Joel could not have been more right when he said "nothing else compares to Hardrock". Within minutes after the start of the run, you climb into this beautiful painting and enter a world living a dream where everything and everyone seems to be different than they where only a short time before. This year was my third time at Hardrock, I have come to know and recognize the surreal appeal of the surroundings but I still search for what is behind the magic of this very special place. The shear beauty is overwhelming, but that is obvious, everyone recognizes it, appreciates it and is just as spellbound by it as I am. What strikes me about Hardrock is that it is impossible to participate in this run and not come back as a changed and somewhat different person. The spectacular beauty and vast wilderness in a totally enormous setting can only make a person feel very small, but I search for what is behind the obvious.
I know the answer is in the people who a part of the Hardrock run. Hardrock has a way of stripping the facade and barriers from people so that you can clearly see what is underneath. This year, unselfishness came out loud and clear, I saw it over and over again. I will apologize up front to those who I may embarrass but sorry, I can't keep quiet on this. Starting with Dale Garland the RD, Dale is a very accomplished ultra runner who can no longer run. Rather than whine about it, Dale works 12 months of the year and puts his energy into making Hardrock the best trail ultra in the world. It shows in every way, but where I really see what goes on is Dale constantly asking questions, getting feedback and criticism from others only for the purpose of making it better. Not for himself but so that everyone can enjoy the experience to the fullest.
Carolyn Erdman only knows how to give. This was her third attempt at Hardrock. Instead of being self absorbed in her run, it was more important for her to get a huge cake and flowers for Dale's wife because it was her 40th birthday during the race weekend. Carolyn opened her home to me over the weekend and what I saw was really amazing. From the time I got there to the time I left, there was a continuous flow of cards, gifts, flowers, plants and on and on from people wishing Carolyn well in the race. I knew that this was only a minor reflection of what she had done for others in the past.
At mile 42, the Grouse Gulch aid station, there is a husband and wife, Jim and Mariana Cusick who have been running that aid station every year of this race. Jim and Mariana are runners but not ultra runners, yet they are extraordinarily unselfish in what that have given to this race. They don't just run an aid station, the thing is out in the wilderness and you feel like you've just arrived at a resort. There is a volunteer for everyone and always a huge menu of food. I can only imagine that before the race, they don't settle for the standard race fare but take it upon themselves to go out and load up on things that they hope people will enjoy eating.
Along the way and at many races, there is a man I've come to know and have greatly benefited from, he is Warren LaForme. I see Warren a lot because his wife Ginny tends to run fairly close to me during these runs and Warren is at every aid station ready to help. I am very fortunate because Warren is always there for me just because he want's to help. I'm not talking about just getting me something to drink but baby-sitting and insisting I do what is best for me. In spite of my whining or protests, Warren is there trying to get me to eat and help in any way he can.
My pacer Peter Bakwin is as modest as they come. He is a front of the pack runner, while I'm near the back but you would never know it by who he chooses to train with. He volunteered to pace me at Hardrock months ago to see the course. Rather than just show up on race day, he insisted on training with me at my convenience which happens to be 5 AM at my house. This was for the purpose of getting to know me and I'm sure to be better able to help me on race day. Peter is planning on going for the speed record on the John Muir Trail in a few weeks. When it became apparent that I was struggling and Peter was going to be out there a lot long than planned, Peter hung with it, in spite of the fact that he was concerned he may be jeopardizing his own chances on JMT. Then when I finally did drop, Peter also had an opportunity to drop, but stayed out there with a friend of mine who ran with me for the first 89 miles to see to it that he got in OK.
My friend is Doug McInturff. Doug has thrown races before in order to stay with me and help me out. Doug is clearly a better runner than I am but refuses to run on ahead of me. He would rather see it to the finish together than worry about his time. After he left me for the last 12 mile stretch, the weather got nasty and instead of just plowing on to the finish, Doug was up on Putnam Pass herding people who where lost down to safety. Like a shepherd, he had a line of 6 or 8 lost sheep following him down to safety from high above. He clearly spent much time and energy seeing to it that others where OK, never worrying about his own run.
