Comments, race reports and
thanks from the 2006 participants of
The Heartland 100 & 50
Mile, Spirit of the Prairie race.
From Ben Holmes
Whew! What a
weekend.
Last Tuesday, I
finally decided to do the 50-mile Heartland "Spirit of the Prairie" run.
It was a last-minute decision. It was originally an idea that Raul Flores had
put into my stupid head a week previously. I try to stay in (at least) 50-miler
shape year-round, but I'm getting over a pretty severe injury from 7 weeks ago,
so I wasn't sure how I'd do.
We headed down
to Cassoday, Kansas on Friday at noon. It's about a 2-1/2 hour drive from
Kansas City. We left in a convoy of two vehicles "loaded to the
gills" with supplies...more on that later.
Raul and I got
to race headquarters and registered for the race. We had the pleasure of
meeting some new ultrarunners and running in to old buddies, as well. Fellow
Kansas City Trail Nerd, Gabe Bevan was going to have this be his first
100-miler, and he looked ready for it. We hung around there and had the great
pre-race supper fixin's hosted by the Kansas Ultrarunners' Society (KUS). We
ate well, and then headed south 22 miles, to our motel stay.
We stopped at
Walmart first, and picked up a couple of bags of Pepperidge Farms cookies. I
had a keg of my homebrewed India Pale Ale in the back of my vehicle, so I threw
the tap on it, and Raul and I had a couple of pints of beer and a bag of
cookies each to nibble on while we watched TV and got ready for an early sleep.
Kyle Amos and his family showed up at the motel at about 7:30 p.m. Raul and I
had "lights out" at 8:30, to try to sleep as much as we could before
the 4 a.m. alarm setting.
We got up at
4:00, got ready, found a place with some coffee, and headed up the road eating
bananas and cookies. We arrived back at the Cassoday starting line about 1/2
hour before the 6:00 a.m. start. It was about 39 or 40 degrees F. We would be
running in dark conditions for at least an hour. The race started, and I
quickly found my conservative first-half pace. I found several folks to talk to
on the way out to the 50-mile turnaround. Many were doing the 100-miler, and
they had a long way to go to their turnaround.
The course was
on farm roads through tall grass prairie and ranch country in the middle of
"Nowhere, Kansas." There were some hilly sections with long, 200-300
foot high hills, but everything was indeed "runnable." Talk about
desolate! On the entire 50-mile course, I only saw 6 or 7 viable dwellings and
one ghost town.
About
45-minutes or so from the halfway point, I saw Kyle Amos and (newby
ultrarunner) Josh Pool in 4th & 5th place, running together back the other
way. They looked strong and determined. (They would run the entire race
together). I was surprised to see Raul at the last aid station before the
turnaround. His sciatica was acting up, so he dropped at 25. (He
had run a fast marathon the weekend before, though). I got to the mile 25
turnaround, and got back to the aid station to dig into my drop bag. I tried a
new caffeine drink and took a PB & J quarter-sandwich with me. I had been
eating Sharkies on the way out, and they had worked okay so far, so I would
continue with this pattern. I kept my long-sleeve Golite top on, because the
course had absolutely no shade, and I wanted to limit sun exposure. It was
supposed to get up to 70F, but I wouldn't be too hot in that top, I thought.
On the way
back, I put on my earbuds and cranked my IPod Shuffle. I concentrated on
running all of the hills that I had walked previously on the way out. I was
successful with this plan, for the most part. I didn't want to get passed, and
wanted to take as many "roadkill" as possible on the way back. It
started to get hot in some sections, but at the top of the hills you could feel
a cooling breeze. I turned up my music louder. I passed 5 people in about 20
miles.
At about 5
miles from the finish, I noticed two side-by-side runners slowly gaining on me.
They were 90 seconds behind me. I would get over a hill or around a corner (out
of sight) and hit it hard. They must have been doing the same, because they
didn't fade back. About 2 miles from the finish, they were less than 1 minute
behind me. At this point, I could see the finish line off in the distance. I
also saw a live rattlesnake in the middle of the road sunning itself. I about
jumped out of my shorts! This was the turning point. I poured on the
speed, and kept thinking, "turnover, turnover, turnover" to give my
legs a boost. There was one last 3/4-mile straightaway before we turned onto
the last 1/2 mile of the only pavement in the race. They were just 45 seconds
behind!!! I pushed my pace up to my PPL, (pre-puke level), and held it there. I
rounded the corner onto the pavement, and hit it hard. I was doing about a
7:30/minute mile pace, at that point. I turned around and looked, and they were
just rounding the corner. I was a full 1/4-mile ahead. This meant that I
had them by almost 2 minutes!
I ended up with
a finish time of 9:48:16. I was satisfied with that time; it meant that I am
finally back from injury and moving along well in my training. Fellow
Trail Nerds Kyle and Josh did REALLY WELL in the 50-mile race. They had moved
up in the race order and tied for 2nd place with a time of 7-hours, 42
minutes!!!
Synopsis: I did
great! My hamstring and back didn't bug me at all. I ran a smart race. I went
out conservatively to the mile 25 turnaround, then hit it harder coming back.
I experimented with a new food and a new drink, and now have a couple
more in my ultra-arsenal.
The rest of the
story:
Directly after
the 50-miler, I ate a little and took a sponge bath with baby wipes. Then
Raul and I initiated the rest of our plan. We drove our vehicles out to
the Mile 95.2 point on the 100-mile course and set up a "gypsy" aid
station (where there wasn't one). We wanted to help the 100-milers finish
their race and lend them some help at a critical point in the race.
We called it
the "Mirage" aid station. Man, we had everything at our
station. Music, ultrarunning videos, a generator, Christmas lights,
pizza, tasty homebrew, hot Starbucks coffee, hot homemade chicken/ramen soup,
water, Coke, Gel, S-Caps, Salty Snacks, Energy Bars, First Aid Kit, Toilet
Paper, bananas, M & M’s, crackers, spare LED flashlights, spare batteries,
and about 20 other things that I'm forgetting. We had forgotton some
critical things, but with our slightly warped but inventive minds, we came up
with some viable solutions that would've made MacGuiver proud.
The aid station
was a hit, especially during the lightning and rainstorms that hit at about
2:00 a.m. and thereafter. I mean, it really got ugly for the runners.
Fellow Trail Nerd Gabe Bevan came running through with his pacer (Rick
Mayo), and was happy to be on a sub-24-hour first 100-miler. Sue Johnson
came within 4 minutes of taking the overall 100-mile race, because Mark
Henderson found our station to be so hospitable. He had taken a nap and
hung around for almost 30 minutes!
At about 10
a.m. on Sunday morning, we started taking down the station and loading up.
We got back to the finish area, hung around for a little bit, then headed
up the road, back toward KC. We only had had a couple of 5-minute catnaps
since 4 a.m. the previous day. I arrived at home okay, unloaded the
homebrew and other "fridge items," and took a hot bath and then a 3
hour nap with my grandson. Then I was up until my normal 11:30 bedtime,
to keep on my normal sleep schedule.
Next year,
we'll do it again, but we'll have it down to a science. We've already
made plans.
If you want to
do a fairly fast, beautiful and fun ultrarun next year, set your sights on this
one. It's a winner! The KUS folks definitely know how to put on a
quality event.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/65423964@N00/sets/72157594331470861/
Race web site: http://www.ksultrarunners.info/hlpage.html
Happy trails,
Bad Ben
Trailrunning
website: http://www.psychowyco.com/
Group site: http://sports.groups.yahoo.com/group/kctrailrunning/
Trailrunning
blog: http://kctrailnerds.blogspot.com/
**********************************************************************************************************************************
Dear Randy and Jim:
I just want to thank you both for putting on the
race and for being so kind and encouraging to an old, fat walker. Saturday was
my first 50 and may be my last but it was a terrific adventure and the
experience of a lifetime. It was truly an honor to have been in the company of
such unpretentious, dedicated athletes. It is difficult to imagine the amount
of time and energy that must be required to hold the event and I know that the
two of you and, no doubt, several others, have sacrificed much for the runners'
community.
I was fairly proud
of myself for finishing the 50. When I got out of my warm, Best Western bed and
gimped into the parking lot to load the car at 5:30 Sunday morning, it was cool
and windy and starting to spit cold rain. I thought about the people still on
the course for the hundred and my mind literally reeled. Let's say I got humble
again, and quickly.
You are special and amazing people. It's a
privilege to have met you.
Warm regards, Alston Jennings. Little Rock.
***********************************************************************************************************************************
From
Peggy Ward
When
I showed up for the pre-race meeting on Friday, I was finally among people that
I didn’t have to explain the reasons for running an ultramarathon. The comradery was wonderful. Experienced ultramarathoners were sharing
their insights. Everyone was sharing a
piece of their strategy. It wasn’t about
competing against each other, it was about surviving the race…making it to the
finish line.
As
I was getting ready for the race Saturday morning, I kept wondering why I ever
started this journey in the first place.
As I went through my pre-race routine, my why was remembered but new questions
came to mind: Could I really do
this? Would it be too much for me? Once my crew member, James Fox, showed up to
get me, all that did not matter. The
motions toward Cassoday were set.
It
appeared the weather was in our favor.
At the Towanda stop along the turnpike, the weather said 44 degrees in
Wichita, only 28 in Cassoday. Thank
goodness I threw on that extra fleece.
Once in Cassoday, the pre-race routine continued. For one moment, I doubted myself…that lone
moment in the cold, dark morning. Then
we made our way to the starting line. It
was dark and cold, but the comradery was there.
It was that comradery that put my mind at ease. Yes, I knew I belonged at that starting
line. Once the pre-race announcements
were done, and the gun was fired, we took our first step toward finishing.
