and cruised into Frances Peak aid station at mile 18 at 8:18am (4 minutes faster than Jeff Roes’ CR pace). I didn’t feel like I was pushing, but I consciously backed off the pace after that to be safe. A few miles after that aid, George caught up to me and we ran together for a while chatting. He left me on one steep climb and I just settled in to run alone and not push.

Bountiful B Aid Station, mile 24. Photo by Sierra Schneider.

I could see George from time to time on long stretches on the ridge and would time his lead — 3-4 minutes. Not much. I remained calm and just cruised and let the miles slide by through Bountiful B, Sessions and Swallow Rocks aid. I was content to let George lead and knew it was too early to be racing and preferred to be the hunter and not the hunted.

It was starting to warm up when I arrived at Big Mountain aid station at mile 39.4, the first crew stop at 11:59am — 12 minutes off CR pace. Roch was there ready for me. I dropped my empty bottles, weighed in 4 pounds up and walked through the aid station as Roch dowsed me with ice cold water, I chugged a bottle, ate some banana, swapped gel flasks and took off to hit the hottest part of the course, Alexander Ridge.

This section is notoriously the spot where it makes or breaks your race and going too hard through this section can really beat you up. It’s SW facing and exposed and is like a hot pocket on the course. It has a pretty significant hot micro-climate. I went mellow through here, just concentrating on pushing calories, liquid and generally taking care of myself. I really didn’t worry about George’s lead. I wanted to feel good coming into Lambs Canyon. After Alexander Ridge aid, I kept cruising comfortably until finally arriving into Lambs Canyon aid at 53 miles. Rocho was there with an ice cold soaking towel, water to douse me with and a full ice water bottle to drink. I downed water, soaked myself really well and hiked up to the aid station tent to weigh-in at 2:27pm.

I weighed in one pound over and to my surprise found George still in the aid station. He looked a little worked. Noted. I said something to the effect of “hey, man.” At that point, I was still not ready to start racing, I knew we’d be out of the heat soon and just wanted to make sure I ate and drank enough to get myself topped off before leaving Lambs. Rocho and I walked through the aid station swapping out gels, getting my iPod on and letting me wolf down some food. We were still walking under the overpass of I-80 when George came flying by running up the Lambs Canyon Road. I had an inkling to go after him, but took a deep breath and relaxed and reminded myself not to race yet. During this internal conversation, Rocho (the grizzled veteran that he is), echoed my thoughts by saying, “Let him go, Bronco. Not yet. He’s hurting.” I replied, “I know, Roch, still early. I’m chillin’.” Strategy.

Once I got refills situated, I took off up the road (George was already out of sight), and settled in to go easy and let my food digest and all the water absorb I had just enhaled. By the time I hit the trailhead at Lambs Trail a mile and a half up the road, I was feeling pretty darn good. The heat was settling down with the north facing climb up to Bear Ass Pass, so I just settled in transitioning running and hiking up to the top. I got to the top and about halfway down the 1,500’ descent (in 1.8 miles) I came around a switchback and George was 50 meters in front of me. Okay, time to make a move. I took a gel and a Succeed Cap and blew by him. I glanced over my shoulder and he tried to go with  me, but I’d saved my legs and was moving down better than he was and I quickly gapped him. I soon hit Mill Creek Canyon Road and took off up the pavement for the long grind up to Upper Big Water aid at 61.7. I ran 95% of this road with only a few short hike breaks and got in at 4:09pm and was in and out in about a minute and onto the trail before George arrived. Sweet.

