Keeping myself sane!!!

Melissa, her father and I had left Harrisburg 12 minutes until 9:00 and I was anxious to not be late.  The drive took us around 10 minutes!  I arrived at the start area as the National Anthem signaled the race was almost at hand.  A countdown then came over a loud speaker of one minute until race time.  It couldn’t have been much closer!

I scoped out the field at the front of the pack.  I could see a half dozen high school cross country runners on their marks.  I knew they would run close times together while feeding off each other’s youthful energy. I sometimes wonder the runner I would have become if I had started in my teens. 

The course had several changes from the last two years, which consisted of: a new start location, a loop through a neighborhood near the old start, a reroute just after a slot canyon where we ran on a foot bridge parallel to a river, and some various street changes.  The finish area remained the same from last year.  I’m not really sure if the changes made much difference on overall finishing times.  The first mile however, was on an incline, so it made me feel sluggish on the warmup.

 My primary goal for the race was to better my time from last year of 1:27:27, which was 3:22 slower than 2013.  I hoped to average 6:30 per mile or better.  The question was how I had prepared and if the unexpected course changes would be in my favor or not.

Overall, I felt good through the race, and I put in a few strong miles.  I ran in clusters of other runners at times, and had a couple opportunities to surge and overtake some of them.  My mental state was much better than last year, as I had felt a lack of drive and motivation.  I came away with a second place age group award, which was a pleasant surprise.

I enjoyed running in this race for the third time.  The last race I ran was in October, and this was an opportunity to test my fitness.  I’ve been consistent with my mileage throughout fall and into winter, at around 40 miles per week.   It’s not relatively high by any means, but I’ve found that consistency is important for me.

My Garmin splits were:

1. 6:33

2. 6:31

3. 6:26

4. 6:14

5. 6:12

6. 6:32

7. 6:02

8. 6:25

9. 6:41

10. 6:50

11. 6:37

12. 6:56

13. 6:23

Last .12, :46 (6:32/mi.)

My purpose for doing this race was just for the sake of putting in some time on my feet that I don’t normally get with all the road running I do.  A majority of my running is on pavement, and for no more than 3-3.5 hours at a time.  It was also an opportunity to work through the adversity of conditions that trails have to offer.

I’ve completed this event a couple times in the past, so I knew the course and pretty much had no surprises.  In contrast to road races, I didn’t push my pace and just loped along until the miles were through.  I’m still really new to ultra distances, and don’t have a solid feel for my endurance at that level.  I suppose I play things safe when I could have the potential for better finishing times.  My mindset has been to feel better on my feet for a longer time, than to grind it out and risk feeling terrible along the way.

All in all, I am fine with how things went, even though my time was the slowest of my finishes.  I attribute it to a very relaxed attitude.  I had no competitive spirit, and just enjoyed my time out on the island.

I am content with the result of running this race.  Most of the course has been changed, and is more challenging than before.  My time was probably on par with 2013’s, given all the modifications. 

My participation was for the sake of something to strive for, and to use as a measurement of my current fitness.  This was my first marathon in six months, so it showed me the results of my training through the fall and winter. 

I enjoyed the race, with the exception of a disgruntled bystander/protestor just prior to mile 15.  I was greeted by his booing and shouting out “You’re an annoyance.  Get off the road!”  I thought he was joking at first, but then quickly realized he was serious.  My response was the middle finger as I ran by.  I had many thoughts pass through of what I could have responded back with, but in the end, it wasn’t worth my breath.

I definitely faded in the last 10k, which may have been due to my pacing in the first 5 miles.  I was a tad too aggressive.

My splits were:

1^st half:  1:32:35  2^nd half: 1:40:25

1.  6:38                                  14. 7:19

2. 7:03                                   15. 7:35

3. 6:34                                   16. 7:07

4. 6:35                                   17. 6:57

5. 6:44                                   18. 6:58

6. 7:09                                   19. 7:31

7. 6:54                                   20. 7:53

8. 7:14                                   21. 7:39

9. 6:54                                   22. 7:28

10. 7:35                                 23. 7:57

11. 7:01                                 24. 7:41

12. 7:16                                 25. 8:02

13. 7:16                                 26. 8:16

     27. 8:07 (3:50, Read .47/mi.)

