Um yeah.  13 hours.  Asphalt.  Unsupported.  On a lark.

 

World class.

 

Heh

 

Dang!  Just a "long run"???

Well, the deed is done. Thanks to all for your help. I finished in 26 hours, not quite making the sub-24 for which I was hoping. However, the realities of race day had shown to be harsher than most expected. At 5 am there was no chill in the air and the temperature was about 70 degrees. It had rained all night before and the humidity hung in the air like an oppressive blanket. The heat of the day rose to about 85-87 degrees with the humidity (90-100 percent, best guess) continuing to hang around like an unwanted house guest. It was taxing. So taxing in fact that I finished ahead of at least two of the races previous winners. One of them dropped at 63 miles, the other (who was also going for his 1000 mile buckle) came in almost an hour behind me. The overall winner finished only 7 seconds below 20 hours. I was later told that the aid station near 50 miles looked like a war zone, bodies littered everywhere. I hadn't noticed since my vision had already tunneled and I was trying not to think about the heat and humidity. Overall, of the 154 or so people who started, only 69 finished.

My feet were a mess the last quarter of the race (I even have a picture for the interested). The race description promised one river crossing, but there (and can we include streams in this statement?) were at least four. I had prepared for the promised crossing with dry socks at the next aid station. But alas, it would be wet socks for the remainder. First, the feet pruned. Then they pruned some more. Then the folds of skin folded over and I was running on (what other than) folded skin. That hurt, and the certainty of the discomfort was reassured with every step.

But I had a blast. There is something surreal about watching the sun rise and fall and rise again while one is running. It is amazing the boost of energy, the quickness of step that comes with the sunrise and only a couple of miles to go. It may perhaps be the most primal, existential feeling. Trail running and navigating in the dark was both exciting and sometimes irritating, but always exhilarating--especially staring across a river crossing, trying to find a break where the trail picks up, and starting to panic (get a little restless) that a wrong turn had been made several miles ago.

And in the end, I was not kicked by a moose (K Meltzer at Bighorn), but I was stared down by a vicious tree-dwelling animal with glowing eyes in the middle of the night.

Congratulations on the race the race thats an amazing accompishment, lets see the picture of the feet!!!

SWEET!  Congrats on hanging through those tough conditions!  Humidity is really challenging!

 

Rest well.

 

Lynn B

S'alright, I've had my lunch

 

How are they feeling now?