As I ran up the climb to Dog Lake I listened for cheering at the aid station below to see how far back he was. I estimated about 3 or 4 minutes. Good, that meant I put about a minute a mile on him on the road. So, I just kept plugging away and was nearing the final push to Dog Lake when I came to the last trail intersection and came to a halt. There was one flag on a big tree on the left and one flag on the ground (obviously pulled and thrown down) in the middle of the intersection. No other flags. Crap. Which way? Think. I couldn’t remember for sure which way. My gut said right, but the flag was on the tree on the left side of the trail before the intersection. So, I headed left up the trail. After about 2-3 minutes of climbing I came to another trail intersection with no flags. Dang, wrong way. I turned on my heels, glanced at my watch, and flew down the trail at 6 minute pace. It took me 1 minute of hauling downhill to get back to the vandalized intersection. I looked back down the trail and saw George in the distance almost up to where I was. Man, all that work for nothing.

I took off uphill running hard to try to get a gap again and, sure enough, saw a couple of flags. Okay, now I’m going the right way. I shook off the detour mentally and concentrated on getting my lead back. I soon hit Dog Lake and started the short descent to Blunder Fork to pick up the climb to Desolation Lake. I was a few hundred meters flying downhill when I came to a screeching halt. Moose, broadside in the trail. Man, can I get a break here?!! He’s right behind me! I assessed the situation. Female. Calf? Don’t see one. I yelled and waved my arms. Nothing. She just stood there chewing and looking at me like “What? You talkin’ to me?” Dog Lake is a high-traffic area and I think this moose was used to seeing people. I kept yelling. Nothing. Two guys on a training run who I’d been leapfrogging with on the climb caught back up to me and I quickly asked for their help. We all started yelling and waving our arms and walking toward her. Me in the back of the pack. She eventually started walking, very slowly, to the left and stopped 10 meters off the trail looking at us — still chewing. Not jumpy AT ALL, unlike the Moose I have encountered in the Bighorns.

Once she moved, I took off, passed the two dudes and flew down the trail trying to get a lead back. I hit the junction and started the climb up to Desolation Lake. About a mile or so before the aid station I had to bail off the trail as I almost got taken out by a downhill mountain biker. All the excitement got me worked up and had to jump off in the bushes for a pit stop. As I was off-trail “admiring the aspens,” George hiked by. Dang. Seriously? Okay, let’s do this.

I got into the aid station less than a minute behind George at 5:30pm. He was still there. I grabbed a 1/4 of a PB&J, two full bottles and bolted out of there with a mouthful and George about 50 meters behind. The course quickly leaves the basin and we started a rugged 800’ climb up to Red Lover’s Ridge at 9,900 feet. I was feeling good here and just pushed the pace on the climb. By the top of the ridge I had increased the gap by at least a minute, so I kept pushing.

I got to Scott’s Tower aid station at mile 70.7 with a 4 minute lead (about a minute a mile faster). I quickly got in and out and headed down the trail and soon the jeep road to the highway that takes you down to Brighton Lodge at 75. I hammered the road and soon Karl came up in his truck and said I had about a 10 minute lead. Good. I was feeling strong. Strategy of holding back early was paying off.

I ran into Brighton with Roch, Catherine and Karl ready outside the lodge with Rocho’s own special chicken soup and my drop bag. I ate, got my Black Diamond lights adjusted, arm warmers, and Patagonia Houdini jacket around my waist and jogged up to the lodge to weigh-in and get out. I didn’t want to waste any daylight. As I was heading out I asked Karl and Roch how long to Point Supreme…it went something like this…

Karl: 48 minutes.
Roch: No, no, 51 minutes. 51 minutes, Bronco.
Me: (in my head) I’m running 48 minutes.

I ran out of Brighton and got hoofin’ it up the 1,660’ climb to the high point of the course at 10,450’. I got up to the high point in exactly 48 minutes. Sorry Roch.

I plunged off the steep, technical downhill at breakneck speed. My goal to get to Ant Knoll aid at 80 miles before dark was panning out. I soon heard some cowbells and was pulling into the aid, 16 minutes from Point Supreme. Giddyup.