I rode a UTA Trax to meet up with a friend Layne Koldewyn, who had just flown in from a Las Vegas business trip.  We headed straight to the Dee Events Center for packet pick up.  After meandering around the expo for a while, we went to Noodles and Co. to top off our carb stores.  His parents live in North Ogden, so we took advantage of their place to rest for the night.  This was the first time in my history of participating in the marathon that Melissa stayed back at home, rather than coming up with me and spending the night in less than desirable Ogden area Motel.  She would have some friends over at our house to socialize with, and could avoid waiting for me in the rain I would be running in.

Layne and I headed out in the morning to get parked and to take a last minute restroom break in the Ben Lomond Hotel before boarding a bus to the start.  Our goal was to be on one of the last to leave, so we would have less time waiting at the start.  In the process, we lucked out and were able to step aboard one of the nicer charter busses.   The ride went quickly as we chatted all the way up amongst ourselves and with a couple other runners seated ahead of us. 

While at the start, the conditions felt great for a race.  It was slightly cool, and there was some minor precipitation in the final moments.  I really enjoy running in rainy weather, as I had done so the weekend before.  The forecast called for greater chances of rain as race day approached.  I was prepared with clothing to keep warm at the start, as well as a beanie to keep rain from pounding down on my head, and some gloves to keep my hands warm.

After dropping our bags in a Penske truck, The National Anthem was sung, and the countdown commenced.  Off we went.  Within the first mile, a runner name Rob Smith pulled up by my side, and acknowledged me.  He was a participant in the Wasatch Running Center Grand Slam of 2013, and I became acquainted with him as we competed in the standings.  He ultimately placed second overall, and I came in third.  It was a friendly rivalry.    We latched on to a mutual pace, and conversed all the way to the half as the rain gradually intensified.   The miles seemed to go by quickly.  At this point, I had to make a short pit stop, and Rob peeled off ahead. 

From the half until mile 17, I tried to buckle down and run by feel.  It seems that these miles have wiped me out in the past if not run conservatively, and leave me spent as I drop out of the canyon, and then for the final 5k.  The rain was refreshing, and kept me cool.  I had to remove my beanie and gloves a couple times to wring them out.   My socks were also totally water logged, but they didn’t bother me. As I dropped down from the Pineview Reservoir Dam, I could tell that my legs still had some kick to them, and my overall goal pace of 7:00-7:15/mi. could still be maintained.  This allowed me to really enjoy the beauty of the Ogden Canyon as I headed down the greatest drop of the course.   

The last 3 miles have been a challenge in the past as I have struggled to maintain pace.   This year I felt consistent and relatively strong.  I saw Rob around mile 24, which surprised me as I didn’t expect to catch him.  His calf was cramping up and had really shut him down.  He shouted for me to “Go for it” as I ran by.   The last couple miles went as well as I would’ve hoped for, as I felt sore but not fully spent.

Once I cleared the finish line arch, my legs went into total shut down.  My calves tightened up and were brutally sore.  I made my way to the far end of the barriers, across the grass, and over to the drop bag retrieval.  It was far more brutal than the last few miles I had covered!  Upon grabbing my bag, I heard someone asking if anyone wanted a massage.  My legs were really killing me at this point, so without hesitation, I hobbled right over.  The last one I had received was at the finish of the Layton Marathon in 2010, so I had forgotten how rough they can be on already aggravated muscles and connective tissues!  Damn, it really hurt! I had to clamp down tightly with my mouth shut to keep quiet as the masseuse kneaded out the knots and accumulated lactic acid.  My body cooled down since I was no longer running and I laid there in drenched clothing.  I had to work on keeping my shivering under control so they could attend to me.

The massage was without doubt, completely worthwhile.  I was not fully restored of course, but I could make my way back over to the finish line without full agony.  It timed out perfectly, as Layne had just come across and I was able to meet up with him to see how his race went.  He was only slightly disappointed that his time was a little slower than he thought he was capable of.   The cool air and rain had left his hands numb and unable to function when trying to grab water and his Hammer Gels at the aid stations.   He felt this slowed him down by at least 10 minutes.  

I came away feeling ok with my performance for the day.   I had told Layne that my goal was for somewhere between a 3:05-3:10 finish.  My performance of 3:13 at the SLC Marathon a month before was a good indicator of this time goal.

After the race, Layne and I headed back towards Salt Lake for a bite to eat at Pei Wei.  It was great to chat about our race experiences while eating some warm food after being in the rain for a few hours.

