March 24, 2007
The Great Salt Lake in Utah is a wonder of the world. It is about 75 miles long and 28 miles wide. This massive salt-water lake has more salinity than the ocean (3-5 times), to the point that you can float in it. The only creatures that live in the lake are small insect-like brine shrimp. The lake has no outlets and its level can fluctuate greatly from year to year depending on the runoff. In the early 1980s, heavy runoff caused the lake to overflow its usual boundaries to cover roads, ranches, and cause much destruction of developed land and structures. Other years, like this year, the lake is much lower.
Skaggs photo
Within this lake are several islands, the largest being Antelope Island, 15 miles long and 5 miles wide, with a high peak, Frary Peek rising 2,300 feet above the lake surface. Just 15 miles to the east, rises the immense snow-covered Wasatch Mountain Range, home of the Wasatch Front 100-mile race.
The race is in its second year and this year offered three distances, 25K, 50k, and 50 miles. I signed up for the 50-mile race and knew that the new course would be mostly fast, a great chance to set a PR (Personal Record). The 50-mile course ran north to south and back, over the entire length of the island.
I arrived at the island on Friday afternoon and helped race director, Jim Skaggs, set up the start/finish area. The island has few trees, mostly grasses and low bushes. Some would describe it as barren and desolate, but to me it looked like a wonderful preserve where buffalo, deer, and antelope truly play. You can see for miles. From the start/finish area, I gazed across the island and the lake. I was surprised to see how much lower the lake level was compared to last year. The water was far from the shoreline, leaving salt flats in its place. I spied several antelope nearby moving together across a field.
From there, I went to the race registration area, across the causeway on the shore of the lake, to help pass out race packets. I enjoyed welcoming running friends and making new acquaintances. In almost every instance when I mentioned my name, I would be greeted by smiles and excitement from those who have enjoyed reading my many crazy running stories posted on the Internet. Instantly I made new friends. What a great sport this is!
221 runners were entered in the races, 73 for the 25k, 74 for the 50k, and 74 for the 50-mile. The average age for all races was 42 years old. The entrants came from far and wide, 16 states. The course was well-marked and the state park officials were very supportive and excited about the event. Race Director Jim Skaggs had concentrated on every detail and it looked like everything was ready to go.
I stayed in a nearby motel and my older, but wiser brother, Bob, arrived later in the evening from California. He was nervous about his first attempt at the 50-mile distance. He has been battling a back problem and had to cut back on his training, but he was here, ready to give his best effort. I felt ready. Three weeks ago I set a PR for the 100-mile distance, running on the Pony Express trail. I had only put in 62 miles since, so felt well rested and ready.
My goals for this race were: 1. Set a PR (beat 9:48), 2. Finish in at least 9:22, 3. Place in the top 10. My brother’s goal was to finish. He asked what his options were if he was 25 miles out on the course and couldn’t continue. I refused to answer that question, not wanting him to think about DNF options.
In the morning, we made the long dark drive across the causeway to Antelope Island. We were able to park very close to the start line and stayed warm in the car until Jim Skaggs briefed us on the course. He had to make a last minute course change because the park rangers discovered that some shore birds were nesting near an area of the course that would involve a bushwhack. Instead we would do a two-mile out-and-back the single track
Dawn is arriving
The next few miles were my favorite portion of the course. I delighted in running on the rolling, soft single-track that followed the shoreline. As we curved around the shoreline, more city lights could be seen far in the distance and the sky started to glow from the rising sun behind the Wasatch Mountains. The pleasant sounds of birds started to cheep from the bushes down toward the shoreline. It was a wonderful morning to be running.
The trail toward Frary Peak
Ahead of me, the lights from the lead pack disappeared out of sight. They were pushing a good hard pace. I could see lights behind me and I pushed harder to create a bigger gap. I turned out my light before the dawn arrived, to take away a chasing target for the runners behind. The air quickly became warmer and I removed my gloves and unzipped my jacket. My pace continued to feel strong and fast. As the first aid station (Lower Frary, mile 7.9) came into view, I stripped off my jacket, hoping for a very fast aid station stop. I arrived at the 1:22 mark, ten minutes behind my unrealistic first-leg pace goal. I called out a greeting to Larry Mangum, the aid station captain, and he quickly refilled my water bottle. I was off and running before the runners behind me approached. But they were getting closer.