After some soup, I flipped on my lights and climbed up to Grunt Pass. At this point, I just kept plugging away in the dark. It was pretty uneventful — besides a face to face with a porcupine right before Pole Line Pass. He puffed out and I had to bushwhack around him. Then, it was the same routine…grunt climbs, rocky and loose downhills…repeat. I soon was climbing out of Pot Bottom and running the ball bearing ATV trail and hitting the pavement to the finish. I crossed the line at Homestead in 19 hrs, 33 minutes for the win. I missed the third fastest time by 2 minutes (Dang that moose). Totally psyched to be the 4th fastest time in 33 years. Now time for some fall rest and relaxation. Giddyup.

Mike LeRoux (Grand Slam Finisher) and I hanging out at finish. Awesome triathlete and now...ultrarunner. Photo by Mike LeRoux.

Thanks
Big shout out to my lovely wife and kids and without their support — I just couldn’t do this. Thanks to the Big Man upstairs for keeping my steps safe. Huge thanks to Rocho and Catherine and their hospitality, crewing expertise and Roch’s course knowledge. He’s a walking encyclopedia. Thanks to Patagonia for the good gear, Ultraspire’s handhelds (love them), Black Diamond lights, First Endurance EFS gel, Rudy Project for the awesome glasses, and FootZone of Bend for everything. And, thanks Bien for throwing down a hard training week at TranRockies 3 weeks out with me…good times, Bandit…Kick Start My Heart!

Gear: Patagonia Cap 1 Jersey and Strider Pro Shorts, Black Diamond Icon headlamps, Rudy Project Zyon glasses, Ultraspire handhelds

The famous gold mountain goat skull trophy. Photo by Sierra Schneider.

0 2004 Wasatch Front 100 Mile Endurance Run

The view from Big Mountain Aid Station at mile 39.4 of the course. Photo by Glenn Tachiyama.

Sean Meissner and I at the start, 4:50am on Saturday. Sean was my pacer the last 47 miles. Photo by Jenny at Montrail.

Big Mountain Aid Station at mile 39.4. The heat is starting to hit. I’m downing a quarter sandwich and some juice (Benjamin “Pigpen” Browning in the foreground playing in the gravel and dirt parking lot). Photo by Jennifer Browning.

Big Mountain Aid Station, talking briefly about how I feel with Eric Sach from Seattle Running Company. Photo by Jennifer Browning.

Benjamin “little bronco billy” Browning preparing to make his way to the next crew stop. Photo by Jennifer Browning.

Lambs Canyon Aid Station at mile 53.1 where I’d just come out of the hottest section of the course where temps topped in the upper 90s. Picked up Sean as a pacer here. Many runners had been throwing up or dealing with nausea (due to the heat) at this station. Photo by Jennifer Browning.

Sean and I coming into Upper Big Water Aid Station at mile 61.6. The heat of the day was finally over. Photo by Glenn Tachiyama.

Upper Big Water was a drop bag site where my Dad and brother Joel helped get our night gear together (switching to a pack and new bottles). They were an excellent crew, and paramount in getting us in and out of key checkpoints quickly. Photo by Glenn Tachiyama.

With our gear situated, we were heading to the aid station table (my Dad following with water bottles) for some quick calories and then back on the trail to climb up to Dog Lake. Photo by Glenn Tachiyama.

Jennifer and Benjamin (sacked out on mommy’s lap) at the post-race dinner. Photo by Jeff Browning.

At the post-race awards after we received our Sub-24 hour belt buckles and they hold a “special” ceremony: The induction into the “Royal Order of the Crimson Cheetah.” Pretty funny stuff. We received Burger King/Spider Man crown as they read a poetic yet humorous speech and made us kneel (ouch!) and get tapped on the shoulder with a wooden staff by a man in a crimson cape. It was quite comical. Photo by Jennifer Browning.