My splits were:

1st Half: 1:31:54 2nd Half: 1:34:26

1.  6:57                  14. 7:26

2. 6:58                   15. 7:31

3. 6:49                   16. 7:11

4. 6:39                   17. 7:06

5. 6:44                   18. 7:13

6. 6:53                   19. 7:05

7. 6:51                   20. 7:21

8. 7:09                   21. 7:08

9. 7:06                   22. 7:03

10. 7:01                 23. 7:03

11. 7:13                 24. 7:15

12. 6:54                 25. 7:15

13. 6:59                 26. 7:19

                .30, 2:13 (7:18/mi.)

I climbed out of bed at 2:30 a.m., so I could get ready and leave the house by 3:00.  The drive would take about 45 minutes to get to Provo so I could board a bus to the start.  After all the races I’ve done, I still get anxious with the logistics until I’m actually seated on a bus.  Then I can relax during the ride.

A runner named Hattie Hutchings sat next to me, who was set to run her 18^th marathon.  It turned out that she is a speedy runner, having done a top ten finish at the St. George Marathon last year.  This race would yield her an age group win, and a 6^th place overall women’s finish.  Coincidentally, she finished just 13 seconds ahead of me today.  Chatting with her helped the ride to the start pass by quickly.

The wait at the start was about an hour and a half.  I laid around a bit, and it gave me a chance to visit the outhouses a couple times. As race time approached, I became a little concerned about having some G.I. distress during the run.  My stomach felt a little heavy.  Fortunately though, it never became an issue. 

My plan of attack for the race was to charge the downhill’s, and slowly tackle the climbs.  Basically, I went by feel, and as much of an even effort as possible.  I figured a time of 3:05-3:10 would be within reach based on my Salt Lake and Ogden marathon times.

The weather conditions played out favorably; as it was a little cool at the start, but not too hot at the finish.  There were some occasional tailwinds and I appreciated one of those times being as I made one of the rolling climbs mid race.

As I mentioned earlier, I didn’t have G.I. distress, but I did have to stop a couple times to ‘drain the tank.’ At the half, I noticed that it came out dark red.  That’s not usually a good sign!  I felt fine, but thought back to drinking a can of beet juice last night.  There were free samples at the expo, so I tried one.  Could the natural dyes be the cause, or was I passing blood?!  I quickly decided to press onward, and would just monitor if I started to feel ‘off.’

Nothing too monumental occurred for the remainder of the race, but sometimes that’s a good thing.  I stuck with my even effort plan, with an exception to the last 5k, as I watched the time and tried to come in just under 3:05.  I figured it would be close, but I knew it wouldn’t be a big deal if I didn’t make it.  Looking back on my splits for those miles, I see that the perceived effort was off and I must have begun to fade.  

I didn’t have Melissa cheering me at the finish this time, as she went on a short vacation to Montana to visit her grandmother.  A good friend I run with, Stefan Wells, stopped by on his way to work to see me through.  Sometimes I linger at the finish just trying to recover and feel good enough to make the drive home.  Fortunately, today I felt good enough to head on out. We grabbed a ‘Boston Qualifier’ shirt, my drop bag, and headed to our cars. 

My splits were:

1^st half: 1:31:52, 2^nd half: 1:33:27

1.  6:34                  14. 7:38

2. 6:41                   15. 6:45

3. 6:38                   16. 7:04

4. 6:42                   17. 6:57

5. 6:36                   18. 6:53

6. 7:20                   19. 6:49

7. 6:49                   20. 7:02

8. 7:19                   21. 6:58

9. 7:18                   22. 7:10

10. 6:53                 23. 7:14

11. 6:56                 24. 7:40

12. 7:09                 25. 7:16

13. 6:56                 26. 7:26

            .37, 2:38 (7:13/mi.)

I consider this one of my core marathons.  I like to try new ones whenever I get a chance, but the Deseret News Marathon is one of my favorite Utah marathons.  Running down East and Emigration Canyons are highlights for me.  Combining with it being the oldest continuously hosted marathon in Utah, (Since 1970) and a marathon my father completed in 1995.

I rode on the bus with Layne Koldewyn to the start at the top of ‘Big Mountain.’  We chatted on the way up, and just milled around until the 5:30 a.m. start time. He has run the race a few times before, but it is certainly not one of his favorites.  I believe he decided to do it as just an opportunity for a good workout in leading up to the key race for him, the Wasatch 100 in a month and a half.