I
have to admit; I was very apprehensive about running in the dark. Watching the various lights, you knew where
some of the runners were, but others were running with no light and they would
show up out of nowhere. Most of the
runners would strike up conversations with whom ever they were next to at the
time. It was a nice way to take the edge
off not knowing what was out there in the dark and where your foot was going to
land next. Once the daylight hit, it was
hard to know if the runner beside you was someone you had already talked to or
not.
The
volunteers at the aid stations were superb to say the least. They always acted happy to see us and where
very helpful. When I saw the volunteers at
the last manned aid station, they were a much welcome sight. I hadn’t seen anyone since mile 33.2. That is probably something one should know
before they start this race. There could
be long periods when it is just you, Mother Nature, God, and whatever you
carried along on the trail. Luckily, the
trail is really well marked. Only once,
when I was south of the last crew station, did I fear I was lost. Luckily, I recognized a rope that was in the
road, and knew the ‘hard right turn’ they warned us about was not far away.
The
trail map they send you showing the elevation changes is true. Believe it…and then some. After the first manned aid station until the
second one, it is really hilly and rocky.
In fact, at a few points it was so steep that I felt like a kid on a
roller coast and would literally raise my arms in the air at the top of the
hill as I started to go back down the other side. The down hills really help your time. Don’t be afraid to power walk the up
hills. I hadn’t planned on walking until
after mile 25, but with the hills, I had to walk sooner. I have holes in the toes of my socks from the
hills, and I had even shortened my toe nails before the race! Looking back, a trail shoe from start to mile
16.8 and mile 33.2 to finish might be a good choice.
As
I mentioned before, the weather was in our favor. The wind was ESE and very light. It was a relatively cool day. As it warmed up, layers could be shed. If you enjoy great sunrises, the smell of the
country breeze, and the view of the Flint Hills, this race is for you. I went to high school in northwest Kansas
where running dirt roads was the normal training mode for track and field
conditioning. This felt familiar.
For
the race directors, organizers, volunteers…thank you. You make this race so comfortable from
registration to finish…including the post race massage. There is so much that goes into making this
such a smooth operation. Your efforts
are appreciated.
To
my crew member, James Fox…thank you.
James is a triathlete. If you can
find a triathlete to be your crew member, you will do well. He had every crew stop set up for me with
everything I would possibly need laid out.
It saved time on the clock and didn’t allow me to stop long enough to
get tight. He also helped me pace in at
the end. He coaxed me to dig deep and
find any strength I had left.
To
my daughter, Paige Bergmeier…thank you.
She could not be at the race as she had a volleyball tournament. Yet, she understood I was going to miss her
tournament. When she is home, she always
stands by the front door, gives me a kiss and tells me that she loves me every
time I leave for a run.
****************************************************************************************************************************************
From
Tonya Siltman
I just wanted to thank you for a great first 50
and the TLC at the finish line. I will highly recommend this race to
everyone I know who runs and is thinking of getting into ultras!
*****************************************************************************************************************************************
Randy,
I wanted to thank you and the
volunteers who made my 100 memorable and "doable". The experience is one that I will reflect on
for as many years as I live. The stars,
the sunrise, and the sunset were very spiritual on the prairie.
The only thing that I found you could
improve upon is to make it not so wonderful at the aid stations, so people
aren't tempted to join the volunteers (ha!).
Truly, it was a very profound
experience, and I would not have been able to pursue it without the team of
knowledgeable and capable people to show me the way.
Kansas Rocks (literally, as
well)
****************************************************************************************************************************************
Dear Randy & Jim:
Thank you so much for hosting the Heartland 100 miler. We really enjoyed your race. We would like to thank ALL your wonderful volunteers and in particular, the aid station volunteers who were the best we have ever experienced. They took care of our every needs and then some.
Marion would like to especially thank Jim for his support and encouragement on helping her get through those last miles.
***********************************************************************************************************************
From David A. Hughes
Randy—thanks again for hosting us and for putting on
such a wonderful event. Each year I look forward to the time on the
prairie trudging on like the pioneers. The aid was simply among the best
I’ve had—lots of variety of both hot and cold foods. Having the same
soups at night eventually disagrees with my stomach, but your sloppy Joes,
lintel bean soup, and “prairie pellets” stayed down and provided a lot of
energy. The last ad-hoc aid station about five miles from the finish was
most welcomed. It was a good place to drop a lot of extra gear for the final
push. I kept looking ahead and back looking for other runners. I
saw them just ahead or gaining on me from behind, but upon further inspection
they all disappeared. Thanks to God helped us all whether we finished or
not.
"...let us run with patience the race that is set before
us, fixing our eyes on Jesus..." (Heb. 12:1,2, NAS)
****************************************************************************************************************************************
Heartland 50-Miler
Cassoday, KS
October 14, 2006
Report by Karen Riddle
It
all began on a pleasant clear Friday the 13th in the a.m. (no – I’m
not superstitious; it’s just what day it was!).
I went out to check the fluids in my brand spankin’ new shiny silver
Honda Civic (actually new to me, 1999, 41,700 miles at the unbelievable price
of $5,700 !!!). I break the hood release
lever right off in my hand – luckily the hood released, but here I am, with the
lever broke clean off – cracked off – not good.
Worry about it later.
So,
then I go out and feed the goats and dogs before I load the car and leave for
Heartland 50 miler in Cassoday, KS, only a 5 and a half hour drive away – if
you are doing the speed limit – imagine – two states away and closer than San
Antonio (at least for me)! Anyway, I
greet two of the dogs that are out in the kennel – behind an angle iron barred
door, hinged at one side, hooked closed, with some play in the door. Well, those dogs were so darn happy to see
me, in unison, they leapt up with paws up on the door, (now, remember, I said
there was play in the door), that door came thundering to my head, an explosion
deafening in my brain, the reverberation so intense, I knew it knocked my front
teeth out! I reeled back, staggering and
wobbling in a hunched over position, holding my head, feeling for the blood
with my gloved hand – it was wet! Oh,
that was just the glove. Took off the
glove and felt a half walnut sized lump forming on my forehead just at the
hairline – that’s good – it will be covered by hair if I work it just
right. After the pain left, I went out
to tell Al I thought I cracked my skull open and I was getting ready to
go. He asked if the metal door needed
repair and maybe I shouldn’t go, seeing my luck was not up to par, so far! I hmmfed at the door and told him I’d just
take some aspirin or ibuprofen for the pain.
So,
off I went – 5 and a half hour drive to El Dorado, checked into the hotel –
drove to race check-in and dinner in Cassoday – town of 99, at the Senior
Citizen Center. The shirt was a good
quality red 3-button Henley, with the race logo. Race briefing was exactly that, dinner was
supplied by the local café – not your normal race fare! Salisbury steak for the hard-core meat
eaters, chicken, in addition, scalloped potatoes, beans, corn and pie for
dessert. It worked for me! The pastor of the local church said the
blessing and invited all the runners to church on Sunday, smelly or not.
I
rudely leapt to the front of the line and hogged down my food, so I could get
back to the hotel, get things in order and rest. I thought I had my drop bags organized, but
not so and it took me an hour and a half to sort everything out, get things
ready, when I thought I’d be taking it easy, reading my book. I finally got bedded down, got some excellent
sleep in spite of the thin walls revealing a dog barking and people talking.
In
the a.m., runners were leaving the hotel about the same time as I was and as I
paid the toll in Cassoday, the toll man was getting a kick out of all the
runners heading that way. It was cold,
cold, cold!!! Registered 38
degrees!!! But, I planned and had warm
clothes in my drop bags, two shirts on, gloves, hat and buff to cover my
ears. I had grits, a banana and rice
pudding for breakfast, along with coffee and was keeping hydrated with water.
I
used my Golite pack that has two mesh pockets in the back that can hold two
bottles, easier to mess with than a bladder and I needed electrolyte in one of
the bottles. I had all kinds of goodies
in my pack and my drop bags, one of which was at the Battlecreek 8.2 and 41.8
mile aid station, the other at the Lapland 16.8 and 32 something.
At
the port-a-potty I met Brian Tidmore – wasn’t hard to spot him and he reminded
me that Thomas Okazaki was there and I hadn’t seen him at the dinner. I found Thomas right away, as we were about
to start and we ended up running together.
He had gotten in at midnight and slept in his car. My original plans were to run my 8’s and walk
the 2’s, make it to the turn around in 6 hours.
That would give me plenty of time for my run back, which unfortunately
usually is way too slow. My goal was 13
and a half hours – this was my training run for Mother Road 100. Talking and running with Thomas was
super! He is a kind, witty, honest soul
and if anyone needs a running partner he is highly recommended! He carries such positive thoughts – I don’t
think a negative thought could reside in him!
What a wonderful person! It was
pure pleasure and the miles just melted away, though slower than I had planned.
The
course is run on dirt, gravel, and rock, jeep and single track roads (with a
stretch or two of regular gravel road) across the last remaining prairie grass
in the U.S. and across open range. Part
is also in the Flint Hills. The
countryside was inspiring, it was prairies from the real out west wagon
drives. You could just visualize the
wagon trains amongst the flowing grasses, see them circled at night, with the
buffalo surrounding them. It was true
unspoiled rolling land, it was America! The scenery was beautiful and just
amazing! And Kansas is not flat! One hill, Thomas nicknamed mini Wasatch. The hills were Umstead-like, though sometimes
steeper and sometimes longer. I maybe
saw 3 houses in 25 miles, and no people.
The only vehicles on the road that I saw were two trucks and the rest
were race people getting or dropping off water, people or drop bags. The weather was cold, then cool, clear, clear
skies, later the sun warming me.
Thomas
and I ran and talked, walked up the hills, so my 8’s and 2’s somewhat
dissolved. Everything reminded Thomas of
something, the rocks – Rocky Road Ice Cream!
