Life’s best lessons are learned the hard way. In running, pain comes at you with a double barrel of mental and physical obstacles to deal with. Sometimes you are able to make a deal and come through the other side beaten, but not down. On occasion, the race teaches you that you are not such a big deal. Such might have been the case on January 24th for one of my best friends.
Matt and I have known each other since the days of high school running. He a Lincoln High Link and me running for the Southeast Knights. We really became friends in college via rock climbing and have continued that friendship through many an outdoor experience. Boston Marathon, random rock climbs, The Incline in Manitou Springs, and an ascent of the Grand Teton in one day.
As long as I have known him, he has wanted to attempt a 100 mile race. That dream came to fruition when he signed up for the 2015 Coldwater Rumble just outside of Phoenix, AZ. I was privileged that he asked me to crew for him. For those that don’t know, during races of this distance it is EXTREMELY helpful to have people helping you out at aid stations, base camps, and most importantly as a running partner and company during the last portion of the event when you are at your most exhausted.
So, my responsibility consisted of being there for a friend. No problems with that. More specifically I could help with any first aid he might have needed, refilling water bottles, discussion on the race itself, and really providing any support possible. The race did not go as planned.
Running in a multi-square mile recreation area, this event is part of a series of races. Topography is exactly what you picture for the area around Phoenix. No real epic climbs. But sandy washes, rocky trails, 4WD roads, and some standard single-track were on the menu for the 5 laps of 20 miles each. Featuring an hour glass shape with a “base-camp” at the top (see photo above), a major aid station in the middle, and a “basics” aid station at the bottom. Oh, and there were obviously plenty of cactus.
After the gun, I cruised back to the hotel for a huge breakfast in anticipation of my 40 miles of overnight running. Making it back in time for Matt to finish lap one, I was able to snap a few photos, talk to other runners who had finished previously (they had 4 mi, 20k, 52K, and 50mi events also), and generally take in the ambiance of a really low key race. Matt came in looking smooth, all things considered.
He looked real good, but he was only 20% done. It immediately became clear that he had gone through a rough one. As we refilled water bottles and got him some calories, I caught sight of some major wounds. He had caught a rock in the early morning sun glare, went down hard on his left shoulder, and decided to wrestle a cactus in the process. Scrapes, bruising, swelling (left shin/calf issues didn’t subside until a week had passed), and multiple cactus thorns sticking out of his skin were souvenirs of a true desert southwest experience. Slapping on sunscreen and hand san (jeesh!), he was off for lap two. Where things began to really go rough.
As he was out and about, I kept myself busy at base-camp. Organizing my gear, reading, napping, eating, and basically getting ready to keep him going after I joined him at mile 60. Lap one took him 3.5 hours or so. Lap two was closer to 5 hours. This averaged out to what he wanted, but the second lap really took its toll. Hotter than expected weather (80s), a cloudless sky, and a steady 30mph wind put dehydration and misery into full effect. He came around for the second lap finish not looking very psyched at all. Sat him down, got some fresh fruit and food to him, change of clothes. Convinced him to walk out for the start of a third lap. You go through bad patches in any race, but in a 100 miler these can last for sometime. From what I understand you are able to get through and be okay and I knew if he stopped at less than halfway he would never get over not trying.
Now Matt is one of the toughest guys I know in every sense of the word. Physical, mental, and spiritual dimensions are covered by the hombre. His parents joined me around sunset and his wife and kids came out a bit later. Seeing family would either keep him going or cause him to shut it down. I expected him to take 5.5 hours to get through lap three. Even when exhausted he and I can hike about 4 miles an hour, even at elevation. That time went. So did 6 hours. Then 7 came by. We started making plans for me to head out on the course. But even that would have been a coin toss as the course had two directions, either of which he could be coming from. Then at 7.5 hours, out of the dark, he came in. With a quick conference, he was done. After 15 hours of movement, 60 miles covered, and some serious mental hurdles to clear that was it. To say his family was relieved would be an understatement. I was ready to try and get him through, but I was not about to convince him of it.
Whenever I race, I try and learn something. Either good or bad. Considering I did not run a single step of this event, hard to tell what to take away.
-Running can be really shitty sometimes. Even after months of prep work and years of desire, it might not go your way. That is really a tough lesson to absorb. But it can make you a better runner and better yet an improved person.
-No way to train for weather. Especially living where we do. Race day can bring anything and there was ZERO way to prep for Phoenix living in Lincoln or Iowa City.
-You can be inspired without even racing. Seeing finishers hanging afterwards is always good for your spirit and karma.
-Trail running is not for everyone. If you want crowds or social media friendly treatment, forget it. My cell phone was freaking roaming and we were barely 20 minutes out of the city. The morning following I was hanging out and this absolutely randomly came in finishing the 100 miler. It was 28 hours after the race had started. The only person at the finish line was a volunteer manning the results computer. There were some people waiting for other finishers and the food area folks (who absolutely rocked by the way). But here she comes on the end of completing something that I don’t know how few people even contemplate attempting. No one there. You don’t do this crap for any reason other than to see if you can.
-I might attempt a 100 miler someday. Or I might not. But I might. . .