I felt good throughout the race, but a little off in leg speed.  The conditions were good with temperature and air flow, but I didn’t quite have the pacing in me I would have preferred.  Perhaps, the trail running I have been doing was a contributing factor.  That is a much different kind of running.  Maybe the lack of a quality distance run in a month since the Utah Valley Marathon played in to it.  Or yet, returning from Montana the day before, and getting acclimated with being home, was associated with it.  I will never know.  I had a streak of a few years in completing the race around 3:10 and then a 3:04.  Last year, my time was 3:15:28, and this year was 3:15:36.  Finish time is only one aspect of the race, and while I am a little puzzled with the slow down, I cannot let it destroy my enjoyment of being part of it. I will be back for more!

My Garmin splits were:

1. 6:28                                   14. 7:03

2. 6:35                                   15. 6:54

3. 6:36                                   16. 7:19

4. 6:49                                   17. 7:06

5. 7:02                                   18. 7:26

6. 7:10                                   19. 7:24

7. 8:07                                   20. 7:51

8. 7:29                                   21. 8:09

9. 6:47                                   22. 7:44

10. 7:19                                 23. 8:30

11. 6:59                                 24. 8:41

12. 7:23                                 25. 7:57

13. 6:51                                 26. 8:20

27.  4:09 (Read .49, 8:24/mi.)

Now that the Park City Marathon ceases to exist, I needed a distance race in its place for the month of August.  It would only be fitting to do that distance in a trail race, as a precursor to the Wasatch 100 the following month.  My friend Layne Koldewyn had signed up for this race earlier in the year, and encouraged me to take part in it as well.  I procrastinated until a week before to finally commit to running it as well.

Layne’s parents live in north Ogden, and are not far from where the prerace expo took place.  They picked up our race packets for us and let us spend the night before the race at their place.  It really helped for getting as much sleep as possible, without having to drive up extra early or getting a hotel for the night.  We had a 20 minute drive to Liberty, where we caught a bus to the start area.

It turned out to be an incredibly low key event, with less than 200 runners between 3 distances: half marathon, marathon, and 50K. Our distance was a total of only 36 participants.  I really enjoy when races are small.  The trails are less congested and I can pace myself without pressure, especially on single track sections.  The course was enjoyable, with climbs to some ridgelines that offered great views of Ogden and the outlying areas.  On the other side, we could see down into Liberty, Huntsville, Eden, and Pineview Reservoir.

I felt decent throughout the race, other than keeping my heart rate and respiration down while climbing.  The last 5 or so miles were a little bit of a drag as it started to get warm, and the descent off the mountain went on and on.  I walked most of the remaining couple of miles to avoid overheating, as the course meandered its way around the northwest reaches of Pineview Reservoir, and into the little town of Liberty.

I hung out at the finish line, and drank several bottles of Costco brand electrolyte drinks, as well as water and chocolate milk.  They had some wet towels that I used to wring out over my neck and to cool me off.  It was getting hotter, and I was really glad to be done.  Since I rode up with Layne, I was at the mercy of him finishing, before I could take off and get home to a good shower.  He ended up in the same way as I did with the heat in the final miles, and walked a majority of them.  He came in about an hour after me.

I consider it a privilege to participate in the Wasatch 100.  Long before I considered myself a runner, I had heard of this crazy race.  It had the allure of something only non-humans could accomplish.  The thing of story books.  It was fascinating, and beyond far reaching.  This is where the race has its roots for me.  It wasn’t until I had completed 42 marathons, and had been running for 6 solid years, that I had built up the courage (or quite possibly, the stupidity) to put my name in to give it a try.  It would be an opportunity to really put myself to the test of my limitations.   

 I began this year’s race where I left off last year at Lamb’s Canyon.  After pulling out and therefore, failing to reach the finish line, I set forth a determination of redemption.  Sure, I had finished in 2012 and 2013, but I did not want my last experience with the event to be one of non completion.  What I truly learned about my dnf, is that if there are any physical or mental weaknesses, they will be exposed and magnified.  I had worn myself down with some training runs, and had a final indicator of a poor marathon performance two weeks before.

The main scope of my training this year was running road marathons and a few low key runs on mountain trails, spanning no more than 15 miles.   I participated in the Antelope Island Buffalo Run 50 Miler in March and the Skyline 50K in August as a way to dabble a little in ultra distance trail exposure.  I had survived Wasatch before with comparable training, so I felt this is all I needed both physically and mentally.

My good friend, Layne Koldewyn, who had paced me through the last 25 miles of 2013’s race, decided to come back and participate in the full race in 2014. After he finished, he proclaimed that he didn’t enjoy a single minute of it, and would never do it again.  I laughed, and knew he would have a change of heart as the pain subsided and the pride of accomplishment took over.  And not surprisingly so, I found myself riding with him to the start of this year’s race.