A golden field
The next leg continued above the shoreline to the south, toward the historic Fielding Garr Ranch established in 1848. The trail crossed the main road a couple of times. I soon experienced a discouraging problem. A neuroma in the ball of my right foot started to act up. I had not had this problem for nine months. The nerves bind together and shoot terrible pain up into the toes. Soon it felt like there was a small pebble under the foot, but I knew it was just the nerve irritation. I tried my best to alter my stride to avoid the terrible pain. But with past experience, I knew that the pain would calm down within an hour. I would just have to grin and bear it. Because of this, my pace did decrease and soon three runners caught up and passed me.
The climb up
The next aid station arrived sooner than I expected. I arrived at Fielding Garr Ranch (mile 14.7) at the 2:15 mark. I was pleased to see that I was seven minutes ahead of my pacing goal. Another runner passed me right before the station, but I had a faster transition and quickly left him behind at the ranch. Next up would be a 3-mile 1,000-foot climb up to the top of a high ridge. The leading woman (Birgitta Johnson) and eventual winner caught up with me on the climb and continued on at a slow, but constant running pace up the mountain. I did my best to keep the pace strong. I was pleased to discover the pain in my foot went away as my stride changed. I delighted in using uphill muscles after that long and fast 15 miles of mostly flat terrain.
View from the top
As the road switched back toward the north, incredible views unfolded from below. We could see the ranch far below and if I looked carefully, I could see a string of tiny runners on the road leading up the mountain. The view was wonderful looking down on expansive fields that extended to the shoreline of the salty lake. This climb was an out and back with a 1.5 mile loop at the top. Before I reached the beginning of the loop, the first three leaders came running toward me down the trail. I estimated that they were at least two miles ahead of me. I looked forward to making my way through the loop. I was curious to know how my brother was progressing. I reached the Sentry aid station (mile 17.8) at the 2:56 mark, eleven minutes ahead of my pace goal. A runner who had followed closely behind me arrived a minute later. It was my running buddy, Jarom Thurston. He was surprised to see me, thinking I was behind. We left the station together and enjoyed the winding single-track horse trail along the top of a ridge. We could now see the other side of the island and the expansive lake disappearing to the west. I looked back to the northwest and could see the valley in the distance that the 25k and 50k runners were surely going through.
The downhill run was a delight, but I didn’t have the foot speed at this point to keep up with young and fast Jarom. I reached the end of the loop and started to greet runners making their way up the hill. I estimated that my brother would probably be at least a couple miles behind so I anticipated running into him. I saw plenty of happy, tired faces on the trail up, but no Bob. Wow, he must have been on the loop at the same time as me and thus was less than 1.5 miles behind. I came upon Matt Watts, who snapped a picture of me. He was about three miles behind.
The road toward the south end of the island
The next leg was on a nice dirt road that reminded me of the 100-mile run on the Pony Express trail three weeks earlier. My legs noticed the familiar terrain and I was able to make good time along this stretch. I kept Jarom in view most of the time and I could see that he was running near the leading woman ahead. With the breeze at our backs and the sun in our face, the temperature started to feel very warm. As I neared two miles before the turnaround at the far south end of the island, I thought, “Gee I should see the leaders soon.” Right after thinking that, they quickly appeared, at least four miles ahead of me. The guy in the lead called me by name and gave me words of encouragement. I was feeling great. For the last hour no runners had passed me.
Approaching Turnaround aid station
I carefully counted all of the runners who were heading in the other direction and discovered that I was running in 11th place. I was in good position for my top-10 goal. I greeted Jarom a few hundred yards from the aid station. I arrived at the Turnaround aid station (mile 25.9) at the 4:16 mark, now 17 minutes ahead of me pace goal. As I chugged down cups of coke, a volunteer was amazed and thought that it would kill me. I assured him that it was fine. Off I went, now heading north with a nice cool breeze in face and the sun on my back. I reached the marathon distance at about 4:20. I felt good about that considering the tough three-mile climb.