Wasatch Mountains, Utah
September 11-12, 2004

A Little Background
For those who are not familiar with ultra running races, this footrace starts NE of Salt Lake City and runs the Wasatch Range south to Midway, Utah, near Heber City. It consists mainly of very rocky old sheep and single track trail and 4WD and ATV roads (if you can call them roads) with a few highway miles to link it all together point to point for 100 miles. Most of the miles are run at elevations above 8,000 feet and hits the high point at mile 78 at 10,480 feet.

This race is one of the 4 oldest hundreds in the U.S. This year marked the 25th Anniversary of the race and is part of the Grand Slam Series (the Grand Slam is running and finishing the 4 oldest 100 mile races in an 11 week span).

This race is extremely steep and technical, and boasts 26,824 ft. of elevation gain and 26,050 ft. of loss over 100 miles. This year’s finishing rate was 56%. 230 started, 131 finished. The race starts at 5am on Saturday and you must be finished by 5pm on Sunday (36 hours). Normally, the weather can range from 25 degrees to 100 degrees.

However, this year the forecast was for a heat wave to hit Salt Lake City and the Wasatch Range on race weekend. The weather on race day topped out in the upper 90s and only got into the upper 50s at night. So, it made for a challenging afternoon and a perfect night.

The Race
My plan for this race was to attempt to break 24 hours and get the coveted Crimson Cheetah Belt Buckle. I knew it was a hard goal to set for myself, but what good are goals if they are easily attained, right? My race day plan was to go out harder in the cool morning and cruise the middle part of the course when the heat hit, then push hard the last 20 after Catherine’s Pass (the high point of the course). I knew to break 24, I’d have to stay on my hydration and nutrition and never get so behind I couldn’t compensate quickly to turn it around. The race start was in the upper 60s and clear with a slight breeze.

We headed out at 5am with headlamps. I started out in the upper quarter of the pack. The plan was to work my way up into the top 20 in the first 5 miles before the first major climb (4,000 feet in 5 miles). This proved to be an easy task, as the trail was wide and well traveled and easy to pass in the dark. After chatting with Montrail teammate Krissy Sybrowsky briefly (the eventual women’s winner) and a quick “hi” to her husband Brandon, I worked my way up further.

I settled into the first climb behind several guys who seemed to be going at the pace that I was comfortable and we all settled into the power hike pace for the next 4,000 feet. It started to get light a bit at 6:30am and by 6:45, my headlamp was stashed away and we were nearing the first natural spring before Chinscrapper, a gnarly steep section of the climb through a rocky scree-filled bowl to gain a 9,000 foot ridge. The spring was barely putting out any water. I filled one of my bottles about halfway and decided to get moving due to the slow process of it.

Once I gained the ridge, it rolls for a while and I was able to do some running and power hiking transitions. I came upon the second natural spring (which we were told at the pre-race meeting on Friday was dry) and it was gushing water. I quickly filled both my 28 oz. bottles and got moving again.

I cruised along and into the first aid station at 13 miles, filled my bottles and continued to the next aid (Francis Peak) at mile 18.7 and the first spot I would see crew. My brother Joel and my friend Sean Meissner, who is a training partner and another Montrail runner who would be pacing me from mile 53 to the finish, were ready and waiting with my stuff. I made it into Francis Peak at 8:49am (11 minutes ahead of my pace chart). Sean and Joel shuffled me through, and after some green machine juice and a banana, gel refills, and my MP3 player and 3 minutes burned, I was off.

The next section was mainly a dirt 4WD road for a few miles before it starts hitting some steep up and downs on single track. I settled into pushing the ups hard and running relaxed and quick on the downs while jamming to some bluegrass on my MP3. The next few remote aid stations passed quickly and it was starting to get hot as I made my way to Big Mountain Pass aid stations (the next crew stop) at mile 39.4.

This station is cool, because you can see it for a few miles out as you descend on it. There are a lot of people yelling and ringing cow bells. It has a sweet single track descent the last few miles. As you switchback through some scrub oaks, your crew can get glimpses of you coming in. The whole scene got me pumped up and I hauled on the descent into the aid station to my first weigh-in checkpoint at 1:02pm. I was 155 pounds, 3 pounds heavier than pre-race weigh-in. Excellent. I was staying on my hydration and food intake, important, because it was really starting to get hot.

