Subject: Squaw Peak report Date: Mon, 11 Jun 2001 19:49:52 -0500 From: Wendy Holdaway When I asked the family newsletter police for a weeks extension to file my report after the Squaw Peak 50 mile "fun run" my sister Dani (the editor) told me that I had better at least write a small installment before the run. "There’s cougars, you know, you might die!" I don’t know about the cougars but I definitely felt like dying several times during the race. My partner in this first Ultra attempt was to be my father, Grant Holdaway, oldest finisher at Wasatch. But an accident (hit and run while training) left me solo. I was feeling nervous about running solo, yet excited to be finally putting my year of training to the test. Suddenly, on Thursday, I heard my brother Jeff’s voice (one of the big dogs of ultra running) from the kitchen. Wow, I thought, that speaker phone is really turned up. Upon closer inspection I found a body to go with the voice. I was so touched! He had flown in to race with me on Saturday. Everyone, including the race director knew about it and all had kept the secret. I was blown away. After the requisite three hours of sleep on Friday night we were at the start on Saturday and the mob of people just starting running in the dark. We had flashlights but they weren’t really necessary as the beginning is on an asphalt path and it was starting to get light. Then a sharp left and we’re climbing and climbing and climbing. While the scenery is breathtaking I’m so concentrated on my foot placement that I can’t take the time to notice. At each aid station Jeff runs ahead to fill my bottles and it’s onward and upward. I’m fine as long as we’re moving up, but the long down on very bad gravel roads starts and I hit my first bad patch. There’s an ultra runners quote that says "don’t worry about what hurts now, something else will hurt much worse later". I’m absolutely unable to run the downs. Now this is a problem as the downhills are where the runners make up for lost time. According to Jeff I have lousy foot-eye coordination and quite frankly I’m scared to just let ‘er rip. We slogged on through the growing heat and I couldn’t believe that we weren’t even at the half-way mark. Finally we get to Hobble Creek and my Dad is waiting to cheer us on. By his face I know we’re late and I don’t look so hot. So I grab a bag of food and as Jeff stays behind to fill the bottles I take off, we’re battling the cut-off now. We’re now on a road and though all runners hate the asphalt suddenly I have a smooth surface and I can run. Slowly we start to pass runners and the old competitive Holdaway spirit kicks in. I’m feeling good. We hit an aid station almost back on schedule and I’m feeling great. They give me a wet paper towel to wash 7 hours of grime off my face and hands. They have watermelon, I’m in heaven. I stuff my mouth with Fritos and with my best chipmunk imitation wave thanks and good-bye. It’s a nice dirt road and thank the Lord it’s slightly up- hill. We continue to pick off runners and I’m getting into this ultra experience. We’ve been told that the cut-off at 2:30 has been moved back to 3:00, but even so push a little to make it by 2:30. We arrive at 2:32 but there’s no problem. Finally I have the time to stop and fix my blisters. I have two huge ones but am prepared with tape, pins, blister block and alcohol. We continue with good ultra nutrition, salt and sugar and we’re off. All day we have been playing leap-frog with a very nice lady, Julie, who is a strong runner but now diagnosed with a serious heart problem. She is trying to run with a heart monitor and keep her heart rate below 140. We catch up to her on the ups and she blows past us on the downs. Once again we are running together, it’s obvious that she’s experiencing some distress. Also, after a weather report for heat and sun, it starts to become cloudy and at about 3 PM it starts to rain. Thanks to Dad I have small poncho in my fanny pack but Julie and Jeff have nothing. It’s very cold. Then we hit the "Ridge". It’s 1400 feet straight up! No switchbacks, no nothing, just a scrabble up a mountain. There were various names suggested for this section, including S.O.B. Hill and KillJohn Hill. (John being the race director who devised the course) Thanks to my personal trainer and my bike work on my quads, though I’m not that fast it really doesn’t give me much of a problem. Jeff being the mountain goat that he is goes up running (almost). Julie’s dying and when I get to the top I find Jeff sitting with a girl who is experiencing strange lights in her vision and numbness in her hands. (Lovely sport) We move on to Aid Station #9 and I’m going to report to them that there are people with problems, but see them coming up behind us. And we’re off for the final 10 miles. Piece of cake, I think, but then see that it is all downhill. And not just any downhill, a tiny track just filled with stones. A distance that should have taken 2 hours turns into a 3 1/2 hour slog. We pass the cougar cave where the race director battled one last year, but no luck, no cougars in sight. We have to continue. We are met at the final aid station by Dad and Mom and all of Dani’s family with a great reception. I feel good that this race is almost over then I realize that we have 3 1/2 miles down a paved road to the finish. Thanks to my niece Holly’s cheerleading we meander down and run the last section to the finish. 16 hours 15 minutes, a really pathetic time but a personal best for me seeing as it is the only ultra I had ever run (and I wasn’t even the last one in). And as Jeff pointed out, the good thing about a lousy time is that it is very easy to do better the next time. It was a great experience and I’m very glad that I did it though I wish I had chosen a slightly easier Ultra to for my first one (Squaw Peak is ranked 2nd or 3rd for difficulty among the 50 milers in the states) Another Ultra quote: "This race is so hard I won’t even have to lie about it when I go home." I couldn’t have done it without my family, especially Jeff who flew out to pace, Dad who continued to encourage through-out his own trials, and Dani’s family who cheered us on to victory. Kudos to John as race director and to the great volunteers. Thanks to you all.