We passed some time at the start with making our last preparations as we checked our gear, clothing, nutrition, took a few pictures, and checked ourselves in.  As we lined up, Layne and I looked at one another, shook our heads, and asked each other what the hell we were thinking in taking on such a crazy event!  There was certainly a nervous excitement in the air amongst the runners.

After a countdown, and enthusiastic send off from the race director, John Grobben, we shuffled on to the trail. It’s tight and narrow, and bottle necks in many places.  No one really cares, and it serves as a means to head out slowly and get warmed up.  Layne and I chatted off and on for the first couple of miles.  Mostly just small talk, but it helped in getting going, and to settle in for what the time would bring.  The climbing in the early miles are the most drastic and long lasting of the race.  It is a blessing when daylight draws in, and we crest the mountainside aptly named “Chinscraper.”  I paused at the top and watched Layne climb up.  This would be the last time I would see him during the race.

After a couple more miles of single track trails, our path opened up to a rocky service road.  It gives runners a chance to pass one another, and to really spread out for the first time.  At the half marathon distance, a low key aid station provided some water to top off our bottles and packs.  Very shortly thereafter, we summitted Francis Peak.  I turned my IPod on for the first time, and ran as the road conditions allowed.   I made my way downward to the Francis Peak Maintenance Sheds Aid Station, at mile 18.4. On the way there, I observed a police vehicle on the side of the road, and down a hillside, a red pickup truck had rolled.  I saw no one inside or near it.  An officer on foot was descending to investigate the scene.  I never did find out if someone had died or the nature of the crash.   

I had my first drop bag waiting for me with a couple bottles of Ensure, S-Caps, and some clean socks.  I sparingly ate some of the food they had to offer, watered a bush, and headed out.  I spent only 8 minutes there.  Getting too comfortable at aid stations can really add time to the race.

On the way to the next aid station, Bountiful B, there are some climbs that had really challenged me last year.  I remember breathing hard and feeling drained at what should have been a comfortable pace.  With that in mind, I took it really easy and just put one foot in front of the other.  A group of roughly 8 of us grinded out the ascents together.  I recognized one as Kelly Agnew.  I had never met him, but had read a few of his online blog entries about racing experiences.  I took the opportunity to ask him about the Comrades Ultramarathon he participated in Africa.  It is the world’s oldest ultramarathon, and seems somewhat intriguing to me.  I never know if I’ll have the chance to make it there, but I would do so if the opportunity presented itself.

I arrived at Bountiful B, took in a few bites of food, topped off my bottles, and headed out.  It was an even quicker stop at only 4 minutes.  In the overall mindset of the event, I break down the distance in increments between aid stations.  It really helps to digest it in the smaller pieces.  The next aid station was to be less than 5 miles away.  Sessions Aid Station is where a friend, Todd Galbraith always volunteers.  I had minimal needs to address, but I did take advantage of a Popsicle that was refreshing and tasted great.  After 5 minutes, I was on my way again.

Some more climbing went on, and I felt decent as the mileage progressed.  I found myself with a woman from San Diego with a thick southern accent, (she was not originally from San Diego) strong language, and clearly defined opinions about how ultramarathon organizers should manage their races.  I mostly just listened to her thoughts, and shuffled behind Darrel Phippen, one of the managers of the Sandy Wasatch Running Center.  I felt as though he may have been annoyed at us nipping at his heels for a period of time, and he asked if we wanted to pass.  I caught up with a couple ladies shortly before the next aid station.  They were friendly and we engaged in small talk to pass the time. 

I ran out of water about a mile before the Swallow Rocks Aid Station.  I hate being in that position, but I felt well hydrated and had a collapsible bottle to fill up in addition to the two in my pack.  I consumed some watermelon, boiled potatoes with salt, and finished off a bottle of Ensure.   As I headed out, I grabbed a Popsicle and chomped it down along the trail.

Just out of the aid station, I came across a woman I assume to be in her mid 40’s.  She was not faring well, with dried blood surrounding her nose and she complained of being nauseated.  I felt badly seeing her in a miserable state, but at the same time, I was pleased to be feeling good in my own right.  The miles had been good to me, and I had come prepared to take on the challenge.

The next stretch led me to the Big Mountain Aid Station, where I would see Melissa, my parents, my sister, and my sister-in-law.  It was the second drop bag location and I could make some minor gear changes and grab some nutrition.  I didn’t have a pacer lined up, but in a twist of luck, my friend Larry Scott became available when a runner he was going to pace, dropped from the race.  That meant I would have somebody with me for the remainder of my race.  It was nice having the moral support of everyone, and I felt rejuvenated to continue onward.

