The Wasatch 100 Mile Endurance Run - To The Brink And Back

This weekend, I had the great pleasure of joining 275 ultrarunners for the 31^st running of the Wasatch 100 Mile Endurance Run in Midway, UT. This mountainous and beautiful course, with 53,000’ of vertical change at altitude, proved to be the toughest race I have ever attempted. It required my whole team of crew and pacers to get me to the finish under 30 hours, proving once again that these big races are truly team efforts. In short, it was an epic adventure shared with plenty of new friends.

(Wasatch 100 elevation chart)

I put my name in the lottery for Wasatch last year after quizzing a number of 100-miler veterans about “the most epic courses” they had experienced, and hearing Wasatch come up again and again. Reality set in when I got into the race, and those same people said “you’re one crazy bastard!”. Wha? But you said it was epic! “Well, epic yes, but I don’t think I would do it again…it’s relentless”. Ha! That’s what you get for asking ultrarunners.

The Wasatch 100 is EXTREME mountain adventuring. It’s nature unbounded, bold and vigorous, beyond what the human imagination is capable of conceiving. It is inescapably romantic, bursting with wonder, delight, and adventure. It is Sex On Fire. 

(Wasatch wildflowers in bloom)

In my mortal ignorance, I decided a regiment of daily double climbs to be worthy training to take on the 10,000'+ monsters of Wasatch. But I was smart enough to recruit my Dad to be Crew Captain, and was lucky enough to find locals Mick Jurynec (5^th last year) and Kirk Thomas (paced Mick last year) to help with pacing. I didn't have adequate time to acclimate, but I was healthy and ready, and eager to let this majestic course take everything I had and more.

(Crew Captain Larry Dunlap sends me off at 5am)

We hustled down to the 5am start, and I saw a lot of front runners getting their 'A' games ready. Karl Meltzer was miraculously back from a bulging disc that had taken him out of Hardrock a month ago, lining up with local Jared Campbell (who has done well here many times), Troy Howard (always a contender), Luke Nelson (back with a vengeance after a sub-24 finish last year), Evan Honeyfield (the odds-on favorite), Peter Lindgren (going for finish #10, faster every year), Becky Wheeler (2^nd Woman here last year), and Emily Judd all ready to roll. Weather looked good, so off we went!

The first 13 miles were a humbling climb, zig-zagging to the heavens on a windy ridge, and requiring all fours to get through “Chinscraper” at the top. I paced along with Franz Dill, a Grand Slammer looking to cap off a great season, who was from…La Honda, CA! That’s just a few miles from my house! Such a small world. We chatted until the altitude stole the stories from our breath.

(Hiking up towards Chinscraper)

(Getting there...)

(Why do they call it Chinscraper?)

(Watch that footing!)

I wasn’t worried about my finish time at this point, and was comfortable to find myself about 50 minutes behind the 24-hour pace at Francis Peak (mile 18). I had grand visions of getting the sub-24 “Cheetah” as the race approached, but quickly retreated to “let’s just finish” after pre-running some of the last 25 miles two days before the race. This race had A LOT of ups and downs in the final section, including named beasts like "The Dive" and "The Plunge", and it was clear that a conservative pace would be important to get through it. Best to be comfortably fast, and decide your goal pace as you go.

(The morning sun kicks in)

(Running the east side of the mountain ridge)

(Nettie is smiling and cruising fast!)

I met many great people as we ran along the ridge, including Nettie Pardue (from the Bay Area, trying her first 100) and Walter Edwards (getting teased from his buddies for his cheering section of attractive older women...something about Order of the Cougar?). I ran a few miles with Ironman Ben Brooks who was also giving the 100-miler his first go, as well as a spunky Rachel Woods from Squaw Valley (also her first 100), and an ever-positive Philip Hall. Geez, what's with all these 100-miler rookies going for the big time? It was good to have eager company as we alternated between exposed ridge trails and bushwacking through the backcountry.

(Sweet! Cell phone reception!)

(Aric Manning on his way to a sub-30 finish)

(Everyone is having fun!)

(Ben Brooks refuels on a climb...)