Ha! He was trying to think of
songs with the word ‘road’ in them – me, not being as trivia inspired or as
witty as Mark Henderson, couldn’t really help out and I think we only ended up
with two or three songs.
We
reached the turnaround in 6 hrs. and 30 minutes. Oooooops.
This just means I will get in, in 14 hours. Oh, well, nothing I can do about it now! I just hoped that now Thomas could get to his
turn around in 13 hrs. We exchange hugs
and good lucks and are off in opposite directions. The sweet little lady from Colorado that I
met at the check in the night before was about half an hour ahead of me and
shortly I saw her! There were 5 people
behind me and I was feeling super! I had
not had one issue, save for the sciatica, which I was stretching every ten
minutes. I caught up to Rima and she was
doing so badly, she didn’t want to talk about it. A volunteer had stopped and was going to keep
a check on her. I’m feeling great! I see another runner ahead and we meet up at
an aid station – he lingers and I go on.
Oh, the aid stations – they were set up with all the regular fare,
Conquest was the drink, some had actual tents, which was a great idea,
considering the weather could do anything out here. It was said that the volunteers who manned
the stations stayed there throughout the entire race! And they did this every year! They were very accommodating and my favorite
was the homemade oatmeal cookies at the Lapland station. There were also unmanned aid stations, which
I loved!
Okay,
now there were seven people behind me and I saw one more up ahead. I catch up to him and he’s not doing
well. Stomach problems. He did look odd – his stomach was all
unnaturally distended and he wasn’t a large man. He was either going to implode or explode and
I had to get out of there!!! We walked
up a hill together, but it was paining him badly and he bid me adieu.
About
mile 40 I started feeling tired and took about 8 minutes to change my watch to
7’s and 3’s. Oh, I forgot to mention, I
was back doing my intervals. The hills
were steeper, the rocks were bigger and they moved Battle Creek! I did not remember the rocks being this
brutal! The downhills were wonderful,
but the ups were strenuous. Where was
Battle Creek? Finally, I got there and
yes, they admitted, they did move it – also they added hills and rocks and in
some places swept the road of rocks, just to keep things interesting! I was thinking – this is great – I could
actually break 13 hrs.!!! On and on and
on and a volunteer pulled up and asked me if I knew where I was! I said – I sure hope so! He said
- look ahead! There was the water
tower! There was the finish! I thought – two minutes away! Five ?
Ten? It was actually 20 minutes
away and I made it! Negative split! For me that is tremendous! 12:54
! ! ! I was very pleased. I had some hot potato cheese soup, put on
more clothes as it was getting very cold, and headed back to the hotel – I was
very gritty and in desperate need of a shower.
Got in bed and the legs acted up – twinged and
ticked and cramped and I just couldn’t get to sleep; the paper-thin walls not
helping, with some guy talking on his ham radio – I could hear everything,
someone else watching a movie – how loud do they need it? Woke up at one, at two, at 4, at 6, then
finally at 8. and my legs felt fine! Packed up my stuff and headed back in the
rain! I thought of those still on the
trail. It rained the whole way
home! I stopped a few times to stretch
and walk about, but my legs really felt fine.
It was a great run! I would do
the hundred there sometime! Oh, and the
lump on my head still hurts, but it subsided!
It’s more like a squashed egg now!
*****************************************************************************************************************************************
From Dale Perry
"Rollin' rollin' rollin', keep my
feet a rollin', God damn these hills are rollin', Heartland....."
Where's Frankie Laine when you need
him?
Who said Kansas was flat? Not me, having grown up in the area. I know well and true how the hills roll in
Eastern Kansas, particularly in the Flint Hills Region of Kansas, where
Heartland is held. No matter how many
trips I made through the Flint Hills to visit my folks in Wichita while I was
stationed in the St Louis area, or in the last several years visiting my folks
in the nearby town of Andover where both of my parents lived out their
remaining years in assisted living and nursing home care. Alas, those visits have come to end, as both
my dad and mom passed away this summer.
It wasn't until my mom died in July that I decided I wanted to run
Heartland again, in memory of my parents who lived the majority of their lives
in the Wichita area. Mom and dad never
quite understood this passion for ultrarunning, particularly 100 milers, but
they were supportive and never gave me any grief over it. My dad was a very stubborn person and I think
this has rubbed off onto me, as I was going to need his stubbornness to get
through this one, although I didn't know it at the time.
This was my second year running
Heartland, and the beauty of the Tallgrass Prairie never ceases to amaze
me. Having made numerous trips between
Topeka (where my brother lives) and Andover on I-35, which goes right by the
course near mile 43, I always made a habit of looking for those telltale
landmarks that dot the course from 43 miles on:
the bridges over the turnpike, the dirt road near the interstate, and of
course that god awful transmission tower you see from other points on the
course. I made the trip down there with
Vince Gerber and Ron Wright, both from Colorado. Vince was doing the 100 miler, Ron wanted a
50 miler.
After checking into our hotel in El
Dorado (pronounced El-Doe-Ray-Doe in Kansas parlance) we headed up to Cassoday
for the packet pickup and dinner. Having some time to kill, we had our pictures
taken in front of the "Welcome to Cassoday: Prairie Chicken Capitol of the World"
sign, talked with old friends and new ones.
Fellow SLUG Ben Holmes called me over to the back of his "Bad Ben's
Ultramobile" to show me the keg of IPA homebrew he had. He told me he and Raul Flores were going to
do the 50 miler, then after that head back out to the last unmanned aid station
on the return leg and set up an aid station and serve brew to any and all who
wanted some. Yep, it was looking to be a
fine weekend.
After the pre-race feed (chicken, steak
patties, mashed potatoes, corn, rolls, apple pie...this is Kansas guys. No sissy-fied pasta offered here) we headed
back to the hotel for last minute race preparations. We got up bright and early Saturday morning,
got our stuff together, and headed out into the early morning darkness towards
Cassoday. It was a bit brisk standing
around checking in, so we stayed huddled in the car until the last possible
moment.
Soon, we had to get out of the comfy
confines of the car and toe the start line with a 100 or so others. Soon we were off and I immediately went into
my own feel good pace. I wanted to go
out easy for the first half and hopefully save it for the last half. As we were making our way on the dirt roads,
I noticed my flashlight was dimming.
Dammit, I put brand new batteries in this before I left. Since there was some decent moonlight I opted
to turn it off and go by moonlight. I
was going to have to remember to get some spare batteries from one of my drop
bags for later, as my main light was awaiting me at the 75 mile aid station at
Teterville, and I was going to need some light from 64 miles to there..
The first 8.6 miles of the course is
relatively flat, some rolling hills, but the real rolling starts after the
Battle Creek aid station at 8.6 miles. I
was trying to stay in my comfort zone, and I would periodically look at my GPS
to get a pace finding out I was a minute per mile faster than I had
planned. I kept slowing it down but
would find myself picking it back up again.
I decided after battling with this for nearly an hour I was going to
relent to what felt fine and not worry about technology determining my pace.
Bad mistake, as I would find out later.
I got to Battle Creek in 1:23, about 8 minutes faster than planned. I figured the hills from here to Lapland
would slow me down some. They didn't
much.
By now the sun was out and the air was
warming up nicely. The wind was a little
breezy so I decided to keep my long sleeve on for a while. I found myself running halfway up the hills
then forcing myself to a walk. I was
hoping this would slow me down enough so I wouldn't be so wasted later on. Before I knew it, I was at Lapland aid
station (mile 16.8) in just under 3 hours, still faster than planned, but only
by 5 minutes. I grabbed some food while
I got my bottles filled, then headed out the long descent towards
Teterville. This hill would suck coming
back. The next 7.7 miles to Teterville
(mile 24.5) and my drop bag went uneventfully.
I was playing cat and mouse with Ben along this stretch, and eventually
lost him as I pulled away. At least the
hills weren't so many here, although there were some hills to walk. I got to Teterville in 4:34, just about even
with my projected splits. I spent some
time here changing clothes (got rid of the long sleeve and opted for a heavier
weight short sleeve) and replenished my waist pack with food and extras for the
trip to the turnaround. As I was heading
out I saw Ben coming back from his 25-mile turnaround and waved goodbye to him,
telling him to save me some beer for later.
I was hoping for a noneventful 6.7
miles to Texaco Hill aid, but found myself getting low on water by the time I
got to Texaco Hill. I had two bottles
and I was sucking them dry by the time I covered the distance, in about
1:22. I was starting to sorry about
dehydration at this point, although the temperatures were only in the
mid-sixties, but the sun was blaring down on all of us. I talked to Matt Watts after the race and he
also mentioned he was going through water like I was. I found myself walking more of the hills in
this section and just going easy. Just
before
Texaco Hill I spotted the dreaded
Transmission Tower from Hell, just ahead.
Boy, if I just go straight here I can knock off about 10 miles. But the course made a left turn away from the
tower. I would see it again later on.
Got to Texaco Hill and refueled and left for the next 5.3 miles to
Ridgeline. Thankfully, this sections'
hills are more forgiving and is mostly flat.
I still was able to maintain my 9/1-run/walk mix, and eventually got to
Ridgeline (mile 36.4) in 7:07. By this
time I was starting to get behind my splits and figured I wasn't going to make
the 50-mile turnaround under 10 hours. Oh
well. Again I got my bottles refilled
and I ate a sandwich (saving the return leg for the Prairie Power Pellets
offering).
By now I settled into my pace and
continued doing 9/1's. The only
exception to this plan was the numerous cattle guard crossings that forced me,
at least, to walk the crossings. These
crossings consisted of a series of 3 inch steel tubes or slats stretching
across the roadway. They varied in
length from 3-4 feet, so one had to be careful crossing over them. Pretty easy to twist an ankle so I opted on
the side of caution and walked all of them.