Sean ushered me over to my stuff and family: Mom and Dad, Joel and my wife, Jennifer and son, Benjamin…who I might add, looked like Pigpen from Charlie Brown. He’d been playing in the dirt. Nice, that’s my boy!

Sean and Joel refilled my waste pack with Gu and Succeed (electrolyte pills) and ditched my MP3 player (was very sick of it by now because I’d listened to every song on it 3 times…I need a bigger memory chip). I downed a mango juice and a quarter of an avocado/cheese/butter/sourdough sandwich. I walked through the station while eating and drinking and got moving again.

As I left Big Mountain, I really started to feel the heat hitting, so, I stuck to my game plan and went easy. My right knee was really starting to bother me too (little bout of runner’s knee the last 3 weeks). I took 600mg of ibuprofen, put on my knee strap and ignored the pain. Got passed by quite a few runners in the 8-mile section to Alexander Ridge aid station. I knew I was going to be cutting it close on having enough water. The heat was kicking hard. The ridge is exposed and SW facing and the sun is just beating on you in the afternoon. I had 56 oz. of water and ran out about 15 minutes from the aid station.

However, others were running out sooner and I started to reel some of the runners in who had passed me. I got to Alexander Ridge aid station at 2:56pm (right on my pace). I was bonking just a bit from running out of water. So, I stayed an extra minute to down 3 glasses of Poweraid and a banana and melon. Drank another glass of water, dumped one on myself, put ice in my hat and took off again. I had run the next section in training, when I came out with Rod Bien for Outdoor Retailer a few weeks earlier. So, I was happy to know what was coming.

The large amount of liquid I consumed was starting to kick back in and I felt hydrated and started feeling good. Since I sweat A LOT, I had been taking up to 2-3 Succeed pills an hour through the hot part of the afternoon, so my salt intake was fine.

NOTE on Succeed/Salt and calories: This season I really started to listen to my body by my nausea. If I felt any nausea, I would immediately pop a Succeed tab. It always went away after a salt tab. So, I took that as a sign my body needed salt. Sometimes I would take a gel packet and a salt tab together at the hint of nausea. This is what I did throughout this race and I never really felt too much nausea (and never threw up either). I also never went more than 25 minutes without some sort of calorie intake, whether gel (Gu) or aid station food (depending on where I was on the course).

I pushed it down into Lambs Canyon aid station (mile 53.1) and came up out of the creek bed and scrub oaks (right before the gravel road climb up to the aid station) to see Jennifer standing there.

Oh, she was like a shimmering oasis.

She was holding a bottle of water, but quickly informed me I could not drink it, only dump it on myself. Cool with me, I dumped it all over my head, torso, and legs. I swear I heard a sizzling sound! It was SO hot. As we hiked up to the station, she said I looked good and continued to tell me that I was one of the only ones who looked okay and that I was in the top 10.

She said everyone else was coming up hammered from the heat. As I topped the gravel climb, I gave a “YEE-HAWWW!” only to hear my brother Joel echo his signature Crewmaster J hillbilly yell…sweet. He crewed for me at White River 50 Miler in July too and we always yell in and out of stations where we see each other. Gets me pumped up. Nice to have some country boy yelling going on, reminds me of my Missouri roots. Gotta let Bronco Billy out for some roustin’ occasionally.

I arrived into the aid station at 4:09 (9 minutes slow on my pace chart). This was another weigh-in check point, my weight was 150 (2 pounds light). Not too bad considering the last 14 miles were an inferno. I downed a bunch of liquid, ice in the hat, banana, grapes, melon, and left with Sean as my pacer.

