After running the Lean Horse 50, in August of 2007, I had the ultra bug even worse than before. After traveling with my family, who did a great job of crewing for me, I couldn't wait to plan another race/ vacation. It helped that my wife also caught the bug, and was totally on board for another event. I had to choose between the Boulder 100, which was very close to home. But, somewhat boring to run 7 mile out and backs around the reservoir with hardly so much as a tree in sight. Easy logistically, but hard mentally. OR, I could run the Heartland 100, in the Kansas tall grass prairie. Being a lover of wide-open spaces and big vistas, it was an easy choice. Much more difficult to pull of logistically, but a far more interesting endeavor. So, 3 weeks before the race, I signed up. No turning back now!

I certainly had many thoughts that I might have been crazy to attempt a 100 miler, just 7 weeks after my first 50 (more on the 'first 50' later). But, I felt good, no injuries and good recovery. I ran a 6-hour race in Frisco, CO, just 3 weeks before Heartland, and ran a PR for every distance up to 36 miles, with excellent recovery. I reasoned that Lean Horse and Frisco were excellent training runs for a 100. I will also interject that I have spent many hours hiking in the mountains in the last several years. During the last two years, I averaged 25-35 mpw on very rugged terrain, often at high altitude, and around 65-75 days a year on skis for as long as I can remember. So, I wasn't exactly starting from scratch. However, I didn't start adding much running to the mix until July of this year.

We arrived on Thursday night with twice as much luggage as we had taken on a 2-month trip to Australia. What if I need this, or that? We had a great pre-race meal in Cassoday and met Jeff Cumblidge, who we had seen at Lean Horse, where he was doing his first 50k. Our daughters had a great time playing together, but his kids were with Grandma for this one. Bummer. He would step up to 50 miles at Heartland. I haven't seen his result yet, but he looked good at the turn, so I hope everything went well.

After a reasonable night's sleep (I woke up at 2:30, couldn't get back to sleep) of 5 hours, I got up to make final preparations. We woke up our very sleepy daughter (age 3-3/4, she'll tell you), chucked her in the car and made our way to the start with my father-in-law in tow. He and his wife would do some much needed babysitting, while my wife crewed, and paced me through the night. They drove all the way from Indiana to help out, and visit with us. Can't say enough how much it helped. We took a couple of pictures, exchanged hugs and got in the line up. I had tried hard not to really concentrate too much on the race, especially the distance ahead. I knew it was there, but never dwelled on it. I think this kept me in the moment, and surprisingly calm leading up to, and throughout the race. At 6:00 a.m., we were off!

The first hour or so went by quickly. I kept my headlamp off most of the time and settled in next to various runners and shared some of their beam. By 7:00, the sunrise was coming on strong. Nice color from some storm clouds off to the east. There were some dark clouds to the north. The forecast said they should stay there, but they seemed awfully close. The first aid station was Battle Creek. I made a quick stop for water in my pack (I mostly used a Nathan pack, with bladder, usually carrying 1-1.5 qts.), and a banana and small sandwich. My plan was to eat something at every manned aid station. My only problems at long distances in the past were not eating enough. By the time my stomach started feeling bad, it was too late to feed it. I knew there was no way I was going to run on Succeed and Ensure for upwards of 30 hours. So, I ate, and I ate often. Felt great!

As the miles ticked by, I remained in the zone. I ran/ walked something close to 5-1. I did carry a watch, a rarity for me. But, I rarely looked at it. I just did what felt good for a run/walk ratio. Of course, the hills dictated a lot of that timing for me. I reached Lapland at 9:39, right on a 13 min./mile pace. Awesome! My family met me there, and my daughter ran out to meet me yelling "Yea, Dad!" Couldn't ask for a better welcome. I had a banana, some sandwich and a yogurt. I topped off my water and headed out for Teterville at mile 25.

This is when the weather started to get interesting. The sun went away, and the storm clouds drew closer and closer. The thunder also got closer. Not the race to do in a thunderstorm, I kept thinking. There was nowhere to hide from lightning out here. But, there was nothing to do but keep going. As I came into Teterville, just 100 yards out, a huge bolt struck close by. I started to count: one thou... BOOM! It was close! Probably a hundred yards away. Then, the first of the heavier rains started. I stood under the hatch back, got some food and water, and changed to my larger UD pack. It carries a jacket and rain pants better. As I left the AS, the rain picked up in intensity, then petered out in a few minutes. For the next half hour, it was a little comedy of putting on my jacket because the rain got very heavy, then stopped. After a few minutes of no rain, I would take it off and stow it in my pack. At which time it would start to rain hard once more. It went back and forth like this several times. Then, the gumbo showed up. The soil was very clay-like. For about 45 minutes, I could not keep it off my shoes! I would kick it off, and immediately pick it up with the next step. I tried to walk on the gravel; it picked up gravel. I tried to walk on the grassy part; it picked up grass and made a lovely type of adobe. The added weight of several pounds per shoe was exhausting. Finally, I topped the final hill and the road started to dry. A few miles later, I reached Texaco Hill. Warm food and friendly faces.