This is one of my favorite sections as it is pretty gentle and you get
great views of the prairie as well as all the grazing cattle. In fact, I had to slow down a bit as a herd
was crossing the road in front of me. I
didn't want to spook or provoke them, so I gave them a slow down. I was starting to feel better now, as I was
getting closer to the next aid station at Matfield Green, mile 42.5. I crossed the turnpike on the overpass, and
turned right onto another road right next to the aid station. They asked me if I wanted a hamburger, so I
said sure and ate it while they filled my bottles. Just as I was getting ready to leave the
leader Mark Henderson was coming in from his return leg! I left here at 8:31. I thought if I can push it to the turnaround
at 50 miles, I might make it under 10 hours.
Upon leaving, we head down a road then
up over the second overpass over the turnpike, then parallel to the roadway for
about a mile before turning and heading up the hill. The longest hill of the course was just ahead
of me, waiting to taunt me as I made my way up the hill. The top of the hill is landmarked with that
damned transmission tower. Four and half
miles of hell. Then an easy 2.5 miles to
the turnaround aid station (Lonetree) at 50 miles. I was hoping to run and walk this section but
I ended up walking more than running. I
was getting low on water by the time I reached the Tower of Doom and yelled out
loud "Thank You!" when I saw an unmanned aid station there ready for
me to dig in. I filled one bottle up as
the next 2+ miles are pretty easy and downhill.
I picked up the pace a bit feeling I might make it in 10 hours. I finally caught glimpse of the aid station
below me and hustled my way in. I got
there in 10:08. I sat down to take of
business (change clothes, refill my pack with food, change batteries in my GPS
and MP3 player, etc). I was offered the
most satisfying sloppy joe ever as I was tending to my issues. Boy, was this yummy. I gulped down several cokes. I also took the first of many double shot
espressos in a can. At this time my friend Matt Watts buzzed in and out with a
sloppy joe in hand. He was a bit bummed
when they didn't have any beer there. I
was getting a bit pissed, as I couldn't find my replacement salt caps. I thought I put a container in my drop bag,
but it was nowhere to be found. I had
two left from the first half. I guess I
would have to take rock salt being offered at the aid stations until I get to
my next drop bag at Ridgeline. I finally
got out of the ass chasm chair and made my way out. On my way out I ran in to Anne Watts and
Vince Gerber (who were running together since Teterville) and I asked them if
they had any extra salt. Anne, bless her
heart offered me as much as I wanted. I
only took 2 as this would get me to Ridgeline.
Vince took my picture with Anne and we went our separate ways, at least
for now.
Now I had to climb the big hill outta
there. When I finally got to the top I
saw Matt in the distance ahead. I was
hoping to catch up with him but wasn't going to worry about it either way. I ran most of this part towards the Tower of
Death, and opted to stop at the unmanned aid station and fillup just in
case. I then made my way back down the
road towards Matfield aid station. By
now I changed my 9/1 run/walk to a 4/1 run/walk. About halfway down the road I finally caught
up with Matt, but he was on a different schedule than me so I ended up getting
ahead a bit. I figured he'd catch me
later on anyway. Got back to Matfield in
12:01, grabbed some coke and a sandwich (the burgers were a bit dry before so I
passed this time) and made my way out.
Saw Matt coming in as I was heading out.
It was still light out and I realized I
never stopped to get extra batteries at the earlier drop bag. Shit!
I hope I can get to Ridgeline and "pray" they have some AA
cells to give me. I was into a nice and
comfortable 4/1 routine for most of this section. I did have to stop and get by what was now a
huge herd of cows blocking the road.
Some stared at me, others ran away, and others ran ahead of me. I just didn't want to get charged.
After wasting some time there Paul
Schoenlaub drove up from behind offering me words of encouragement. I stopped him to ask for some batteries, and
he HAD SOME! HOORAY! He gave me a couple from one of his lights
and offered to give me an extra light, but I declined, as this would get me to
Teterville. Thanks a million Paul! With that worry off my shoulders I made my
way towards Ridgeline. Matt Watts passed
me around here and I kept him in sight as I made my way to Ridgeline. I was able to get there without using my
light until the last 1/2 mile. As I was
pulling in, Matt was munching on the cup of power pellets. I got my drop bag, sat down to change clothes
and refill my pack. I was looking for
some double shot espressos but couldn't find any here. Oh well, it'll be at Teterville. I replenished my salt, grabbed more food and
stopped for some power pellets myself.
Beans, weenies in a BBQ sauce.
Yummy! Boy this hit the
spot. I finally bid adieu, leaving here
at 13:35 into the darkness.
This section leading to Texaco Hill is
summed up by one word: BORING. Flat as hell, so I just went into a 4/1
routine to get me to the next aid station 5.3 miles away. So far the light was holding up. Not sure what was going on with that, but I
wasn't going to complain. Finally got to
Texaco Hill aid 1:26 later and sat down for a bite to eat and some beverages. I wasn't here too long and when I left the
tent, boy was I chilled! So I stopped to
put on my jacket. The wind was giving me
fits trying to put it on, but I managed and made my way down to
Teterville. This section of the course
is very rocky. Thank God for a light
cause this would have sucked without it. I guess I slowed down quite a bit here
as I got to Teterville in 2:12, or 17:13 into the run, half an hour behind my
projected splits. One factor was my
light. It crapped out 1/2 mile from the
aid station on the dirt road. I could
see the aid station ahead but it was pitch dark out. This put me in crawling mode, as I couldn't
even see the road surface. I guess I'm
going to have to get a replacement light, as this was pretty new. I used it at Hardrock with no problems, so
not sure what the issue is with the battery consumption problem with this
light.
Finally got to Teterville totally
pissed. Sat down next to Don Ryan and
rummaged through my drop bag. Shit, no
double shot here as well! WTF! I started going into a tirade complaining
about my light and no this and no that, Don offered me one of his lights. I said no thanks. I have my dependable light here so all should
be fine in that department. Then I
looked at the aid table and saw a container of Ensure. So I grabbed it for some calories. It tasted great. Gulped down some coke, got my bottles
refilled, and stepped back out into the darkness. Turned on the light......and voila! I had light!
And gawddam! It was bright. Life is good.
The section between Teterville and
Lapland is a grunt. Lots of hills, and
one huge hill leading up to Lapland itself.
What really sucks is you can see it over 2 miles away all lit up like
Christmas. I kept thinking it's just
ahead and realized it wasn't. I finally
got there, taking 2:20 in the process over the course of 7.7 miles, about a
half an hour slower than earlier in the day.
I sat down and got into my drop bag to refill my pack, refill my
bottles, and grab some food. Paul showed
up again and I thanked him for the batteries, and told him they lasted almost
to Teterville. As I was leaving he
offered me a back up light (since my original back up light was now
kaput). Once again Paul saved my sorry
ass. I can't thank Paul enough as he
walks out with me a bit to make sure I'm okay.
As I was in the aid station Anne and Vince showed up. They were doing really well.
This next section I was dreading, as it
just sucks the whole way to Battle Creek, 8.6 miles distant. Lots of hills. So I did the best I could and made my way
along, by this time I was in walking mode.
My running (ha! More like
shuffling) mode was not any faster than my power walk so I walked it in the
next 16 miles. This was going to be a
lonnnngggg ass 16 miles. About a mile or
so before Battle Creek, Anne and Vince passed me. Then we were treated to a wonderful lightshow
of nature: lightning! Lots of cloud-to-ground strikes ahead, to the
left, to the right, overhead. It was so
awesome. Your running along in total
darkness except for your light, then all is bright and your light is now
worthless for a fraction of a
second. Anne and Vince were just
ahead of me when there were two cloud-to-ground strikes just ahead. I yelled out "AWESOME!". Then it started to rain. Luckily for us, is was only a moderate rain
for about 10 minutes. However, at this
time the finish line was getting pounded with rain. By the time I got to Battle Creek aid 3 hours
later, the rain had stopped. Anne and
Vince were hanging out. Anne looked like
she was having a hard time of it. I sat
down and ate and drank. Then it was time
to head out. Vince and Anne came out
with me and were together a bit until they pulled out ahead of me.
All I was thinking now was 3 miles to
Ben's aid station, then 5 miles to the end.
I saw what was their aid station all lit up in the distance. I wasn’t sure if it was them or not, as I
wasn't sure what they were setting up.
As I got closer and closer I realized it was a full-blown aid station
tent. I got there and Ben offered me a
brew. I happily chugged it, with a
comment from Raul "That really lit up his eyes!". But they had everything you came to expect
from an aid station: food, beer, hot
food, drinks, beer, munchies, beer, hospitality, and beer... I hated to leave but wanted to get this thing
over with. Only 5 miles to go. Still in walking mode. In the distance I saw the lights from Vince
and Anne ahead. I was really happy they
were doing so well. I continued to chug
away at what seemed like endless straight road.
Okay, where's the turnoff? Not
here yet. Shit. Finally I got to the turn. I saw the lighted radio tower in Cassoday
near the water tower at the finish line.
Before I knew it, it was light enough to turn off my light. Then I realized, "Hey! The light lasted the night!" Happy
daze. I saw the old high school building
about 1 mile away. I kept chugging
away. I saw the turn off for the
pavement, marking 1/4 mile to the finish.
I was never so happy to see pavement in
all my life. Dirt roads are nice, but I
was getting tired of them by now. As I
was making my way to the finish line (still power walking) I started thanking
both my parents for getting me here. My
eyes started to well up and I had to keep wiping them away so I could see the
blasted road. Crossed the finish line
with Vince, Matt, Anne and Ron cheering me in in 25:43:37. I shook Vince and Matt's hands, then gave
Anne a big hug and broke down bawling.
