Subject: (Very Long) Wasatch on a couple thousand calories From: Thewashman@aol.com Date: Thu, 19 Sep 2002 15:12:44 -0400 This report is almost of Limacheresque proportions but I thought you might enjoy it or even learn something. I had planned to write a report of my Wasatch 100 run and, with all this talk about eating in 100 milers, I knew I had better get it done. Now, maybe I didn't run this on a couple thousand calories, but I'm sure it wasn't many more than that. Most of my 100 milers are positive races but I had a rare negative race at Wasatch. It wasn't because of the course, the markings or the volunteers. It was just a long difficult day. Now I don't like to complain about the aid stations but the fare at Wasatch did leave a lot to be desired. Why can't they all be like the Arkansas Traveler. They have pie, burritos, red beans and rice and lots of real food. Wasatch had Peanut butter (I hate peanut butter) and jelly sandwiches, cookies and candy. I need real food. I need meat on my sandwiches. They did have some food that I could eat and I will get to that in my report. I run with the GAC in MA and four of us from the club were running the race. We brought three crew persons and two pacers. As a result of this, I would basically be with out a crew (which I love to have) and a pacer (which I never like to have anyway). As a result, I had to have drop bags to be sure I would have what I needed. Since I usually pack minimally, I would have only two drop bags. One would be at Lamb's Canyon with a change of shoes (Asics 2070's), my tights, long sleeve shirt and Gore-Tex jacket. When I ran the race in 1999, it got very cold after sunset. I packed another bag for Pole Line Pass with shorts and a t-shirt as it got very warm there in 1999. I went to the pre-race meeting and saw lots of friends. Dot Helling was there to pace fellow Vermonter Zeke Zucker. Michelle Burr was there and looking very recovered from her scare at Vermont. She would crew and pace for Peyton Robinson. Of course, Nick Palazzo was there going for his umpteenth Wasatch finish. There's probably not a sea level flatlander who has finished more Wasatch's than Nick. Fred Reimer was there again, stating that he has hardly run in six months. He seemed well rested to me. I gave Catra a big hug and wished her well. And there was Hans Dieter and Susi. What a pleasure to know those two individuals. The meeting was a bit of a waste as I didn't win anything and they didn't really tell us anything. The only good thing I heard was that there was going to be water at the old start, just before we started up the first big climb. I went back to the motel and had a couple of pepperoni Personal Pan Pizzas and some chicken wings from the Pizza Hut Express next to our motel. With my favorite pre-race meal done, I was ready to get some sleep and get this race started. I woke up after a fairly good sleep and got ready. I knew there would be rain later in the day and packed a trash bag and a 99 cent emergency poncho that I got at Target the day before. I started the race in my sleeveless Coolmax shirt, shorts, my Rocky Racoon babushka (head scarf), a pair of gloves and my Asics Gel Lytes. I knew it might be chilly at the top but would warm up soon enough. In any case, I had my poncho if things got too bad. I ate two Power Bar Harvest bars and drank two 20 ounce bottles of water and a Succeed cap. I took another cap just before we started. The race start is a bit hectic. After a group GAC picture, I looked for Steve and Deb Pero to get their gear to our crew since they would be staying with us after the race. But as I went looking for them, I heard someone doing a count-down and before I knew it the race had started. There is a little double track trail at the start but soon we were on the single track trail. It made little sense to try to get into your own pace and I just rode along with the crowd. I knew we could fill our bottles before we made the climb to Chinscrapper but, rather than have to wait for the crowd that would be gathered there, I carried a third bottle with me, along that first trail section. I finished it by the water station and just left my bottle there. Now it was time to climb. When I ran Wasatch in 1999, I had just come from running Leadville and spending time in Colorado, Wyoming and in Salt Lake City. I knew there was some altitude in this race but figured that it wouldn't bother me until later in the race. Boy, was I wrong. I was making good time on the climb and staying with the people around me when all of a sudden, people started catching and passing me. I'm not a good climber but was beginning to worry. Just before I reached Chinscrapper, my legs began to feel like rubber. I