The moment of my race came at Grant-Swamp pass, about 85 miles into the race. I was exhausted, cold with a bad storm threatening to send me into hypothermia. I was having a wonderful run from the start to mile 65. I had trained harder than I ever did before and was attempting to have a run of my lifetime. My goal was to do more in this run than finish. I wanted to really push my limit, taking a risk but trying to discover just how far I could go. During the race, I had a strategy that I knew was on the edge. I couldn't afford any adverse variables like the weather at the end or it wouldn't happen. For the first 65 miles, I followed my plan of a sub 40 hour run to the second. It was beautiful, almost like working on a piece of art. Not long after 65 miles, it became clear that my plan was more aggressive than my limit could handle and things started to deteriorate. What was amazing, is the engine was still really good, my muscles felt great, etc. It was just a series of classic symptoms from overdoing it at altitude. My stomach started to get queasy which led to not eating enough which led to lack of energy which led to a slow pace and ultimately exhaustion.
While climbing to the base of Grant-Swamp pass, I could barely move. Two steps, then rest, it was pathetic. I looked up at the mighty pass before me which has about a 65 degree pitch and climbs 700 or 800 feet into the clouds at 13,000 feet and I wondered, how is this going to be possible? The clouds where getting dark and you could hear thunder in the distance. I was wasted and the whole thing was so intimidating, I felt so small and weak in such an impossible situation. I looked up to the top of the pass where I knew Joel's plaque was and out loud I asked for Joel's help. Peter asked if that was OK with the race rules and I responded I'm sure Dale will understand. In the meantime, someone was climbing the pass way off the trail and heading for cliffs with no apparent way up or down. I was convinced he was going to fall and there was nothing I could do to help. Again I asked for Joel's help to guide this person to the top and to safety. In what seemed to be no time at all, with rocks crashing down everywhere from the cliffs above, the man in trouble found his way to the top. Shortly after that, I too was on the top, perplexed and wondering how I did that with such ease and apparently lack of effort. All I could think of was to say, "thanks Joel".
By now, Peter and Doug where really concerned because a nasty storm blew in just as I was cresting the top. The temperature dropped dramatically and lightening was everywhere, it was really bad. We hurried down from the top to safety with me looking over my shoulder wondering where Joel's plaque was. I had been waiting for a year to see Joel's memorial and never got to see it.
On the way to the next aid station the weather just got worse. I was really exhausted from pushing a time beyond my limit and not being able to eat for hours. I thought of what had just gone on at Grant-Swamp pass, at all that had gone on over the course of the race and knew I had learned much. The message was loud and clear, what kept coming back to me is that it was my turn to stop being selfish and to follow the example of all the others who taught me over the last two days.
Choosing to drop at 89.6 miles with 10 hrs left in the race would not have been a decision I would have made a few years ago, maybe not even last year. This was my 11th 100 miler, my 3rd Hardrock and I have never DNF'd in a race in the 30 years I have been running. This was one of the most difficult decisions I have ever had to make in my life. I looked around at all the beauty and looked at my two very special and wonderful friends and it became an easy choice, I was not going to be selfish. I was not going to go up on the next pass exhausted and cold and jeopardize their safety being stuck with me who probably would go hypothermic. I was not going to be selfish and risk leaving my family without a father and husband. As difficult as the decision was, it was an easy one to make. I would not put myself before my family or my friends.
When I arrived at the aid station which really doesn't have crew access, I didn't know how I was going to get out of there. Hans Dieter's wife was there ready to give me a ride back to Silverton, where did she come from? I could have been there all night waiting for a ride. She was there to see Hans but then waited for me to get warm and rested before heading back to the car, a final act of unselfishness.
As I think back over the run, the experience was so full and rich I realize that I have nothing to be upset about. I got far more than I bargained for, it just came a few miles before the finish. I doubt I will ever forget this run, it was clearly one of the most powerful running experiences I have ever had. No, I won't have my name listed in the results but I come away from the race learning a tremendous amount which hopefully will make me a better person.
I have found what is behind Hardrock, it is it's magnificent beauty, not in the physical surroundings put in all of the people who are part of it.
I have only one disappointment, I never got to see Joel's plaque.
Dana
Dana Roueche
Boulder, CO
danar@us.ibm.com
tieline: 419-7020, 6-7020
Outside line: 303-354-7020
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