Even though Heartland is a relatively easy 100 miler, this was by far my
most difficult finish. I don't think I
have ever been delegated to such a long walk in a 100 miler as I was in this
one. Not a PR (as I was hoping for in
the back of my mind) but I finished rather well. A finish is a finish.
I again want to thank Paul
for all his help during this race. I
don't think I could have done what I did without his help. Also, Ben and his homebrew pulled me out of
despair if for a brief instant. I also
have to thank my parents, Bob and Jean, for seeing me through what was my most hard-fought
finish. Thanks tons! Your spirit kept me going despite what nature
or the course or fate threw at me. And of course the RD Randy Albrecht and all
the wonderful volunteers for making this event what it is: a first class 100
miler.
***************************************************************************************************************************************
From Jeffrey A. Genova
Hey
everyone,
I did it! I finished the Heartland 100, Ultra Marathon. I finished
in 24:48:49 and 20th overall.
It started out as beautiful day with clear skies and the temps stating in the
40's and reaching only the low 60's by afternoon. My partner for this
race was Joel Kahl, a friend from Rogers, AR.
Joel is the very same person who talked me into running an Ultra marathon last
year. We started off great and ran strong following our plan of 25
minutes of running then 5 minutes of power walking. That is until we
reached the hills (yes Kansas has lots of them) and to be honest the scenery
reminded me a lot of the area around the cabin in New Mexico that we go
to. While in the hills we power walked the up hills and ran the down
hills and flats. We made it through the first aid station eating and
drinking as planned. Then it was on to the next aid station through a
section of the course called appropriately called the roller coaster for all of
its straight ups and straight downs.
Joel
and I were running strong until the Ridgeline aid
station. At this aid station I ate some prairie pellets (the Kansas form
of beans and franks) and maybe shouldn't have. Because the next 8 miles
to the Texaco Hill aid station I was not feeling well. The sun had me
beat down and I really didn't want to go like I should have. But, Joel
pushed me and we made it to the next aid station. I got some 7up and ice
that settled my stomach and off we went to the Matfield
Green aid station seven miles from the turn around. Along the way to the
turnaround it was Joel's turn to feel bad, he didn't get enough fluids in him
at the aid station and his water bottle ran out half way between the two aid
stations. I shared some of my bottle with him and we made it. The
strategy we employed worked like a charm pushing us to a 10 hour 45 minute -
50-mile turn around.
This
is where the wheels kind of fell off. I think that mentally Joel and I
felt such a sense of accomplishment reaching the turn at a time 15 minutes
faster than planned that we let our guard down. We spent too much time at
the Lone tree (50 mile, turn around) aid station, 30 minutes in fact, that it
was like all of the energy was sucked out of Joel and given to me. From
mile 50 on Joel kept telling me that he didn't have any running left in his
legs. This was bad because I was charged up and ready to go. I had
asked my pastor Jamie Alexander to write some inspirational passages for me to
read during the race. These devotionals that he wrote were so powerful
and up lifting that they gave me a surge of energy every
time I read one of them. I tried sharing some of them with Joel
but his heart was not in its right place for them. I think that getting
dehydrated early on had really taken a toll on him and he was not all with
me. We made it back to the Matfield Green aid
station where one of the other runners had found a chair right up in the middle
of the food tent and he proceeded to throw up just as Joel went to get
something to eat. Joel does not do well in the presence
of vomit. Needless to say Joel did not eat anything and this proved to be
disastrous for him the rest of his race. He had no energy to run and all
of his stored energy had long since been used up earlier in the day.
Luckily we found him a granola bar in his pack which helped him to regain
enough energy to make it to the Ridgeline aid station
were we met my wife Kristie and Cliff who was to be my pacer for the rest of
the night. They helped us fuel up with some ramen
noodles and they filled our bottles for us. Then we were on our
way. Kristie and Cliff told us that they would meet us at the Teterville Road aid station in 12 miles. This is where
Cliff would join us to run the remaining 24 miles.
Somewhere
in those 12 miles Joel kicked a stationary rock and broke two toes and lost a
toenail on the opposite foot. This caused us to walk a large portion of
the section and was the ultimate cause for Joel to drop from the race at mile
75. Teterville aid station was where I had
planned on Cliff joining us to run the last 24 miles. This was not to be.
Cliff was not able to join me until Lapland at mile 16 because he had to help
Kristie with Joel. At this point I felt great after walking the majority
of the last leg and I was mad that Joel had DNF (Did
Not Finish) so I ran the stretch between Teterville and
Lapland as fast as I could covering 8.5 miles in just over 1 hour and 45
minutes passing three runners like they were stuck in the mud.
Then
at the Lapland aid station Cliff was ready to go. He was awake and
anxious to run. I on the other hand was tired and ready for a nap but
very glad to have someone to run with, as the night was getting lonely.
We kept a quick pace as much as I could stand. I think that the greatest
amount of enjoyment Cliff got out of the night was hearing me tell him
"uncle" the first time I had to walk. I think he had me
repeat it three times since he was in shock having never heard me say it
before. Back at home Cliff and I run together and he is usually the one telling
me to slow down or stop trying to run him into the ground. Tonight it was
the other way around. At somewhere near the halfway point of this stretch
to the next aid station the sky started to illuminate with lightening and then
there was tremendous claps of thunder that edged closer and closer toward
us. Since we were in the Kansas Prairie, Cliff and I felt like giant
foolish lighting rods. The electrical storm became a great incentive to
run as fast as we could to the next aid station. This aid station was at
this point about 3 miles away through the roller coaster like hills.
We
did eventually make it safely to the Battle Creek aid station where another
runner showed up a few minutes after us talking about how he was lying down in
a ditch for safety as we went running past him. At this aid station I
almost fell asleep while waiting for Cliff to get our bottles filled. I
really wanted a nap by now since it was somewhere in the wee hours of the
morning and I had been running for twenty some hours. Luckily I had Cliff
along and he got me up and on my feet. We went back to running at our
speedy pace. This was what Cliff wanted and I wanted no part of it.
In the end I am glad that Cliff pushed me and kept me going. We passed
more runners and Cliff told me that he thought we had passed a dozen while he
had been running with me. I was doing all I could to keep up. Just
barely moving as Cliff was urging me on. All I could do was run a couple
of yards and then I had to walk my legs were like Jell-O. Then I saw a
light behind us and thought that runner might catch us. I had been trying
to calculate what position I was in at this point in
the race. Some one at the turn around had told us we were in 36th and 37th position there. I
figured that with everyone that I had passed in the last 25 miles I might make
it into the top 20 finishers so I took off at what I thought was break
neck speed but, it was probably in all reality no more than a quick
hobble. The combination of the exhausted legs, body, mind and the fact
that I really had to go to the nearest Prairie Port o Pot made the last 5 miles
of the race very, very long. I thought that we would never get to the
finish but we did just after 6:48 am Sunday morning and that light that was
right behind me ended up being 12 minutes back. The first thing I did was
run to the nearest Prairie Port o Pot. I
couldn't think of anything else but that. Then I came back to the finish
line for some pictures and hugs. I got lots kisses from my wife who I
think was just glad that I was alive at this point. Later on I have found
out that Kristie really enjoyed the whole race and wants to do more in the
future. I couldn’t be any happier than
to hear that because I really enjoyed myself too!
Thanks
to everyone who helped out and supported me before, during and after the
race. Thank you so much to all of you that prayed for my safety and
ability to finish the race. I could feel you lifting me up out of the
really bad spots. I will talk to everyone soon and maybe give you some
more details on the race as I remember them but for now I am going to sleep for
a while. God bless and good running!
****************************************************************************************************************************************
Back from Kansas with a report of the
Heartland 100
My wife Caryn and I made a road trip
from Chicago to the heart of the country this weekend. Normally we would have
flown close to the race start but we decided on a road trip in our pickup truck
this time allowing us the opportunity to see parts of America we do not often
get to see.
The ride to Cassoday was a good nine
hours. We took a few back roads once in Kansas to see some of the Flint Hills
scenic area. There were a few small towns along the way and lots of open range
for the cattle to graze on. The roads were rolling with sweeping views of the
grasslands. Finding Cassoday was not a problem. They have their own dedicated
stop off the Kansas turnpike. The Prairie Chicken capitol of the world is the
sign that greets you when you enter the town.
The race headquarters is at the
community building right on the main road, you can't miss it. A large banner
from the Kansas Ultrarunners Society welcomes you. Inside there are rows of
banquet tables and chairs for the meeting and for the great dinner that
follows. Check in is smooth and the race director Randy Albrecht is there to
greet you with your race bag, which includes your shirt, number and some
goodies from Hammer gel. There is a short meeting that started on time and
Randy discussed the race history and what we can expect out on the course. "
There will be cattle out there" he was telling us. He informed us of how
to deal with them on the roads we will be on and he also described the dangers
of the many cattle guards we would have to cross. Dinner followed buffet style
graciously prepared by some of the volunteers.
There are little options for staying in
Cassoday for the night. Camping near the start line is the only option that I
heard of being offered. Most runners hop on the turnpike and go 22 miles south
to El Dorado or north 35 miles to Emporia. There are plenty of hotel options at
either place. We opted for Emporia only later finding out that it was
homecoming for the local college there.
Race morning went very smoothly. We
went to the community center to drop off our drop bags then drove another
quarter mile down the road to the race start where there was plenty of parking
for everyone in the field near an abandoned school building. If you wanted to,
you could sit in your car about 100 feet away to stay warm till the run starts.
The crowd of people was not overwhelming. There were 100 runners total entered
for both the 50 and 100-mile races. We took some pictures and wished everyone
we met good luck.