wondered if, maybe, I hadn't recovered from the Vermont 100 but, having run multiple 100 milers many times, I knew that couldn't the case. It had to be the altitude. If I was feeling this weak eight miles into the race, it was going to be a long tough day. I finally climbed Chinscrapper and felt a bit better. The wind began blowing pretty hard and my arms got a bit cold. I wasn't uncomfortable but was chilled. By keeping moving, I was able to fend off the cold. Al Catalano and Ray Mount from the GAC had passed me going up Chinscrapper and Jim "Gilly" Gilford was a bit further behind. I reached Grobben's Corner shortly after running out of water. The three water bottle strategy worked perfectly. I filled one bottle and headed down the dirt road toward the maintenance shed. Steve and Deb Pero caught up to me as I ran along the road and I ran with them for a bit. Steve had to make a pit stop so I continued on ahead with Deb. One thing about Wasatch is that there is very little cover in the first 18 miles. Steve had to pick his spot carefully. Soon he was done and they moved on ahead of me. I arrived at the maintenance shed to find that our crew had made the perilous trip up the road to the aid station. This became a life saver for me. It wasn't warming up like I had expected and I was able to get a long sleeve shirt to take with me. I tied it around my waste and hit the aid station table. I had a couple of potatoes. Since they only had peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, I asked if they could make me one with just jelly. They were quite happy to do so and I had two halves of the sandwich. I grabbed some watermelon and was on my way. I will be mentioning everything I ate so that you can get the idea that you can actually run these things without eating a ton. In fact, I am amazed when I hear about all the food people eat during these races. I walked most of the next section trying to get my legs to recover. One thing that allows me to run 100 milers is that I can recover while still going forward. Soon my legs did feel a bit better and, when Nick Palazzo caught up with me, I was able to run with him for a while. He finally left me on some of those really steep climbs just before the Bountiful "B" aid station. Also, the wind had been coming and going throughout the run but, so far, we hadn't had any rain. As I reached Bountiful "B", it started to drizzle. I put on the long sleeve shirt that I picked up earlier and I started feeling better. The aid station was not well-stock so I just filled my bottles and grabbed a handful of chips and was on my way. I continued to take one Succeed cap every hour and was drinking a couple of water bottles between aid stations. The next section is about the easiest on the course and I tried to make a little time. The road sections can get a bit rough but there are no major climbs. The rain stopped and it was not too chilly. I reached the Sessions Mountain "Lift Off" station after a very steep descent. I had half a turkey sandwich, refilled my bottles, grabbed three fig bars and headed out. After Sessions comes two very steep and slow climbs. Although I am not a very good climber, I always keep moving until I get to the top. This steady forward progress is necessary for me as I am constantly huffing and puffing while I climb. When I finally reached the top of the second climb and into "Sound of Music" land, the wind picked up and the rains began. At this point, I decided to get my emergency poncho out of my fanny pack. It was very flimsy and I had to hold on to it to keep the wind and rain out but it kept me warm and dry. I put the hood up but the only way that it would stay up was if I held on to it; however, this pulled one side down over my right eye. I was basically forced to run and walk along this section with only one eye. Except for a little stumbling on the rocks, I was able to make good forward progress. Just before I reached the Swallow Rocks aid station, the rain and wind were gone. I had looked forward to the Popsicles at this aid station but, because of the cold rain, I just wasn't in the mood. They did say that there were a few takers during the day. I grabbed a half a sandwich and drank a cup of coke. As I moved along in the next section, the winds came back with a vengeance. And with the winds came rain and then hail. I pushed along with my head down, holding my poncho against my body to keep it from being ripped apart. There were a couple of good climbs in here but soon I was headed downhill. I could see the aid station but knew from experience that I wouldn't be there for some time. One of the cruelest things about Wasatch is that they tease you with views of several of the aid