The following 5 miles to Ridgeline was a bit of a low point. I could still manage to run/ walk, but the walking was starting to win. The balls of my feet were also starting to hurt from the continual pounding of the gravel. I did manage to pass a couple of runners on this stretch, which helped my mood. Occasionally, I thought " I can't do this for 65 more miles, not feeling like this". But, my wife was going to start pacing me at mile 65, about 30 miles ahead, and was very excited about it. Plus, I had dragged my family several hundred miles to be here. Quitting didn't really seem like an option. I'll just get to Ridgeline and see.

At Ridgeline, I got some Elastikon tape and taped up the balls of my feet, and ate some Prairie Power Pellets. The chef (Dave, I think) was adamant that they weren't beanie-weenies, but a secret blend of 15 beans with weenies floating on top. All I know is they were great. I had taken 3 1/2 hours to go 11.5 miles since Teterville. I had slowed considerably, but still on a 15-min./ mile pace, overall. If I stayed at that pace, I could finish in 25 hours. I ran out for the next 6 miles to Matfield feeling great, and ran 13-minute miles through the next section.

Miles 42-58 felt good. I ran strong, slowed to a brisk walk for the hills, and made the turn at mile 50 at 6:40 p.m. I had passed maybe a dozen runners since Ridgeline and was feeling great. At around 7:00, it was dark and I turned on my headlamp. I came back into Matfield at 8:25, fueled up, gave my daughter a good night hug and kiss and hit the road for the 6 miles back to Ridgeline. I expected to fly through this section like I had on the way out, but found it to be much more uphill on the return. I put on my I-pod for the first time and put it on cruise. It took me almost 2 hours for this leg, and

I could feel myself slowing from the fatigue of 16 hours on my feet.

At Ridgeline, my wife was geared up and ready. She helped fill up my water, get me food, extra batteries, etc. I can't say enough about her effort. She would spend hours driving and waiting, just to cater to my needs for 5-10 minutes at a time. Now, she was ready to go out for an 11-mile stretch with me, in the middle of the night. I felt very grateful and humbled. As we left, the road seemed to be a very long, gradual uphill. I couldn't seem to get into gear. Then, when it finally leveled out and started going downhill, we started to run. Almost immediately, I had a sharp pain in my left leg, around the top of my calf and the lower, outside of my knee. I could not run on it without a lot of pain. I could walk just fine. So, we walked. As we walked I started to yawn uncontrollably. I had a hard time holding a straight line while moving. I would weave a little from side to side. At one point, I held on to my wife's shoulder to steady myself while we walked. I told her that I finally understood how one could fall asleep while moving. All I wanted was to take a nap right there. The gravel road would have been just fine. As we got close to Texaco Hill, I said, "I just need a 20 minute nap there. I'll just lay down out of the wind and you can wake me up in 20 minutes".

The Texaco aid station was great. I improvised a knee strap with some tape, hoping it would put me back to run/ walk mode. My wife asked the AS folks if they thought a nap was a good idea. They didn't really answer. Probably not, I surmised. Instead I had a couple cups of Mtn. Dew. Ah, sweet nectar! I normally have a can of Dew after lunch most days. My maintenance dose, I call it. Love the sugar and caffeine. In fact, I'm having my lunchtime dessert as I write this. The Dew snapped me right out of it and I was ready to crank out some miles. I kept saying that I just couldn't imagine having to walk it in from here. This was one of my great fears about the race. But, truth be told, I'm a better walker/ hiker than a runner, so I suppose it was my strong suit.

The gumbo from earlier had dried out, thank goodness, and we moved along toward Teterville. We started to see a few lights behind us. I thought sure they would be blowing by us any minute, but we stayed ahead. In fact, other than aid stations, we were never passed the entire time, even though we were walking. As we came closer to Teterville, I really had to use the bathroom. This had happened about 3-4 times earlier in the day as well. I decided to wait and use the Prairie Potty at the AS. When we turned the corner, I said it would only be a 1/4 mile tops. As it turned out, it was a solid mile. I walked that uphill at a very good clip, thinking it must be just over the next roller each time.

I was a little worried to leave Teterville. I would do this section alone for the next 8.3 miles. My wife would leap frog with the car, and meet me at mile 83 for the final push to the finish. I wasn't sure I could keep my motivation going. I saw some folks come in just behind me who looked pretty bad. I figured I felt better than them. If they could keep it going so could I. My God! Another 25 miles. Let's see... at walking speed? No, I couldn't think it. I was well ahead of cutoffs, about an hour and a half. That was all that mattered. Then, the weirdest thing happened. I put on the I-pod again. Let's see.. Devo! Yeah, that's the ticket. I put on the first song, Uncontrollable Urge. I was pumped. I started running! I was running fast. I was probably running an 8-min./ mile pace, and I didn't feel any pain. I had bounced back, baby. Then, the song ended, the music got slower. I tried to get back to a reasonable pace, but the pain was back. It was ridiculous. I had run incredibly fast and pain free for 4 minutes and it was over now.