Sean and I transitioned between running and hiking up the paved road the few miles to the single track that takes us over Bear Ass Pass (1500 feet in 2 miles). We were now in the trees and this was great. I knew the bad heat was over. I had also trained this section and knew the climb and descent off the backside of the pass into Mill Creek Canyon. Sean and I pushed the pace up Bear Ass Pass and I let it loose a little on the descent. We picked a guy off on the descent and hit the road on the uphill to Upper Big Water aid station and picked off another.

With some more country boy yelling, we met my brother and Dad at Upper Big Water at mile 61.6 at 6:25pm (still 10 minutes slow on my pace). They had my drop bag out and my stuff ready. To get ready for night running, I switched to my Ultimate Wasp pack to carry gear and layers and ditched my waste pack. I still carried two handheld bottles instead of a water bladder because I find it easier to monitor my water intake by the hour with bottles. I get too lazy on hydration sipping on a bladder.

After some soup and Poweraid, we headed out on the climb to Dog Lake. This section is a wide single track trail with lots of runnable sections. We settled into hiking and running transitions up to Dog Lake. Next, the short descent after the lake, then the climb up to Desolation Lake. This climb was tough for me. I was bonking a little and going pretty slow. We got passed by someone on the climb. Oh well, still early. Race doesn’t start until after Brighton. Anyway, I was in a bit of a funk at this point. We got into Lake Desolation aid station at mile 66.9 at 7:55pm (30 minutes slow).

However, this was the best station. It was starting to get dark. So, while I ate and drank, the aid station staff got my lights, gloves out of my pack, and massaged my quads. We headed out and started the climb up to the 9,000+ foot ridge above. I started feeling better and came out of the funk once we gained the ridge. Low on calories, I suspect. This section runs at over 9,000 feet of nice rolling single track. I was feeling good again, and pushed it a bit.

We came into Scotts Peak aid station only 6 minutes slow on my pace goal. Nice. We now had a long fire road then highway descent into Brighton ski lodge. We settled into a nice efficient pace and spoke briefly about strategy for the remainder. I told Sean I thought it best if we didn’t “push” up Catherine’s Pass climb due to the high elevation and save my legs for all the downhills and smaller climbs in the last 22 miles after the pass. He agreed and we soon arrived into Brighton (mile 75.6) at 9:52pm.

Another weigh-in, weight 151. Good. Ate soup and drank Poweraid while my Dad massaged my quads. Headed out of Brighton and started the climb to Catherine’s Pass. Right at the beginning, Sean and I were following another runner and his pacer up a gravel road with are heads down and I looked up to realize that I thought we’d passed the trail. They said, “No, it’s this way.” However, I’d run it in training and was 95% sure we were wrong. I asked Sean to run down the hill to check. Sure enough, my memory served me correctly. We only wasted a few minutes. We quickly dropped those guys and continued up. Just below Lake Mary, we passed another runner and his pacer (he was sitting on a rock looking hammered). We continued up and got to the top at 10,480 feet with that runner right behind us (funny how getting passed makes you get a burst of energy). We quickly dropped off the other side into the steep singletrack descent and dropped them.

The remainder of the course is mainly downhill from Catherine’s Pass at mile 78. So besides 3 small climbs of 600, 800, and 800 feet respectively and a dozen smaller grunt climbs, the last 22 miles descends from 10,400 feet to 5700 feet. BAM! Come on quads, buck up! Lord, give me focus and strength (yes, praying is a good thing in such times.)

My quads (and right knee) were really hammered at this point, but I just kept pushing it and massaging them for about a minute at each aid station. Sean was leading the way and I was trying to stay on his heels. At midnight, Sean and I shouted a “happy birthday, Jenn!” Jennifer’s birthday was Sunday. (Yes, she’s an angel to let me do this on her birthday, I owe her BIGTIME. She’s getting presents for weeks to come.)