stations long before you actually get to them. I pushed hard down the switchbacks until I finally reached the road. I crossed into the Big Mountain aid station to ringing cowbells and loud cheers from the workers and crews waiting there. Since one of our crews were there waiting for Gilly, I took advantage of it. I got a dry long sleeve t-shirt and a dry hat. I put the poncho back on and hit the aid station table. Since my warm clothes were not until Lamb's Canyon, this will have to do. I knew it would get dark before I got to Lamb's but I was as ready as I could be. I ate a tuna sandwich at the table. I have never eaten tuna at a run and was worried about how this might affect me but I needed something other than jelly and they were out of turkey or ham. I grabbed some fruit and was on my way again. The climb out of Big Mountain takes a while and after that it is a constant up and down until you finally reach the Alexander Ridge aid station. I didn't find anything I liked there so I grabbed some M&M's and was on my way. The next section along the power lines was unbearable. The section is usually pretty good but the rain had turned the trail to the worst mud I have ever experienced because it stuck to your shoes like glue and you were forced to carry this growing weight the entire way. And if you tried to wipe it off in the grass, the grass would be added to the load. I was so glad to enter the trees at the end of this section. Eventually I was able to free my shoes of most of the mud. After being teased twice by views of the Lamb's Canyon aid station I was finally on my way to it, but not before there were other perils to overcome. Just before the aid station, they send you down to a beaver dam and the path down to it was mud. The mud was very slippery. It was like walking downhill on ice. I fell twice and went down on my knee two more times before I finally reached the beaver dam. After that I was only a short slog to the aid station. As I entered the aid station, I saw Catra with Robert Tuller. He wasn't running and I asked him why but he said it was a long story and I didn't have the time to listen. I told him that, if I hadn't promised my wife that would do everything I could to finish since I spent so much to come out here, that I would drop right here. My legs were dead, I was tired of the rain and mud and I just wasn't having much fun. Of course he wouldn't hear of me dropping and he was busy convincing Catra to continue as well. In the aid station was Gilly. I found out that he had become nearly hypothermic by Swallow Rocks because he figured that it would warm up and left the maintenance shed without any rain gear. The hard rain and hail ended his bid for a finish. He was nearly recovered by the time I saw him here. This helped me because I now had a crew here and at Brighton. They picked up my drop back and I changed into my tights, polypro long sleeve shirt t-shirt and Gore-Tex jacket. I also had a fresh dry pair of gloves and another pair in the pocket of my jacket. I picked up my big flashlight and was ready to go. I had three bite-sized Nestles Crunch bars and Gilly had gotten me a grilled cheese sandwich. At last, I got some real food. I was warm, dry and ready for the night. I headed up the paved road out of Lamb's with my flashlight off. I only turned it on when a car would pass. I knew it was over a mile to the trailhead. Once I got to the trail, I turned on my light and plodded up the long climb to the top. I t took a while and I was glad to reach the peak. There was a great view of Salt Lake City to my right as I started down the other side. I was still able to make good time downhill and pushed it all the way. I didn't think I would ever reach the paved road to Upper Big Water but, finally, it arrived. I turned off my light and watched the starts above. I only turned it on when a car would approach. There are way too many cars on this three mile section and I was glad to finally reach the aid station. I sat down and had a cup of Ramen noodle soup and a cup of hot chocolate. I had them put an ice cube in each, as they were too hot. I felt refreshed and was ready to go. I tried something at Vermont this year that I thought I would do here as well. I had them fill one bottle with water and the other with Coke. I would sip the Coke like Hammer Gel throughout this next section. I prefer Pepsi because I don't like the taste of Coke. I continued to sip it but the taste soon got to me. The section after Upper Big Water is pretty nice. You climb a long way on some of the few switchbacks on the course. Eventually you drop downhill and make a left-hand turn and head back up again to the Desolation Lake aid station. I took a few sips of hot