Larry and I quickly caught up on conversation with each other and passed the miles.  I was glad to have company.   We passed through exposed sections with descents over loose rocks that threaten to roll the ankles or send participants tumbling to the ground.   I found relief with having that completed, and to reach the next aid station, Alexander Ridge.  We both had a little bit to eat and drink.  I ate some watermelon and drank some Coke.  I went over to race officials in charge of checking runners in and out, and asked if they could look up the status of my friend Layne.  When I saw Melissa at Big Mountain, she told me Layne had called her to ask for our Physician’s phone number to ask him some questions.  He had been passing blood in his urine since early on in the race and was concerned with what he needed to do.  The officials had no information on him, except to say that he had not dropped out of the race, and was last checked in at Big Mountain.

Larry and I left Alexander Ridge after 9 minutes and made our way along a grassy service road. It follows power poles for several miles and heads eastward, which is opposite of the next aid station, Lambs Canyon.  That’s somewhat discouraging to feel like you’re not making progress to the next stop.  Larry began to feel some cramping and nausea shortly after we left Alexander Ridge.  We had to stop every few minutes so he could gather himself.  I gave him some crystallized ginger in hopes it would settle his stomach.  Runners were passing us by at a constant rate.  I was slightly discouraged in losing time and positions, but I was not going to leave my friend there, despite his insisting I do so.

We gradually made our way off the power line road, and onto single track as daylight quickly faded away.   Larry started to feel better, but far from his usual self.  I was glad to finally make some progress and although we had to stop a few more times for Larry to take a breather, we made it into the Lambs Canyon Aid Station.  A couple hours had been lost, and I felt bad for everyone who waited for our arrival. 

In an ultra event of this nature, I am convinced that my race was the work of many to make my finishing a reality.  The support I received throughout the journey really helped alleviate the physical and mental discomfort that comes with it.  I felt renewed and ready to tackle more miles and hours on my feet each time I saw Melissa and my family.  It is enjoyable to have pacers to experience the journey with.

At Lambs Canyon, I changed some clothing to prepare for the night, and had a little bit to eat.  Larry caught a ride with Melissa and my parents back to his car. I was glad for his sake that his journey had come to an end so he could go home and get feeling better.  Dr. Mike Killpack, who is Melissa and my physician, and also a running friend, was my next Pacer.

Mike and I headed out and were together for the next 22 miles.  I really enjoyed the night stretch with him.  Although it is considered the most beautiful section of the course by many, you can’t see a majority of it beyond the beam of one’s headlamp.  We took advantage of the cooler temperatures and made some decent time.  I felt relatively strong and managed to pass many participants. 

We arrived at the Upper Big Water Aid Station in Millcreek Canyon after shuffling up the pavement for about 3 miles.  The time was around 11:30p.m.  I had a drop bag there, but had neglected to pack some Body Glide.  My feet had some hot spots, and I was also experiencing some minor chafing in areas of my compression shorts.  A volunteer provided me with some Vaseline, which ultimately did the trick to reduce the friction.   I downed a cup of chicken noodle soup, and finished off a bottle of Ensure.  After about 21 minutes, we headed back out to the trails.

The mountains were serene and peaceful at night.  I took in with deep breaths, the scents of the forest, and enjoyed the starry sky.  I felt good enough to live in the moment, which is unfortunately, atypical for me.  We climbed, descended, climbed, and descended.  That’s the story of Wasatch!  Our next stop was the Desolation Lake Aid Station, at 66 elapsed miles.  The campfire that many former participants warn of looked inviting.  The lore is that sitting down next to it, can be the beginning of the end of a race as it’s incredibly hard to get going again.   I drank some Coke, ate a few slices of mango, watered a tree, and set out for the climb to Red Lover’s Ridge.  Dr. Mike seemed to be enjoying being a part of the race, and we made some conversation here and there.

The climb was short, and we had some runnable single track trail ahead of us.  That gave way to a dirt service road into the next aid station, called Scott’s Peak.  I enjoyed another cup of chicken noodle soup, some coke, and possibly a GU Roctaine gel.  Nutrition seemed to come easily for me.  Many ultra runners consider it part of the event to vomit at least once.  I have been really fortunate to have forgone that rite of passage!

