Subject: AC100 '96 report Date: Tue, 19 Jan 1999 12:21:54 -0800 From: "Larry Gassan" First, I owe plenty to the following people: Tina Walter: Ace crew goddess. Patient, resourceful, even-tempered, and just too tasty for words in her little halter top. Her continued clear observations and encouragements made the difference. Jim O'Brien: Coach, Mentor, and most excellent "anchor" pacer. As I said at the awards ceremony, that night was a master-class in running. I found out that I had come a long way, and that there is much more to learn. Dana Taylor: Friend, pacer 1, who pushed when needed and knew that the best way for me to forget about my personal discomfort was to let me talk about myself. I only cried when he told me how big he really was. Dave Turner: Friend, training partner, the other "karma squirrel". Long days of heat dust and dreams, and for what? An ice-cold coke in a sweaty cooler in the back of his truck. Hey! what else is there? Made some of those 35mi days only seem like 35 mile days. Jeff Robbins: Who willingly met me at Chantry Flats on Labor Day weekend so I could do a 35mi point-to-point, when we all know that Chantry Flats is 60mi from that day's starting point. Who most expertly massaged and helped pummel my narrow ass up and out of the chairs as needed, *before pacing Duke Bartoo* for the remainder of his 28 hour day. Tonya & Bruce Mauldin: For your consistent encouragement and support. Tonya made persuasive encouragements as only a lawyer knows how. Something about framing the argument... Nancy Tinker: Nancy the local gal who knows first-hand how high the mountains and how low the arches; her help in matters running and orthotic was immeasurable. Chip Parsons: The Indiana ultra-stud in whose vapor trail I have aspired all these years, dating back to the summer of '93 when I could only get 20min of solitary trail time before he would overtake me and leave me choking in his dust. I thought about him a lot this race. Finally, the support and (glad it's not me!) smiles of ultra-friends and others, who include but are not limited to Sandy Israel, Bruce Hoff, Al "Downhill" Solish, John Demorest, Kirk Boisseree and "Tropical" John Medinger, (for his e-mail humor insertions). From Team Blarney: Caz Sliczowicz, Kathryn Rubin, "Fast Eddie" Knapp and "Big Dave" Nemeth for chasing my ass around the track doing those repeats. I used every one of those techniques, especially in the last 5 miles... OK. Details. 23hr50min, 17th overall. It was an interesting day. A good start in the first 30 mi led to a 30-45 min buffer ahead of schedule up through 56 miles, despite dehydrating queasiness from mile 30-56. Here the intensive training really paid off, because it was habit that got me through the dead spots. I later caught people who passed me here. I made 75mi by 9:15pm, which was almost an hour ahead of the schedule. Dana Taylor had taken me from a paper-voiced greyness at 53mi (Chilao Flats) to a more fully hydrated raisin at Chantry (75mi). Lots of power-walking and open-stride downhill, not getting lost in the black pit that is Santa Anita Cyn. Met Jim and the entire crew at Chantry, and knew that the real work would begin. The night was so warm that I stayed in my cotton long-sleeve, and even that was almost too warm. Now there's a 3000' climb to Mt Wilson Toll Road. Two hours total; one to the Manzanita Ridge, and another up *the Worst* climbs of the entire run to the toll road. I lost my lunch twice on that segment. Both times Jim said it was OK (no solids, not gut-bucket deep retching). Rest assured I was not only relieved, but wide awake. Sounds perverse but his comments were calming. Now down the toll-road under a brilliant full moon. The Toll road is in the best shape ever, plowed, smooth & graded. Every other year it has been rock-slides with debris from fist-to-car sized. Made IdleHour (83) on schedule. Feeling a bit wanky. Now further down into the steep dropoffs and uncertain rocky footing of IdleHour Cyn. Once again, black as the inside of your head. Climbing out, lose lunch for final time as Scott McKenzie chugs past, paced by Fred Shufflebarger (1993 winner). Being passed is not important at this point. I'm still thinking about buckling. The long climb back up to Sam Merril with the promise of sitting for a minute. Now it's 11 mi to the finish. We are on the bubble. The hour lead has evaporated. It is technical downhill running, with occasional stretches you sprint. At 87mi I pass 1st woman (Jennifer Henderson), who is in a death-march. Later she tells me "at that point, I still felt good..." Down, down, down to Millard (95.3). We make it in, right on schedule, but there is no slop. The climb up out of Millard is a run, opening it up to where the road meets the trail, back into blackness. At this point it really came into focus that I WANTED THAT BUCKLE, and I hadn't come this far to do a 24:00:30. A succession of small roller-coaster grades. No walking now or ever, it's popping thru the climbs. Jim's voice behind me is telling me that this is where all the post-70mi weekend Tuesday night track workouts come home to roost. I am fully focussed. Charge, turn, climb, turn, sprint. Now the final 2+mi to the finish on blacktop. It a full-blown track workout. We are into 7min miles now. Pushing the descents, powering thru the ascents. I am realizing now that if you really want to see how someone really runs, wait for them at the finish. All posturing and paint is gone, it's bare metal. Now I know that the finish I want is within reach, and all I have to do is get there in style. I see the finish, Tina is waiting on the other side of the banner, and I cross into another place. --- At every point along the way, Jim has been coaching, prodding and verbally illuminating technique. People think Jim is a hard-ass with his mega-mileage, and think that there is coercion involved. Not at all. This was a cooperative effort, it was the Master Class in Running, and I was the willing student. He said do it, and I did. When I asked him in June to pace me, I had already decided that this year I was finally ready to ask someone of his caliber to help me out. That meant that I would have to really push to get to this place. As I got closer I felt all the ghosts and distractions fighting for my attention, resisting my efforts to get there. I ignored them. I realized how little I know, and how much more there is to know. PS: Yes, I passed a Tarahuamaran* 3 mi from the finish. Yes, he was in very bad shape. Larry Gassan, Copywriter l_gassan@beachnet.com 7453 Oakwood Ave, LA CA 90036 323-655-8177 + 323-655-9532 fax ========================================== SoCal UltraRunner's Grand Prix Series ==========================================