chocolate and headed back out. The climb continued until I finally reached the rock scramble at the top. It was a little difficult to find the route but, having done the race once, I knew it headed right at some point so I concentrated in that direction. Quickly, I was back on the trail and headed around the mountain. It seemed to take forever to get to the transmission tower aid station. It was another one of those that you saw long before you got there. I took some chips and headed for Brighton. The next section is fairly flat and then you start downhill toward Brighton. Eventually you reach the paved road and have a couple of miles of downhill pavement to the ski lodge. After a few twists and turns, I entered the parking lot of the ski lodge. Gilly, Dick and Fred, form the GAC, greeted me there. They rinsed out my bottle with the Coke and filled both bottles with water. I ate three more bite sized Crunch bars and I cleaned out my fanny pack of everything but my Succeed caps and a trash bag and went into the lodge to check in. After weighing myself, and having not lost any weight, I headed to the food table. They had eggs, which I don't like, and some home fries. I grabbed a large home fry and checked out. I finished the home fry outside and was ready to begin my climb up Brighton. Now comes the time of reckoning. It is exactly one hour later than I arrived here in 1999 and I finished in 34:41 then. I knew I needed to push hard to have any chance of breaking 36 hours. As I start up the trail to Catherine's Pass, I see lightning off in the distance. Then I see lightning and hear thunder very near to me. The rains begin once again, the wind is blowing hard and I am climbing to my doom, to the highest point on the course. The trail has become a stream as I make my way up the climb. I don't stop at any time but I am trudging my way slowly up the hill. I am pushing as fast as I can but I know that I will lose ground on the 36 hours if I can't get it back on the other side. Finally, I reach the summit and, surprisingly, the rain stops. The first part of the downhill is sand and I push trough it as best I can. I throw caution to the wind and start running down the hill toward Ant Knolls. The rocks roll under my feet as I try to find solid footfalls. I decide that the best way to run is to go right down the ruts on the trail. The rocks in the ruts don't move when I step on them. I push hard into Ant Knolls and announce that I am checking in and out. I continue up the trail toward the Grunt. This climb is tough but I push myself all the way to the top at a power walk. I have finally figured out how to synchronize my breathing. When I am going up a steep grade, I breathe in or out on every step. It doesn't sound great but it worked. When I am on a gradual uphill, I breathe on every left step. I caught a runner just before the Grunt and left him behind by the time I got to the top. Once at the top, I pushed hard to Pole Line Pass. I have a drop bag there but tell them that I will not be using it. I stop long enough to drink a cup of water and am off. The next four mile section has become the section from hell. It was all muck and mostly uphill. There was no traction anywhere. I had made up a lot of time on the 36 hours between Brighton and here and was feeling much more comfortable until I got into this crap. I slipped and slogged through this section, trying not to lose any more time than I could possibly lose. I couldn't wait for it to end but it just wouldn't end. Just before the next aid station, I figured out how to get through the mud. If I stomp my foot down with each step, I cam make enough suction to keep my feet from slipping too badly. This got me though the last uphill and I finally reached the Rock Springs aid lean-to. Ray Mount, from the GAC, was at the aid station. I ran through non-stop, yelling that I was checking in and out. I yelled to Ray to get moving as time was running out. The next section is hard to describe. Whoever created this trail obviously knew nothing about trail making. The trail went straight up and straight down, and for long distances too. There were no water breaks in the trail so every part of it had a rut down the middle with steep sides. You could either run side to side on the sides of the ruts or try to run heel to toe in the rut. This did not make for a fun section. As a result of my haste and because of the condition of the trail, this section seemed to take forever. I knew it was seven miles from Pot Bottom to the finish and time was running out. When I finally reached Pot Bottom, I had 2:28 to get to the finish. That means I would have to do three miles per hour to break 36 hours. In my condition, I wasn't sure