The weather was cool about 38 degrees
with a clear sky full of stars. The course was pretty flat for the first 7
miles or so before the terrain began to roll. There was an unmanned water stop
half way to the Battle Creek aid station consisting of two large coolers and a
box containing the usual dry ultra food like pretzels, cookies, M&M candy
etc. There were a few of these types of stops on the course, which helped to
provide aid about every four to six miles. Garbage bags proved handy to drop
off used gel packets I was carrying around. The major aid stations for the race
were manned with enthusiastic volunteers. Among the many staples offered were
varieties of soups, beans, burgers, sloppy joes and cookies. One biggie for me,
which I think, should be an unwritten rule for all races was using real brand
name sodas...like Coke... Mountain Dew... 7up...no off brands! The race
director also made an investment in some tents that proved helpful to get out
of the wind and to warm up. Drop bags were nicely laid out on tarps.
Just before the first manned aid
station and for the rest of the course the rolling hills of Kansas present
themselves. There are no major climbs like that of Western States or Leadville
but there are hills nonetheless. Caryn and I ran most of them in the morning
and when they became a little steeper and we became slower, we would then walk
them. We could see cattle now on both side of the road grazing from time to
time. They stayed out of the way watching us as they ate. I only saw cattle on
the road once the whole time I was there. There was a wind that picked up out
of the east, a 10 to 15 miler which by Kansas’s standards is as calm as it
gets.
Did I mention that the whole course is
on road? There are times when it is a mix of dirt and gravel, and then just
gravel. Sometimes the gravel is small like the crushed limestone trails near my
home but other times the gravel grows to golf ball size. Most of it is
compressed however from being driven on. Part of the strategy I found was
trying to run on the softer portions of the road shoulder when possible. My
feet really hurt today but I did not have any blisters. My legs and joints do
not feel any worse for wear then if I run a trail ultra. I am surprised at
this.
At mile 25 (Teterville Road) is where Caryn and I parted company. It is the turnaround point for the 50 milers and I continued out into the Heartland till my turnaround 25 miles later. The Teterville aid station had the most drop bags compared to the others. From here the terrain seems to rise. There is about 10 miles of high (by Kansas standards) ridge running. It is windier here but with grand 360-degree views of the Flint Hills. I was able to see cowboys working rounding up cattle, later driving them out of a valley in semi trucks right past me. This is about the only traffic I would see on the roads I was running. The few runners I saw on this stretch were pretty spread out on the course. One thing I should mention is that it is warmer now, probably in the high 60s. I was thankful that I had switched to a short sleeve t-shirt at Teterville. There are two manned stations along this stretch the famous prairie pellets being offered by Dave at Ridge Line mile 36.5.
From Ridge Line to Matfield Green the
hills get a little more numerous. I was
looking forward to this aid station as it is the most strategic from a drop bag
point of view. One can visit their bag here at 42.5 and 57.4 after the
turnaround. Late in the day most of the mid to back of the pack runners are
near here and the chance to get lights and switch gear for the night is
important. I decided to wait for the return trip for my lights. Sunset is
around 7 pm and the last light fades about 30 minutes after that. It was dark
by the time I returned to the MG. I bundled up for the cool windy night ahead.
On my inbound trip to the Ridge Line
aid station it was all about walking for me. I had my portable radio and was
able to pick up the Cardinals / Mets baseball game to keep me company. The wind
speed was around 20 now with some gusts depending what part of the course you
were on. The sections around Ridge Line and Texaco Hill are the most exposed on
the course and thus the windiest. The temps were cooling and it started to rain
a little then stopped. Started then stopped again. I was anxious to reach
Texaco Hill at mile 68.7 as Caryn who is now crewing for me would be there with
our truck containing more clothing and gear options. She was able to park on
the road right next to the aid station tent. I only had to tap on the window to
wake her up. I switched from a windbreaker to something more moisture proof.
The potato soup here was excellent!
I would see Caryn twice more before the
finish some ten hours later. We were able to meet up at Teterville mile 75 and
Lapland mile 83. It was between these two stops I could hear the coyote choir starting
up about three in the morning. There was a group of them to the left howling at
a few on my right. They kept making noise till the wind shifted and lightning
appeared on the horizon. This was a big concern because the lightning was in
the direction of the finish line. I watched the light show and prayed that the
winds would blow the storm to the north away from Cassoday. There were a couple
flashes near where I was walking but for the most part the storm was a short
one. Later I found out that the storm did hit the finish line area just as the
23 - 24 hour runners were finishing up. I was still 18 miles away and received
only a few sprinkles. I walked the rest of the night till mile 93 running the
last seven in from there.
After making it to the finish Caryn and
I thanked Randy for a great race and made our way to the community center where
there was some food available. The drop bags were there for pick up and we left
shortly afterward for Chicago. The Heartland race turned out to be more than either
of us expected. The race is well directed with great volunteers. The nice thing
that I will always remember is that the spirit of the Heartland is in the
people that make the race happen for others. They want to know how they can do
it better. Runners serving other runners as they would like to be served.
That's the way it should be.
**************************************************************************************************************************************
Cassoday Kansas is nestled in
the “Flint Hills” region of South Central Kansas. The “tall grass prairie”
remnant this region is famous for used to
stretch from Texas to Canada but it now exists only in patches except in the
Flint Hills. Here there are green, golden, rust and silvery grasses on hills
stretching as far as the eye can see. Here is where the buffalo roamed in times
past. Now the area has over 20 head of cattle for every human. Mark Henderson
and I traveled to Cassoday to run the seventh Heartland 100 Mile October 14/15,
2006 sponsored by the Kansas Ultrarunners Society. Mark has run all six before
and won 4 of those races flat out. He “snatched defeat from the jaws of
victory” once by running 3 hours off the course. Another time he was beaten by
a man who still holds the course record time – 14:30:27. Mark was psyched up to
win but also to set a new course record. I just wanted the big silver and gold
belt buckle with the gold buffalo in the middle. To get that buckle I needed to
complete the race less than 30 hours.
We
drove up Thursday night, leaving after work. It was a 10-hour trip that
stretched to 12 with stops. Mark talked to his girlfriends on and off all the
way up (he has quite a few). Each of them offered encouragement and moral
support. I was preferential to “Becky” who sent inspirational text messages. We
arrived tired at 4:30am in El Dorado, 25 miles south of Cassoday, where we had
a room. We slept until about 10am, got some breakfast.
and
trucked up to Cassoday to check in. Cassoday looks like a Norman Rockwell painting with its antique railroad depot,
tall white steepled church, café, antique shop and post office on Main Street.
A few homes, a school and a senior citizens hall make up the rest of it - population
95. 103 runners doubled the population
that Friday, 59 for the 100-mile and 44 for the 50 mile. They came from all
over the country and several foreign countries. I thought it incredible that
folks came from New Zealand, Belgium, Iceland and Quebec to run in Cassoday,
KS. But they did.
The
Senior Citizens Hall was Race Headquarters. We checked in our drop bags (I had
4 bags packed with clothes and gear) and got our instructions. Good home cooked
fare was catered for the race banquet by the town café. I met Deb Cooney, a
petite strawberry blonde from Pittsburg PA. It was her first 100 and I decided
to run with her and pace her. Weather reports kept predicting rain for Saturday
night but Friday’s weather was just magnificent. Mark and I turned in at 8:00pm
and woke at 4:00am all charged with excitement. Outside it was clear and 40
degrees. Forget hot, sticky Houston! We started at 6:00am at the Old Cassoday
School and began running down a long rocky road with flashlights and headlamps.
I found Deb and we ran together.
The
Flint Hills no doubt get their name from the flint rock that has weathered out
of limestone bedrock and forms the surface soil. The roads are paved with flint
and motorists are warned that flat tires can result from the sharp-edged road
rocks. Runners should have guessed what those rocks do to your feet but there
is no explicit warning in the race packet. As the day dawned we were not
thinking about the rocks though. We were glorying in the sunrise and the vast
and beautiful expanse around us. We threw up our hands, sang and jumped and
ran. It felt so wonderful to be a part of this panorama. The first manned aid
station was Battle Creek, 8 miles out. We left our flashlights behind there. As
we progressed to Lapland at Mile 17 a 50 miler, Ron Paul from Denton Texas
accompanied us. Three of us ran together down the “yellow brick road” like
Dorothy, the Scarecrow and the Lion. I convinced Deb to run 8 and 2 (8 min run,
2 min walk). The wind was in our face and it was necessary to pace carefully
and conserve energy. Deb had a tendency to run too fast, walk too little and
spend too little time at the aid stations. Using my GPS watch I could see our
pace at every moment and I yelled “Deb, slow down!” pretty regularly. I had
planned out a time schedule to be at each aid station and we were right on it.
If we were able to hang with it we would finish in 23:30.
After
leaving Ron and the 50 milers behind at Teterville Road (Mile 25) us we climbed
a long hill called Texaco Hill. The hills were not too high (about 200-300
feet) but they added up to 6200’ of total climb and descent for the 100 miles.
We traversed the top of this hill for about 10 miles. The day was now warm and
we were very exposed. Cattle trucks passed us, raising dust. The road stretched
on to the horizon and we knew we had to run long past that. I began to feel
fatigue, as much mental as it was physical. The prairie has a way of
discouraging you simply from the expanse of sameness. Early explorers became
disoriented, discouraged and died. To combat discouragement I focused on
getting to the next aid station. I also had my cell phone with me and I got
encouraging messages from my wife Kathy and running buddies Sema Beavers and
Pastor Kevin Kleinhenz. Kevin said that he was praying for me. Deb put on her
headphones and listened to “prairie music”, hours of popular songs with prairie
themes she had put together. I just remembered one song: “Bury me not on the
lone prairie”.