(....then charges the downhill)

I got to see Mick (who would later be my pacer at mile 75-100) as he and his wife Jen helped manage the Sessions aid station (mile 28). He filled me up, and I let him know all was good so far! Then Ben Brooks and I took a wrong turn soon after and added a bonus mile. Whoops. Yackity-yack, get off track!

The long, hot climbs to Swallow Rocks (mile 32) took a beating on me, and I ran out of water a mile short of the aid station. Quick math told me I was still drinking as fast as I could (~35 oz/hour), but the high altitude heat was sucking me dry. I slowed a bit, enjoying a few root beer popsicles before heading out.

(Hot climbs that keep going and going and going)

(Catra Corbett points out the best things about Swallow Rock aid staiton - popsicles! Photo courtesy of Andy Kumeta)

My Dad greeted me at Big Mountain (mile 40), but our smiles soon dropped when I stepped on the scale and found out I was 7.5 lbs light. Darn! At a pre-race weight of 156 lbs, I could only lose ~11 lbs before I hit the 7% weight loss limit, and apparently I was headed in that direction with gusto. I felt hot, but wasn’t showing too many other dehydration symptoms. My Dad got me cooled off with cool towels, and I pounded down coconut water, iced tea, and PB&J’s and hit the trail again, with Stevie Ray Vaughn playing on my iPod for some company.

(Phillip Hall gets throughs the steamy climb)

(Amazing views at every turn)

(The ridges get hot and exposed as we move forward)

(A little break, thanks to some new clouds forming)

Within the hour, the heat started to hang on me like a 600 lb gorilla with bad breath. Nausea forced up a bunch of liquid (so much for "trying to catch up on hydration"), and I found myself on all fours on the trail yacking up what few gels I had gotten down. Crap! I’ve been in trouble like this before in hot mountains, so with a bit of trail wisdom I concluded that a lack of acclimation was allowing the mountains to dehydrate me faster than I could take it in. As my Crew Captain says, "food is good, but hydration is essential". I needed to get out of the sun, pronto, and find whatever pace conserved the most hydration. I took a long, shady break at Alexander Ridge (mile 47), then scooted to Lambs Canyon (mile 53) where the scales spoke their evil truth again – I was down 9.5 lbs now.

(I lost 9 lbs in one day - ask me how)

Utah Jeff (a blog fan!) stopped by, using the extraordinary live runner tracking to come down from his house up the way to say hi. He helped my Dad and I assess the situation, and we realized it was time to take a good long break and let the sun come down a bit. I ate and drank everything I could get my hands on – a couple of iced teas, a couple of coconut waters, two ginger ales, two cups of soup, a candy bar – basically anything but gels. Then I sat there for 25 minutes and let my body absorb it. As dusk settled in, my Dad walked with me and I was feeling much better. Who knew the body could absorb so much! All it took was one 45 minute aid station break. ;-)

(The sun sets, and we strap on the lights)

As the sun set and I weaved up the trail, I found my second wind in the cool evening breezes along the creek. Phew! This section to Millcreek (mile 60) was much more runnable, and ended with a 3 mile stretch of road. My Dad was there to run/walk me in and hand me some poles that pacer Kirk Thomas had suggested. Hey, these are handy! I decided these would be good to take along as I changed into my full night gear.

(Super Pacers Kirk Thomas and Mick Jurynec)

Kirk was an angel in scrubs (his favorite night running pants), feeding me spaghetti and helping me get my night gear on, and we soon set out at a great pace to Dog Lake. Kirk was upbeat and funny, sharing stories of running marathons in the 70's with Irv, the evolution of mice genetics, and moose sightings on one of his many visits with his wife and dog to this canyon. He also had plenty of tips for using the poles that proved to increase both my uphill and downhill speed. We got soup by the fire at Desolation Lake (mile 67), charged through Scotts Pass (mile 70), and kept a brisk pace into the 35 degree cold to Brighton (mile 75). My speed and mood were great and I weighed in only 4 lbs down, a significant improvement over my 9.5 lb deficit. The only problem was this coffee-colored urine which is always an uncomfortable symptom to witness.