Adrenaline is an amazing thing. But, apparently, I was running out of it now. I was once again reduced to a brisk walk. So, on I walked.

At Lapland, I met my wife again. She had gotten 2 hours sleep and was ready as ever. I should mention that my wife had done her first marathon in 1999. We had both done a 50 miler during that same period. We both finished officially. But, our time was something like 27 hours. It snowed 8 inches during the race and by 12 hours (and 40-44 miles) we were both done. However, because they were running a 100 miler at the same time, we came back to finish our laps the next day. Yes, it was a finish. But, I never really considered it a very good effort for myself. Since these races, my wife had not gone more than 15 miles at one shot. The fact that she was about to go out for 17 miles, after ticking off 11 earlier in the night was a big leap for her. No problem, she said. I had some wonderful pancakes and bacon, a little more Dew, and off we went. It was 5:30 a.m. I'd been awake for 27 hours, and moving for almost 24. I was ready to be done.

The last miles seemed kind of dream-like. I was so tired; I would occasionally just sit down in the road for a minute or two. I intentionally wouldn't ask to stop. I thought she might not let me. But, as the sun started to rise I felt my energy rise with it. I tried several times to run. But, after a few steps, I would stop. The pain was still very prominent. I told myself I would not risk an injury to complete this race. Skiing is my first passion, and I was not going to give up any of my ski season to complete the race. So, walking was fine. I would just walk some more. Around 9:00, we reached the last manned aid station. I ate some Ramen, drank some Dew (aah, dew! mouth open in imitation of Homer Simpson). My wife said "We just went 8.6 miles in 4 hours. We've got less than 3 to do 8.2 more to finish before the cutoff". Let's go, I thought. I grabbed 4 cookies and a banana, and started to walk like a bat out of hell. I would not come all this way and be pulled the final miles. Or, even worse, finish after 30 hours. How stupid and pointless would that feel?

So, we walked, tried and failed to run a few times, walked some more. At 10:40, we saw the water tower, which was at the finish line. So close, we thought. Then, a woman came walking toward us. "You've got about 45 minutes from here". 45 minutes?! Are you kidding? But, there was still time. I was sure I would make it. It was getting warm, and windy, of course. With the exception of an hour or two before sunrise, the wind had blown the whole race, usually between15-30 mph. But the prairie was beautiful, and I tried to stay in the moment. I told my wife that this was the experience, right now. Once it was done, it was a buckle gathering dust. The experience was what I really wanted, not the trinket.

Finally, we turned the corner to the pavement. 1/3 mile to go. As we got closer, we could see Paige's dad, his wife Jane, and our beautiful daughter Ripley waiting for us. In true fashion, Ripley ran out to greet us. We crossed the line together at 29 hours and 22 minutes. I was done! I simply could not believe that I had just covered 100 miles. The idea had been planted in my head for years, ever since I read a story about Badwater. Had I really just run 100 miles? Oh Yeah! I sat down and cheered as the others behind me came in. I didn't realize it until the end, but one of the finishers behind me (who I had passed back and forth a few times) was a runner who had asked to drop at mile 50 (awesome rally Fred Matthews!). He had run the last 50 with another runner, whose name escapes me, pulling each other along. It seemed to me that the real drama at these races is often at the back of the pack.

At 1:00, the runners assembled for the awards. First place went to Paul DeWitt, from Colorado. He set a new course record of 14:30 (+/-). Unbelievable! He halved my time. Second went to Mark Henderson, amassing his 8th finish, including 5 wins and 3 second place finishes. Third went to Rob (can't recall his last name) from California, who was 3 minutes behind Mark. Rob was hoping to break 19 hours, he told me the night before. He broke 18 hours, and by a pretty good margin, I believe. Way to go, Rob! There were many other great performances, including some first time 100 milers, with times at, or under 24 hours. Me? I got a big, gawdy belt buckle with a buffalo on it. I love it! I never wear a belt, but I might have to buy one so I can strut my buckle at the next race. Uh oh, did I just say next race?

Prologue:

So far, my recovery seems good. I hurt like hell for the first day and a half. It was murder getting back home after a plane flight and a 3-hour drive home. Everything pooled in my legs and feet. After 4 days, I'm feeling pretty well, muscularly. My left leg is still a bit tender in the calf and knee area. Now, I plan to mostly sit around for a few weeks and pray for snow.

Joe Judd

Salida, CO