We
made it to Ridge Line at Mile 37 and I was served up a cup of their famous
“prairie pellets” (beanie weenies). Leaving the aid station we descended the
hill and turned NW. The area from Ridgeline to Matfield Green at Mile 43 is the
most beautiful on the course. My spirits picked up. I was looking forward to
the turnaround at Lone Pine (Mile 50). It seemed just up the road. Well it was
really up – up a long series of climbs and a very long haul. Here we
experienced another prairie phenomenon – the retreating landmark. A tall tower
marked Mile 47 and it seemed close – just over the hill. When we topped the
hill it was over the next hill and so on. It just never seemed to get any
closer. Finally we reached an unmanned aid station at the tower and turned
north toward Lone Pine. Now I had another problem – I needed to “use the
facilities” but there were no facilities and in fact no cover at all. It was
all wide open and I did not want to be that exposed. I ran less and walked
more just to make sure I’d make the porta-potty at Lone Pine. Deb was already
there when I got there, having a blister “duct taped”. The race clock was
10:30, right on schedule! I changed my shoes and replaced some gear. All was
not right though. I had to use the potty three times during the 20 minutes we
were there. A sure sign o’ trouble.
What
kind of trouble? Was I low on salt? High on salt? Overhydrated? Dehydrated?
Ultrarunning is such an art balancing the body’s needs. When things are not
balanced, the body lets you know with unpleasant results. There is no
diagnostic printout, just unpleasant results. I had to squat by the road twice
on the way back to the tower. I got over my shyness – progress. On the way back
to Matfield Green (Mile 58) I began to feel my energy drain out. Deb was
feeling great and running well with duct taped feet. She went on ahead and I
hoped I would catch up. She was there at Matfield Green leaving as I was
getting in. Unfortunately the wheels fell off for me there. I felt nauseous and
sat down in the aid station. When I tried to get up I felt dizzy and had to lay
down on the rocky floor. I began to shake all over from the cold temperatures,
now that the sun was setting. I knew I was in big trouble. “Botto, use your
brain” I thought. “When you picked up your electrolyte capsules at Lone Pine at
least a half dozen were still remaining from the first 50 miles. Those were supposed to have been taken at the
rate of two per hour but they were not - You are low on salt!” I needed more
calories, too. Fortunately Nurse Nancy was volunteering at this aid station.
Nurse Nancy made me comfortable, got me a warm-up suit, some broth with rock
salt added (I had been avoiding that rock salt because it looked so nasty with
black rocks in it.) and hot chocolate, cup after cup of hot chocolate. Like
Glenda the Good Witch she waved her wand over me and I began to feel better. I
sat up in the chair. By now more than an hour had passed and it was dark. Now I
was afraid. It was 6+ miles to Ridge Line where I had a drop bag, mostly up
hill. It was dark and I was alone. What if I was not really recovered?
Another
runner was leaving the aid station and he said to me “You will feel better if
you start moving. You won’t get any more recovered in that chair.” OK, I found
my courage and I got up and left. I began to run little by little and I felt better.
It was a long haul to Ridge Line (Mile 64) but I made it before 10:00pm. In the
aid station tent I saw a tall man seated in a chair doctoring his feet. When I
was ready to leave I invited him to run with me and we set off. He was very
stiff and when he ran he barely shuffled, his long legs rigid like sticks. Yet
he was able to walk very fast. As for me, I did not feel like running much. The
rocks were taking a toll on my feet. I could feel that I was running on
blisters covering the bottom and sides of my feet. Every footfall was painful
and even more so when I ran as I applied more impact to the tender areas. I
found out that my tall friend was a surgeon from Iceland. I could not pronounce
his name so I called him “Doc”. I would run a little to catch up to Doc while
he walked and then continue to run beside him when he ran.
As
Doc and I progressed toward Texaco Hill a fierce headwind (Kansas breeze) came
up. The wind was off and on mixed with misty rain and it felt like the breath
of the Wicked Witch of the West. We reached Texaco Hill (Mile 69) about 11:40pm
and it seemed that they were in a battle to keep the tents from blowing down.
We prepared ourselves for a long (7 miles) trek to Teterville Road (Mile 76).
This was a terrible hike with constant buffeting from the wind in total
darkness on the rocky road. Coyotes howled an eerie chorus all the while. Our
trek seemed to last forever but finally we came down off Texaco Hill and the
wind at our lower elevation subsided. At the Teterville Road Aid Station at
1:30am I asked for pancakes but they told me were served at the next aid
station. “How about some lentil soup?” I was tentative but it was really great
tasting soup – never had better! Leaving the aid station my spirits were up
because I knew the miles to the finish were being whittled away. There must
have been some WD-40 in Doc’s soup because he loosened up and began to run more
and more. I let him go.
‘
The
road to Lapland (mile 83) was a minefield of golf ball to fist size rocks. I
picked through it as best I could. At one point I felt a pain like a loose
toenail sticking into my foot. I took my sock off and shook it out. I hate it
when toenails come off and rattle around in your shoes. I wondered if my feet
were going to make it. About that time I joined up with Marc Needleman of
Chicago. He is a big guy with a lot of spunk. He was pretty much down to
walking like I was though. We complained to each other about the roads. The
Lapland Aid Station played a mean trick on us. We could see it very clearly an
hour before we reached it. All the while it seemed close. I thought I saw
people walking around in it. It was all a hallucination, probably. Miles went
by and we were no closer. Finally we rounded a turn and it was right there!
At Lapland I finally got
my pancakes. Leaving it at 4:00am for Battle Creek (Mile 92) we had to traverse
the worst roads on the course. How much pain could I take? I wanted to click my
heels together and be beamed to the finish line. My mind was full of that, and
then there was another threat. Lightning on the horizon came closer and closer.
I counted seconds after each flash to the clap that roared and rolled across
the dark prairie. There is nothing I fear more on a run than lightning. Here we
were completely exposed and definitely the highest objects around. I was
terrified to see a strike and simultaneous clap perhaps a quarter mile away. I
felt like the Cowardly Lion approaching the Wizard’s Throne Room. I prayed for
God to stop the fireworks! I expect my prayers to be answered in due time but
that flash was absolutely the last one I saw. I admit to being totally amazed.
Even the rain that came later was brief and gentle. I thanked Him who is
definitely in charge of those powerful prairie forces!
Marc
and I reached Battle Creek at 6:30am, just before dawn. With only 8 miles to go
our spirits were soaring as our bodies were dying. We still managed a shuffle
run now and then. After sunup we could see the water tower marking the school
and finish line. I thought we might finish about 8:30am but here again the race
played a cruel joke by making us circle the entire town of Cassoday before the
final mile of approach. Marc said “Lets run it in”. I said, “I don’t know if I
can run that far but when I get close enough I’m going to sprint!” We ended up
running the last quarter mile side by side and then he let me go as I sprinted
to the finish in 27:15:06!
Mark
Henderson was right there to help me get into warm clothing. He had won the
race but had a very tough time and was almost beat by gutsy Sue Johnston of
Vermont who turned out her lights to try and pass him in the darkness. Mark’s
winning time was 18:50. I expected him to have slept all night but instead he
stayed up watching for me. At the Awards Ceremony we got our big belt buckles
and Mark received a homemade Kansas trophy (windmill sculpture). The trip home
was made longer by the driving rain we experienced most of the way. We took
turns sleeping as on the way up but had to stop a couple times to sleep – we
were so exhausted. Mark pulled in my driveway Monday at 5:00am and slept a
while longer before going home.
I
was horrified by what I saw when I first pulled off my socks but a week has
healed the worst of it. I don’t think
I’ll ever run another “rocky road” 100 miler again. Nevertheless I benefited
from the experience and will always treasure it. I am thankful for thoughts,
prayers and support of my family and friends, especially Mark Henderson.
Getting the job done took brains, courage and a heart for the Heartland. Now I
know I have all three!
Bob
Botto
PS. Ron Paul finished his
50 miler in 10:35. Deb Cooney finished her first 100 in 24:33, “Doc” (Hoskuldur
Kristvinsson) finished in 25:48, Marc Needleman finished just behind me in
27:16. Complete results and photos are posted on the Kansas Ultrarunners’
Society website: www.ksultrarunners.info
***************************************************************************************************************************************
Heartland 100
By Phil Sheridan
There are probably as many runners in
Cassoday Kansas as there are citizens, the home folk seem to be smarter than
us, they are still in bed. Waiting around in the morning always seems to drag,
the time before the run starts is always like that, time to fiddle with my 20oz
hand bottle, check to see that my TP and body lube was really still in my
pocket. I know I can pack light for the day, the aid stations are close, no
extreme weather in the forecast.
Dave calls us to the line and we are
off. I have been down this road before. I did not bring a light. I know there
isn’t much to see for about seven miles, straight flat gravel roads without the
hint of even a mild hill. I find myself talking with Kyle and some of the guys,
at that point I realize these are all 50 milers, I force myself to stop running
and play with my watch…no need to be running with these guys. As the light
becomes strong enough to almost make out colors the road starts to wander and I
drop slowly into the Flint Hills. The road is more interesting now, open range
gates to cross, rocks big enough to keep my attention.
I hit the first aid station at Battle
Creek, my bottle is empty, I say hi to Tom and Jan, Jan fills my bottle and I
am off again. For the last couple of miles the road has been following the lay
of the land, gently moving back and forth between the hills. After the aid
station the road changes, it is now a straight line, it assaults the hills
directly. The gravel turns into a mix with a lot of fist sized flint nodules in
it. As soon as I crest one hill I can see the next one coming, it probably only
goes three or four miles like this but it seems much longer. I crest one last
hill; the unmanned aid station is at the top. I fill my bottle again; the sun
is above the horizon now. The road turns south and goes straight some more,
mostly down hill now. Then hard east again, still straight, ignoring the more
logical lay of the land, still more down hill then up, I pass a house, this is
the first house in about the last ten or twelve miles, it sits across from a
burned house. A few years ago I ran by this place, someone lived in the burned
house then. Another turn back north and I am in the Lapland aid station, this
is the first crew station, about 16 miles into the run. I say hi to Sarah,
Stacy is waiting for me, she gives me a new hand bottle, a fresh bag of glorp,
and I am off again.
