Bear 100 race report
With several
months of training under my belt, I approached 100-mile race with nervous
confidence. After all, I was going into
unknown territory. I had completed two 50-mile
runs during this calendar year but that was just half of what I was about to
take on. Adding to my anxiety was the
fact that my brother had suffered a brain stem stroke just one week prior to
race day. He has recovered remarkably
and was able to re-gain strength in his right side and speak clearly after just
3 days in the hospital.
The fact my
brother had experienced such a terrifying event at the young age of 42 made me
even further realize that I’m very lucky to be able to take on such a monstrous
challenge. I also decided that it was
going to take something pretty serious for me to drop out of this race. In the
big scope of things, we’re not talking about life or death with a race. Sure, it’s painful and pushes a person to
their absolute limits but it’s nothing compared to the challenges people don’t
choose to take on.
On with the story,
the first 36 miles to the Rt Hand Fork aid station were relatively
uneventful. I was cruising along at a
moderate pace and was on my projected pace for the first few aid stations. My approach was pretty simple; start out slow
and steady, keep moving, hydrate well and avoid “sweet,” calories (sweet seems
to turn my stomach after a few hours). I
stuck to this plan and pretty much drank straight water and used Perpetuem for
energy. In my drop bags I had an
assortment of jerky, nuts, Payday candy bars and a few sweets in case I had a
craving.
Not Leatham Hollow but a pretty cool picture from an area nearby |
At mile 36 I
picked up Corey Vigil who was planning to pace me from Rt Hand Fork to Tony
Grove. All was going well and we kept a
pretty good pace up through Temple Fork aid station. Just past this aid station was the first time
the Bear took a swing at me. Nausea was starting
to set in and we had about 2800’ of elevation gain over the next 5 miles
staring back at us. Suddenly, nausea
turned to full on vomiting. It started
as just a little puking at first and we would press on. A friend of mine who is a physician assistant
caught up to me and gave me some Zofran (nausea medication) and advised me to
place it under my tongue. It was very
bitter and led to very violent puking, which turned to dry heaving when
everything available in my stomach had been purged.
Not feeling well here |
This aid station I was given the royal treatment. I was both surprised and grateful to all the people attending to my needs. Aric Manning had a chair out for me, Jim Skaggs was fetching me food from the aid station and Dan Frey was getting my gear ready for the next section. An additional bonus at this aid station was my wife, 3 daughters and my mother had made their way to the aid station to greet me.
Happy Birthday Dano! |
We had a good
laugh and I sang the happy birthday song to him and we were off again. We both kept our hats on for the next couple
of miles. The next section had a lot of
downhill in which we walked some ran some ultimately making it to the Franklin
aid station.
These were great, I had them in all my drop bags |
Dan and I got out
of Franklin pretty quickly and began yet another long climb and I was getting
tired. I don’t even remember the last
time I had stayed awake over 24 hours.
My body began revolting to this whole no sleep thing. That’s when the yawning began and continued
over the next couple of hours. Into the
darkness, we continued trudging along.
We made our way over to Logan River aid station.
This aid station
turned out to be one of my most memorable.
They had a fire going, chairs set up and most importantly had grilled
cheese sandwiches that were fresh off the grill! For some reason they tasted like the best
thing I had ever eaten. I had 2, warmed
up by the fire a bit and we were off again.
The next section included about a 1000’ climb to Preston pass followed
by a descent to Beaver Mountain where I picked up pacer #3.
Pacer number 3 was
Aric Manning aka Manners. His job was
pretty much whipping boy. I was in no
mood for running and pretty much walked most of the last 25 miles to the
finish. I was fatigued and in the mood
for this adventure to be over. Aric was
great at trying to keep me motivated.
These last 25 ‘ish miles are pretty blurry. However, it was the first time during the
race I had experienced hallucinations.
Seeing things that weren't there |
I’ve heard it can
happen but have never actually experienced the bizarre phenomenon of sober
hallucinations. At one point I stopped
Manners and was trying to point out the largest bull elk I had ever seen. He played along for a moment and was really
looking for this figment of my imagination.
I insistently kept pointing out what clearly wasn’t there. As it turns out, I was actually looking at an
old dead tree and my mind was filling in the gaps. Hallucination number two happened around mile
90. I stopped Manners and asked him why
there was a car in the meadow ahead with a man out playing with his young child. Again, he had a puzzled look on his face and
urged me to consume more calories and keep myself hydrated. I can’t even explain hallucination number
two. It seemed so real to me.
At this point I am
pretty much on a zombie death march. The
thought of quitting never even entered my mind.
The thought of finishing and being able to rest did cross my mind a lot. Thanks to several chunks of grilled Italian
sausage wrapped in pancakes at the Beaver Creek aid station, I was able to
grind out the next few miles to the Ranger Dip aid station. I was in and out of Ranger Dip pretty quickly
and now heading up the steepest climb of the entire 100-mile excursion (Thanks
for saving that for mile 93).
The climb out of
Ranger was a grind. I tried to keep
moving. However, fatigue was taking its
toll. I slowly ascended with
intermittent stops along the way.
Relieved to see the top I knew the rest of this run was pretty much
downhill. There was just one problem, at
this point my legs were so fatigued that it was all I could do to just try to
trot once in a while. I had heard that
many people feel the end is near and find a new gear. That was just the case with my friend Joel
Hatch who came flying by me with such exuberance that he actually jumped and
clicked his heels over a knoll just ahead of us.
I wanted to join
Joel in his bolt to the finish but just couldn’t. At this point I was beaten down. I knew I was going to finish but just could
muster up the ability to string together more that about 100 yards of running
at a time. So we mostly walked to the
road where I began to trot. This is
where we ran into BJ aka “Squeaver.” I
was so happy to realize this journey was officially about over. Manners and Squeaver got me to near the
finish line and then peeled off to allow me to cross the line. It was great seeing the crowds of people and
all the HUMR’s cheering me on.
I crossed the line,
shook the race director’s hand and realized I DID IT! My first 100-miler was in the books. My wife and 3 daughters greeted me and were
happy to see me finish this long journey safely. I was escorted over to a chair where I was
once again given great treatment. My
daughters pulled my shoes and socks of and helped clean me up and get changed
into some clean clothes while others were getting me food and drinks and making
sure I was comfortable.
This was definitely an adventure I won’t soon forget. The course was beautiful and the aid stations were friendly, helpful and well stocked. Also, kudos to the Bear 100 organizers for one of the best post race meals ever.