I could do it. I passed through Pot Bottom without stopping and headed for home. The next couple of miles are uphill. I power walked as well as I could, not knowing if I was losing time or not. The first part is rough road and then you finally reach some very good dirt road. This doesn't last though as you make a turn back onto very rough road. In fact, this next section is as rutted as the trail section before Pot Bottom. The only good thing is that it is double track instead of single track so it is easier to find someplace to put down your foot. I had to constantly cross from one side to the other to be able to keep running. The good thing about this section is that it is all downhill. I ran as well as could, downhill, for over two miles. This allowed me to get some of the time back that I lost on the uphill. I was feeling more confident. After another short uphill, I started back down again. I could see houses down below me and knew I had to be getting close but the end just never came. Finally, I turned off the road into another trail section. It was all downhill but it was full of icy-like slippery mud. If I was going to break 36 hours, I had to ski this slop all the way to the bottom. After about half a mile of this, I saw Fred Mesina from the GAC who was headed up to run the last of us in to the finish. I told him Ray was just behind me and I headed down the slippery slope. I ran into Jim O'Neil and Sue Norwood at this time. I got a chance to say hello and passed on by, as I could smell the barn now. I continued to slip on down the slope until, after another mile, I finally reached the paved road to the finish. Fred Reimer and Errol "Rocket" Jones were there and told me I had .9 to go to the finish. I tried to push to the finish until I met up with another runner heading to the finish. Since I was running as fast as he was walking, I decided to walk it in with him the rest of the way. We finally made the turn into the field and could see the finish banner. He saw his wife at the side and went over to her while I ran it in and got it done in 35:39:24. Heck, I had plenty of time. I ran the last 25 miles, from Brighton to the finish, with one cup of water, 1 1/2 bottles of water and one Succeed cap. I was just as strong (or as weak) at the finish as I had been all day but I didn't eat more than a few thousand calories. What's all this crap about eating tons of Ensure and GU throughout the run. I took one Succeed cap every hour throughout the daylight part of the race and took three overnight. I took one more during that last 25 miles. Maybe people spend too much time thinking about what to eat and not enough time concentrating on the race at hand. I felt great at the finished. I had one blister on the middle toe of my left foot. I was a bit dehydrated at the finish but not badly. I spent a total of 84 minutes in the aid stations with 28 of that at Big Mountain and 29 at Lamb's Canyon. After a quick shower, I returned to the finish area and had two sandwiches and four huge chocolate chip cookies. The only ill effect I had from the race was a sore stomach from Tuesday until Friday. It felt like a stomach bug but it could have been my stomach shrinking from lack of food. By the next Saturday, I walked a hilly round of golf, mowed my lawn and was back to normal, or as close to normal as I get. At the finish line, I got to see my friends Greg Loomis and Jeanine Carlson get their Grand Slam eagles. I met Rich Limacher and Norm Yarger.. Al Catalano and I were the only GAC'ers to finish. Al finished a career Grand Slam. Gilly stopped earlier and, as it turned out, Ray got turned around in the section before Pot Bottom and never finished. When he finally reached Pot Bottom, they told him he would probably not make the 36 hour cutoff so he opted to stay and called it quits. In retrospect, he knows he should have just kept going and finished, even if he didn't make the cutoff. It took them about three hours to get him back to the finish. Fred finally realized that Ray wasn't coming and return to the finish. Catra and Nick toughed it out for finishes and Steve and Deb had to drop. I made the statement that I would probably never run Wasatch again. Not because I don't like the people or the scenery but because it is just too damned difficult. The slogan for Wasatch is "100 miles of heaven and hell." When it rains, it is just 100 miles of hell. The only heaven I encountered was the scenery. I never really enjoyed the race at all and I usually do enjoy running 100 miles. I guess, once I get Hardrock under my belt, I will just stick to the easier 100 milers. If you love self-abuse, you might want to find your way out to Utah next September. Later, Jeff Washburn