Beyond Scott’s, the course drops down to a paved roadway for a couple miles.  It is a nice change to run on asphalt after the many miles on trails.  Smooth surfaces do not demand the constant concentration.  The night seemed to pass by rather quickly, and just after 4:00 a.m., Mike and I came upon the Brighton Ski Lodge Aid Station just short of 75 miles. 

Melissa, my sister Heather, sister-in-law Shelley, and next pacer, Stefan Wells were waiting for our arrival.  This ended up being my longest stop throughout the race, at almost a half hour.  I changed my socks, used the restroom and ate a little bit.  I also restocked my pack with a couple bottles of Ensure, S-caps, water, and GU Brew.  I found out that Layne had dropped out of the race.  I felt badly for him, but I could also relate to not making it through. 

The climb out of Brighton to Point Supreme at 10,467 feet was definitely more difficult than I remembered it being in previous years!  It’s a gain of 1,702 feet in 2.71 miles. Stefan was an asset to have with me, as he is one of the most optimistic and supportive persons I’ve ever known.  He really eased my mind and gave me some distraction through some slow miles. 

After the climb to the highest elevation of the race, we had to drop back down almost the full elevation we had just gained coming from Brighton.  The trail is steep, windy, and covered with loose fist-sized rocks.  It was torturous.   At the bottom we had the Ant Knolls Aid Station to reward us.  We arrived in the last moments of predawn darkness.  The volunteers set up what appeared to be a huge metal sphere, covered in army netting and strands of lights.  The entrance had a red carpet laid out for us to walk upon.   It was literally red carpet treatment!  They had lots of breakfast items to choose from, of which Stefan and I enthusiastically partook of.

After 8 minutes, we headed out and climbed once again.  This stretch of climbing has been named “The Grunt,” and it was easy to see why!  Although it was challenging, I would take that over the descent on loose rocks we had just completed.  Daylight was coming upon us, and the sun had started to rise as we made our way to the top.  This was a short stretch of just over 3 miles between aid stations.

Our next stop was at the Pole Line Pass Aid Station.  I had a drop bag waiting with some stuff for my pack, and a change of shirts.  We spent about 12 minutes there getting prepared for more trails ahead.  My feet were in better shape than they have been that late in the race.  I attribute that to using gaiters this time, which kept a lot of dust and loose rocks out of my shoes and socks.  Any means of which friction can be lessened, the better.

I can honestly say I had fun being in the mountains amongst the scenery and with a good friend.  We spent a lot of the time talking and it felt more like an adventure than a tedious long distance journey.  The only moment I had a worry about reaching the finish line occurred along a dirt road just beyond the old Pot Bottom Aid Station location.   I had a sudden pain in the forefoot of my right foot, just behind my toes.  I stopped for a moment, and pondered a solution.  At that point, the only thing I could do was take a 650mg Tylenol.  We then soldiered on.

We made our way along a dirt road, that I was familiar with, as I had ridden an atv there earlier in the summer.  It seemed a short time, and once again we were at an aid station, this one called Staton North.  Stefan took advantage of the cell coverage, and gave a mutual friend a call to announce our location on the course.  It was less than a half marathon to the finish.  I was however, beginning to get anxious to cross the finish line. After 3 minutes, we were on our way again.

There was a short climb, and the road leveled off.  A runner with his pacer was at the top that Stefan quickly engaged in conversation.  The four of us stayed together for a couple miles and exchanged running stories.  They had met each other at Lambs Canyon.  One guy wanted to pace, and the other, a participant out of Illinois, had no pacer.

I mentally and physically shifted gears when I realized that I had roughly ten miles left.  My desire to finish grew stronger, as did my will to impact the length of time I would be into day 2.  Stefan was unable to keep pace, but encouraged me to go for it, and leave him behind.   I ran off the mountain and passed several runners as I went.  I was grateful to be feeling considerably decent. I made my way down into the last aid station, Decker Canyon.  I spent 3 minutes there eating some refreshing watermelon, and topped off my bottles.

It was time to bring the race to close, so I ran when I could and power hiked as necessary.  A gravel trail around the east side of Deer Creek Reservoir seemed to go on and on and on.  It started to get warm, which only fed my motivation to reach the finish line.  After I passed the reservoir, there was a short stretch through some trees and on to pavement.  I made a left turn towards Soldier Hollow and shortly thereafter, my sister and sister-in-law passed by in their car.  They screamed out the windows and raced up to the finish line.  Their timing couldn’t have been any tighter!