The road goes straight again; it
attacks the hills instead of following more sensible paths. It is here that I
start noticing the coyotes. In the next few miles I see a couple of groups of
two or three, off the road a couple of hundred yards, watching. This is
curious, I live about ninety miles from the course, when I see coyotes at home
they are very furtive, and always run or hide. These guys are sitting watching,
I wonder if any of the other runners have noticed them. I come to the unmanned
aid station at Thrall Road. Thrall is a place that used to be, if I had not
read about it in “Prairie Erth” I am sure I would never have known anything had
ever been there except the oil wells. I put a little water in my bottle and
head on. After about two miles of very easy running I start seeing the fifty
milers coming back the other way from the turn around. I slap hands with Matt,
yell at the other guys I know, soon I am at the Teterville aid station, just
shy of twenty-five miles. It is another crew station, Stacy is there, another
bag of glorp, some salt tabs, and a fresh hand bottle, I look in the aid station
tent, say howdy to Marilyn and the gang, I don’t see anything that I want to
eat, so I head down the road.
Just out of the aid station a half-mile
or so is the turn around for the fifty. I say adios to a few more runners
coming back, everyone left around me now is there for the long haul. Sue
Johnston passes me as we approach the turn to go up to Texaco hill. The road to
the top is little more than a two track; it is very rocky most of the way up.
Lots of loose apple sized flint. Until
this point I have been moving easily, trying to zone out on the scenery, not
interacting much with the few people I have seen. I like it this way in a
hundred; I really try not to think about the reality of the distance for as
long as I can. I sort of crawl inside myself and hide. When the road tops out
the ridgeline on Texaco hill there is about two miles to the manned Texaco Hill
aid station, this also should be the start of some mostly very easy running for
the next twelve miles. This is where I first see the damned tower. The damned
tower is a communications tower miles away to my right. More people pass me. I come into Texaco Hill
Aid station. This is another crew station. Stacy has another bottle of sports
drink, more glorp and salt tabs. I talk briefly with Dann and Shannon, I have
been up here as a volunteer with them for the last two or three years.
I head for the Ridge Line aid station.
On the way to Ridge Line I notice my heel is starting to complain. This is an
old injury that I don’t want to hear from fifty-k into a hundred. I am forced
out of the ozone, and back into reality, this sucks. When I reach Ridgeline at
about 36 miles I am starting to become somewhat depressed with the situation. I
fill my bottle, and get a cup of beans from Dave; I hope the food will cheer me
back up. I turn up the road; the damned tower is still miles away, floating
along the horizon. More people pass me. Now my heel and my quad on the same leg
are hurting. I am definitely not in my protective shell anymore, I am thinking
about what I am doing. I start walking a lot. I am trying to decide if my foot
and leg really hurt, or if I just think they hurt. I wonder if I am trying to
find a reason to quit. When I get to the Matfield Green manned aid station
Stacy was there to meet me. I was sure at that point that I probably was not
going to finish. I told her that I needed ibuprofen. She was not real hot on
that idea, I had a bad experience once taking it years back and had avoided it
ever since. She let me have one before I
left for the turnaround aid station at Lone Tree. I also put on my MP3 player;
I hoped to get something to work different. When I left Matfield Green at 43
miles I doubted I would finish the run. I walked out of the aid station and
turned the music on, the first song was an old Jerry Jeff Walker tune, “Pissin
in the wind”
Oh Pissin' in the wind, bettin' on a
losing friend
Makin' the same mistakes, we swear we'll never make again
And we're pissin' in the wind, but it's blowing on all our friends
We're gonna sit and grin and tell our grandchildren
I was instantly inspired, I found
myself running again, not the just downhills and flats, but up hills. I
listened to the music; I crawled back into my 100-mile hidey-hole again. The
damned tower was straight ahead now, I see Mark Henderson coming back at me, a
few more miles and I ran by the base of the damned tower and turned into the
long downhill to Lone Tree and the turnaround at 50 miles. I filled my bottle
and headed back up the long hill to the base of the damned tower. I was moving
again. I started to pass people and see outbound runners. When I came back into
Matfield Green I had been reborn. Stacy gave me a bottle at Matfield Green and
I was off again. I went by more runners headed outbound and caught a couple of
more that had passed me earlier.
Soon I was back at Ridgeline. I got
another bottle from Stacy, Dave gave me some beans, and I ate a couple of bites
and come close to heaving them back onto the tent floor. Beans worked going out
but not now. I get my lights and jacket; I won’t see Stacy for about ten miles.
I take a second bottle with water with me. I say hi to Long Vu and some folks
sitting in the chairs. I cross the range
gate, there is a Black Angus bull standing by the road, he isn’t looking real
scared of me. He isn’t doing anything threatening, no pawing or snorting, but
he watches me. Even though he easily weighs 1500 pounds and is as tall as I am,
I know he can move like a cat if he wants to. I walk by him; he is on one side
of the road I am on the other. The 50 feet that separates me from the range
gate may as well be 50k. I walk by to
what I deem to be a respectful distance and start running again.
The ridgeline leads me toward the
Texaco Hill aid station, easy running now, I fix on a target, run to it, and
fix on another. I still do not feel entirely well after nearly launching the
beans. I have grown tired of the sports drink. I keep moving on. After a bit I
think about the water bottle I am packing. I stop and walk and try a sip of
water. Instantly my body is screaming at me to drink. I down the rest of the
bottle in a few gulps. I can feel it infusing my system in seconds, I am still
thirsty, and the bottle of sports drink in my hand has no appeal at all. I
start running toward Texaco hill again. Texaco Hill aid station is invisible
until you are about a hundred yards away. I have worked there and know which
clues to look for on the horizon. When I got there I wanted more water, Shannon
dumped my sports drink, and filled both bottles with water, I didn’t see any
reason to eat anything, Dann gave me a battery for my MP3 player, it had
crapped out a mile or so out of Ridgeline.
I left the aid station; I had been
hoping to reach the long ugly downhill off of Texaco Hill in the daylight. I
was just a little too late. I take one glance over my shoulder at the damned
tower, it had been in my vision for forty miles, I won’t see it again today.
The loose flint nodules combined with my night vision made horrible footing all
the way to the bottom. Toward the bottom I could hear Paul and the gang coming
up behind me, course marking, in a small hybrid car, the flint was popping and
crunching as they came down the rough two track. I came off of Texaco hill and
turned toward the Teterville aid station. Stacy was there again, more water, no
sports drink, I down a frappuccino.
Off into the darkness I go. I head back
down Thrall road, I have been running well for a long time, I drop down off of
the hill to where I think Thrall used to be, I stop and walk too soon, I
silently berate myself, “what a pussy, you didn’t even start running up the
hill” a little more of this and I am at the unmanned aid station. About that
time the coyotes start howling, this is about the same place that I saw them
the first time through. One group starts in, soon another farther off and
behind me answers, soon joined by a third group ahead of me. I decide that I
still need to run, I choose to only allow myself to walk on some of the
uphills, and the run to Lapland becomes a series of targets. I target the next
uphill, I run it until it becomes uncomfortable, I walk, then run over the top
of the hill and to the bottom, I target the next uphill…. repeat…soon I see
Lapland about a mile away. Stacy is waiting
for me; through the day I have gotten a progressively larger load of gravel in
my shoes. I have talked with my gravel and at times even developed a friendly
relationship with it. It has provided a most welcome distraction at times. All
good things must come to an end, and at Lapland I decided to get rid of the
gravel. So at 84 miles I took the first chair of the day. The size of the
gravel is amazing, some of them had felt as though they were marble sized, when
they came out of my shoe they were miniscule, just a little grit. When I got back
out of the tent I was instantly cold. I had been moving and keeping toasty
warm, sitting in the chair killed that. I thought about putting on my jacket,
but quickly ditched the idea and decided to see if I could run enough to warm
up again. I start moving; soon I am warm and turn back into the hills again.
I start working the hills again…no
walking on anything down or flat…run as far up as I can…walk a little…run over
the top. Soon I am all the way back to the last manned aid station at Battle
Creek—92 miles. The guy at the aid station asks my name, I answer, and then I
realize it is Dennis playing mind games. I step into the tent, nothing appeals
to me, and I top off my bottle and head out.
It is about seven or eight miles to the
finish. The road winds a bit and then uphill gradually to the flats. I pass one
more runner coming up to the flats. He is the first runner I have seen in the
last thirty miles. When I reach the flats I run out of targets, I soon realize
it has been easier to work through the hills then it is to move straight ahead
on the flats. I turn my lights out, hoping to be able to be absorbed by the
darkness and not think about the distance. There is lightning on the far
horizon. I am tired, I soon find that I gradually move with the crown of the
road and find myself stumbling at the edge of the ditch, I center back up in
the road but in a few hundred yards find the edge of the ditch again. I turn my
lights back on. With no targets anymore I run then I walk, run…walk…I see a
light ahead where there shouldn’t be one, a tent appears, Ben and Raul are
manning an aid station that shouldn’t be here, I look the goodies over, nothing
appeals. Ben asks if I want a shot of beer, this for some reason seems
reasonable. A shot of very stout homebrew and I am back down the road, walk,
run, walk, the flats suck, then the pavement, the cowbells are ringing, I see
my friends at the tent and I am done.
Heartland
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