So, we quickly came through Pole Line Pass aid station at 83.3 and Rock Springs at 87.3 hitting my splits perfectly. As we left Rock Springs, I told Sean I wanted to put some in the bank on the 5.8 mile section to Pot Bottom (the final aid station). My original goal was to get there no later than 3:25am. I wanted to be there sooner, if possible.

As we left Rock Springs, Sean mentioned that all we had left was less than a half marathon, that we were under 13 miles to go. Sweet. He pushed the pace and I just concentrated on breathing and not falling. Right in the middle of “The Plunge” section (400 foot rocky, loose single track descent in a quarter mile), Sean says, “Use the hill, bitch.” I know it sounds terrible, but I started busting up laughing, as that is an old joke Jennifer and I use to use on each other when we were running down hills together to remind us to lean forward and use gravity. She had told Sean about it and he had saved it for the right time…perfect! In the words of my brother, Joel (and my 2-year old son, Benjamin), “Roll, homey!”

We arrived at Pot Bottom aid station at mile 93.1 at 3:06am. We asked how far in front of us the next runner was, they said “15 minutes,” no chance to catch them. So, I told Sean good work, downed some food and a coke and we left Pot Bottom at 3:08am with 6.9 miles to go. I was really smelling the barn now. Let’s get this thing over with.

From Pot Bottom, we had an 800 foot 4WD road climb in a little less than two miles. We humped up the road with a few sections of running and topped out quicker than I thought we would. Sean asked if this was the downhill and at first I said “no, couldn’t be,” but I’d run it in training and realized I didn’t recognize it in the dark.

I was excited now, I knew we had sub-24. I forgot my recently popped blister on my toe, sore quads, sore knee, sore IT band, everything. Sean stepped aside and let me lead and I let it go on the final 4 mile, 2500 foot descent on a rock-strewn ATV and single track trail. We popped out onto the paved road, 1 mile from the finish and Sean caught back up to me. He ran in front of me and said “Come, on, push it!” I was pushing, but couldn’t hang with him. So, I said, “Dude, I’m red-lining! My legs won’t turnover any faster!” We laughed and then looked ahead and saw another runner and pacer. Sean was saying let’s catch them and I thought, no way that’s another runner. But, they saw us and picked it up.

Sure enough, it turned out to be the runner just ahead of us in 5th place that had 15 minutes on us at Pot Bottom, he finished 76 seconds in front of me. Dang, if I’d known they were that close, I would have run the whole last hill. No way to know though. So, I continued into the lawn area and the last 100 yards to the finish at Homestead Resort. My official time was 23:32:09. Good enough for a 6th place finish. Only seven people made it under the 24 hour mark this year.

Sidenote: Krissy Sybrowsky came in 7th (17 minutes behind me) and became only the fifth woman in the history of the race to break 24 hours. She’s superfly tough. She ran the fastest split from the last aid station at Pot Bottom to the finish!

The race was awesome! Dave Terry, another Oregon runner, told me before the race that the one thing he’d learned after 6 finishes (this year was his 7th), was “respect the course.” Dave, that’s an understatement, dude. I’m so pumped to break 24 hours. It was SO hard and SO technical. My body is more thrashed than it’s ever been. It’s very humbling.

The entry into the Royal Order of the Crimson Cheetah is quite a comical ceremony. Fun stuff. The belt buckle is actually pretty cool. Happy to be done and recovering. Now I just have to get ready for 24 hours of Moab on my mountain bike in October. I’m on a 4-man team. No tough training for that, just fun.

Huge thanks to my family and crew, Montrail for the sweet shoes (Leona Divides rocked the house), all the gear from Footzone in Bend (Teague and the gang). I especially could not have done this without the prayer and support of my family: Jennifer, Benjamin, Mom and Dad and Crewmaster J (Joel) and my pacer, Sean. Sean did an awesome job pushing me to a great finish. He was excellent. Not much talking, all business (the way I like it). Kept me on my splits. I also have to give props to the Big Man Upstairs for the strength and focus to finish strong.

Peace and love,
Jeff