As I made a final curve in the road to the finish, Stefan appeared with a mutual friend, to cheer me on.  It turned out that he had taken a ride at the last aid station to make it in time to see me finish.  Melissa, my sister Holly, her family, Heather and Shelley watched me come across the finish.  I enjoyed and appreciated their support and encouragement.  They had all helped me to see through my redemption of not finishing last year.

Melissa brought some food, blankets and a change of clothes for me.  She patiently waited for me to nap on the grass for a couple hours. We then went to the Homestead to get checked in and I showered off the accumulated filth I had from head to toe.  As I washed up, Melissa set out some gifts in recognition of our anniversary.   I felt some guilt for letting the race take center stage rather than the acknowledgement of our years together.

We went back to Soldier Hollow for dinner and the Awards ceremony.  My official time was 30:48:57.  I was happy to finish, but felt really good about being only 8 minutes slower than my best time, even after the time spent with Larry in his ill state.

This was probably the most laid back I have felt going in to a marathon.  My mindset was that I would run the best I could with my current level of conditioning.   I didn’t particularly feel well trained, as my running has been compromised the last couple months with long hours at my new desk job.  My focus from July onward was with the new occupation, and in the realm of running, with gearing up for the Wasatch 100.  I have had few quality runs on the pavement, as my time has been more limited and I shifted my focus to hitting mountain trails.  The question would be if my legs had any road speed in them.

Race day conditions proved to be ideal, with a slight tailwind in the first half and highs in the mid 60’s at the finish line.  I headed out at the start loosely shooting for a 3:05-3:10 finish, as it would be on par with a couple other races I had competed months ago.  Dependent on how I felt, I would adjust accordingly.

In the first few miles, it seemed like a fair amount of runners were flying past me.  It appeared that maybe I had started too close to the front of the pack.  No biggie.  I’m not quick to start, and it takes me a while to get warmed up and in to a rhythm.  By the time I started to enter Veyo, around mile 6, I was chatting with other runners and felt really casual about how the race would play out.

The Veyo hill felt a little more laborious than I remember it in recent years.  I held back and took it easy, with the feedback my body gave me.  There was a runner doing a really weird side to side step all the way up the hill.  I quietly laughed inside and wondered what advantage he thought he was gaining.  It looked really strange.  I should have kept track of his bib number, so as to look up how he finished the race.

The ‘stair steps’ through Dammeron Valley were no more than I expected them to be, and I just steadily put them behind me.  I came in to the half a couple minutes slower than I assumed I would, but was by no means discouraged.  Around mile 14, the 3:05 pace group slipped past me.  I briefly latched on, but let go as the effort felt a little strong.

Nothing spectacular occurred as I made my way past Snow Canyon, and through the occasional rollers, like those at Ledges Parkway, and just beyond.  I checked out my Garmin from time to time to gauge my time and pace.  I was feeling decent, not too tired, but not fantastic either. 

Around mile 20, I could see that I would have to push in order to finish under 3:10.  I was on the fence if I could do it.  I didn’t know if the pace needed was sustainable, but I certainly had the will to dig in and find out.  I spent less time walking through the final aid stations, and employed a sort of tunnel vision aimed at the road ahead.

With a mile left, I finally felt that I was where I wanted to be, and just kind of cruised in to the finish.  My sister Heather, and sister in Law, Shelley were waiting to see my finish, as well as Melissa and my father in-law, Frank.  I was satisfied when I saw the clock approach 3:08 as I crossed the line.  My time was within the 5 minute window I had envisioned at the start.  No real surprise, but no let down either.  It had been a satisfying race, and I had fun completing it for a 9^th consecutive time.

My splits were:

1^st  half: 1:33:45  2^nd half: 1:34:14, Which equaled a :29 second positive split.

Garmin Splits:

1.  7:09                                                                                  14. 7:13

2. 7:11                                                                                   15. 6:43

3. 6:57                                                                                   16. 6:53

4. 6:54                                                                                   17. 6:52

5. 6:53                                                                                   18. 7:12

6. 6:30                                                                                   19. 7:44 Ledges Parkway Hill!

7. 6:31                                                                                   20. 7:17

8. 8:05 Port-o-potty &  Veyo Hill!                                       21. 7:03

9. 7:26                                                                                   22. 7:12

10. 7:15                                                                                 23. 7:34

11. 7:29                                                                                 24. 7:10

12. 7:25                                                                                 25. 7:05

13. 6:57                                                                                 26. 7:18

                                          27. (Read .29 mi. 2:06, 7:15/mi)