It’s great to have a former ER doc as a Crew Captain, and he quickly assessed that it was likely normal cell damage, and was pleased that there was ample quantity. We decided to keep an eye on it, and I took one last break to brush my teeth with the provided toothbrushes (sponsored by a local dentist - great idea!). Mick took over pacing duties, and after swiping my Dad’s sweatpants for some added warmth, we headed up the tallest climb of the day at 10,400’.

Mick was amazing as a pacer, and I realized what an unfair advantage it was to have him along. He knew exactly what was coming up along the dark ridges, but more importantly, he often paused to have me look over my shoulder at the long line of headlights to delight in how far we had come. Sure, I was fatigued, but our smiles lit the way in the wee hours of the morning. Of course, there were also plenty of stories of misspent youth, endurance achievements and plans that go horribly awry, travels, his charming adoration for his wife (Jen), and the pleasures of living in such a mecca for outdoor adventure. Such a great gift to have a big chunk time to do more than meet good people, but truly get to know them.

As we approached Pole Line (mile 83), the moonlight illuminated the wildflowers with an eerie ferocity, while the canopy of stars blended perfectly with a comet tail of headlighted runners along the ridge. Mick and I said nothing, just staring and smiling, letting it burn into our memory with the rhythm of our steps. By being present, we were connected to the cosmos, and all the stronger for it. This was a great spiritual moment!

(A borrowed photo, but you get the idea)

The second sunrise peaked over the hill as we took a brief stop at Rock Springs (mile 87) before tackling the gnarly sections of The Dive, The Plunge, Irv's Torture Chamber, and a Pot Bottom Trail that had been root-canaled by motorcycles. God...just...kill...me...now. I was VERY thankful to have the poles, which allowed some recovery to quads on the brink of locking up.

(The Plunge)

(I guess he needed a break!)

We persevered to the final aid station, Pot Bottom (mile 93). I looked at my watch and told Mick I didn't think we were going to make it under 30 hours...he said "plenty of time, just keep moving", and helped me strip down to warm weather gear. An enthusiastic 11-year-old volunteer named Justin escorted us up the next mile, showing us how to jump the creeks.

(Pot Bottom is steep and tricky)

We careened down a fire road that was as rocky and dusty as a coal chute before finally getting some soft single track and a mile of pavement to the finish. I felt good, picking up the pace to a whopping 9 min/mile, and finished in 29:35 for 69th place. Mick was right - plenty of time to spare! Mick shook my hand, and went off to run the last 3 miles of the Mid Mountain Marathon with his wife. Now that is a Super Pacer!

(Dad helps me run it in)

(We did it!)

(Sensory overload with a smile)

Race Director Irv was right there to shake my hand, and I was soon chugging chocolate milk and munching pancakes before stretching out on the grass. My head was spinning with sights, sounds, smells, laughs...what a day!

A few hours later, I caught a special moment as Dmitriy Kernasovskly and Sarah Stokes crossed the finish line together in a shower of rose petals, then walked to a tent with their friends and family and got married. Wow! If you can run an ultra together, I think that marriage is going to do just fine!

(RD Irv and Sarah's Dad greet Sarah and Dima as they cross the finish line)

(Then make it official!)

A quick nap, soak, and beer was all I needed to get stoked for the awards ceremony. Evan Honeyfield had won in 19:31 (3rd fastest ever), with Luke Nelson getting second in a sub-20 finish, and Karl Meltzer getting third in 20:59 (all results). Becky Wheeler won the Women's division in 25:53, with Emily Bell coming in an hour later. All in all, 13 had made the "Cheetah" under 24 hours, and succumbed to the induction ritual.

(Getting induced into the Order of the Cheetah)

(Ohio's Jay Smithberger picks up his plaque and sub-30 buckle)

I couldn't put into words my thanks to my crew, pacers, the great volunteers, Race Directors and Committee, and community of this great area for putting on a world class event. I congratulate all who gave it their all, no matter how they contributed. When I close my eyes, my heart sighs with visions of wildflowers under moonlight and the sounds of laughter with new friends.

(Plaque and sub-30 buckle; stoked!)

Thank you, Wasatch, for overfilling my soul!

- SD