Within ten minutes I was shocked to see my brother! We didn’t stop, but I quickly told him that he was going very fast. Wow, he was only about 20 minutes behind, and less than two miles. He was looking great and only about five runners behind me. He was running near some very experienced ultra runners. I kept wondering if he could keep it up. Would he crash and burn by the time he reached 30 miles?
As I continued on, my pace started to slow. I was still feeling fine, but just couldn’t keep up the same fast pace. A couple runners passed me during this stretch. I looked forward to doing the climb again, confident that the downhill would help me get into a good rhythm again. I enjoyed having the out-and-back layout of the course because I could greet friends on the way back.
Me, running down the hill
Matt was now about five miles behind. I now knew what to expect from the climb and grinded my way up the hill. I returned to Sentry aid station (mile 34) at 5:55, 22 minutes ahead of my goal. I realized that by being 22 minutes ahead of my goal, that breaking 9 hours was possible. I cruised back down the hill but didn’t expect to see my brother. I didn’t. That meant that he was still running well, less than 1.5 miles behind. Wow! Matt snapped the above picture of me as I passed.
The Fielding Garr ranch (mile 37.1) was full of tourists and race spectators. I arrived there at 6:39, 13 minutes ahead of my goal. I didn’t pound the downhill as fast as expected. I noticed a runner down on the grass trying to stretch out painful cramps.
OK, just 13 miles left. It was time to just suck it up, avoid the temptation to be lazy, and do my best to finish strong. After the stop, it took me about a mile to finally find a strong running gear again. I was pleased that I was still avoiding “the ultra shuffle” and kept a true run going, even on the mild uphills. I discovered that I could actually run faster as the trail ascended. For the next several miles I leap-frogged with Milada Copeland and Bill Andrews. With a mile to go before the next aid station, I ran out of fluid and started to feel a cramp in my left calf. My pace started to slow again. I arrived at Lower Frary (mile 44) at 7:47, 24 minutes ahead of my pace goal. Could I cover the last six miles in 1:13 to break 9 hours? It was very possible.
Me in yellow shirt being passed by two runners
Thurston photo
I was in the home stretch. There were mileage markers along the trail and I noticed that I was maintaining 12-minute miles. But, I was losing competitive motivation to really push it into higher gears. I kept thinking about my scheduled 150-miler in three weeks at McNaughton. I didn’t want to jeopardize that race by risking injury (a logical excuse to be lazy) so I finally just backed off a little and set a final goal to break my 50-mile PR by 30 minutes. To do that, I needed to finish before 9:18. As I hit the final climb, two runners (Phil Purdy and Scott Mason) caught up and passed me.
Thurston photo
After cresting the hill, I spotted a loan buffalo, the only one I spied during the run. On the long final downhill I could see three runners only 200 yards or so ahead. To get that top-ten finish, I probably needed to pass all three. The finish area, less than 1.5 miles away was clearly in view. I could also see some back-of-the pack 50K runners coming down the 50K course hill, heading toward the same finish. I kicked it into a higher gear, but just couldn’t dig deep enough. I kept a close eye in my “rear view mirror” and became content to not let another runner pass me. I knew I had plenty of energy left for a long sprint, but really didn’t want to do it. The finish line came into view and cheers from the crowd greeted me.
I crossed the finish line in 9:16, 16th place. I also placed 3rd in the 40-49 age group. Everyone who finished ahead of me was younger. 64 total runners finished. I was pleased and felt very fine, full of energy for just finishing 50 miles. I found race director Jim Skaggs and congratulated him on putting on a super race. I really enjoyed the experience. Jarom was sitting in a chair nearby and we traded stories. He finished with a great time, 8:57.
In just 22 minutes later, who crossed the line? My brother, Bob! Wow, a 9:38 finish in his first 50-mile race, and second ultra. He placed second in his age group. I was very impressed. We both were surprised that he never bonked. I’m sure the ideal running conditions probably helped. We both chowed down on the wonderful buffalo hobo stew. It was excellent and perfect food for race recovery. Matt arrived about an hour later and he helped me tease Bob about how he should next step up to running a 100-miler. Matt and I quietly reflected on the huge challenge that we had in three weeks, to run 150 miles. It made me nervous just to think about it. We enjoyed cheering others as they crossed the finish for another hour and then bid goodbye to our running friends, both new and old. We’ll be back next year!