Subject: HURT II race report From: "Peter.Bakwin@noaa.gov" Date: Sun, 27 Jan 2002 18:10:47 -0500 I'm a little slow getting my HURT II report out as I just got back from a fabulous vacation in Hawaii. Really it was 2 vacations: first the race, then 5 days devoted to lying on the beach. There have already been some excellent reports on this year's race. This is my personal experience -- the good, the bad and the ugly (yes, it got real ugly). For a detailed description of the course see Peyton Robinson's report of a few days ago. "A'ole makou e ho'ohikiwale kela!" (rough translation: "We wouldn't want it to be too easy!") A few minutes before 6a.m. the runners gathered on a bridge outside the Honolulu Nature Center (NC) for a prayer led by a large Hawaiian lady. She spoke for a few minutes in the melodic tones of her native tongue, then offered a short summary in English, "May you find enlightment and humility in the forest today." Some one blew a long note on a conch shell and we were off. The character of the course soon became apparent as we ascended the steep Maunalaha Trail on a tangle of roots and rocks. A group consisting of Ian Torrence, Brandon Sybrowski, Mike Sweeney and myself quickly broke away, collaborating on spotting the marking ribbons in the darkness. A ways up the climb we spotted a couple of wild pigs digging for roots on the trail. After an hour or so the sun was up and we were greeted by the stunning beauty of our surroundings -- lush tropical forest with an extreme diversity of plants including many kinds of flowering trees. ferns, bamboo forests, massive banyons and towering Norfolk pines. The trail was damp but not too slippery for the most part. Conditions were mercifully cool, with some cloud cover and a brisk and gusty wind on the ridgetops. After the first "Hogsback" climb we hit a section of wonderfully runnable contouring single track. I cruised along feeling strong and happy to be in this fabulous place. We ran over a segment of horribly tangled banyon roots then through a thick bamboo forest with the tall stalks clattering in the wind. Then began a steep, switchbacking descent to Manoa Falls and the Paradise Park (PP) aid station. Brandon led the way and we ran hard down the hill -- it was too much fun & I knew this exuberance would haunt me later. I pulled into the PP aid station feeling full of the joy of being alive. It is dangerous to feel so good so early in a 100, but I just went with it. PP is the end of an out & back section and it was fun to see all the other runners as we humped our way back up the hill. At the top, after repeating the nasty banyon roots, we turned down the Nu'uanu trail and ran a side-hilling section on fabulous grassy single track with stunning views of the rugged hills with Honolulu and Waikiki Beach just below. The trail led to a narrow, wind-buffetted ridge with steep, verdant slopes on both sides. This section spooked me a little every time, especially later at night when the trail conditions had become extremely slippery. We descended the ridge on roots, rocks and wet grass. One steep section was even roped -- not absolutely necessary but certainly welcome. After leaving the ridge was more excellent downhill trail punctuated by a few rocky sections and many switchbacks. In a couple of places the hillside dropped away from the trail so steeply that I thought "Jeepers, they're going to lose some one here!" On one very rocky section Brandon slipped and tumbled 15 feet down the hillside. Later there was another rope on this spot. We descended through a forest of massive Norfolk pines then crossed a stream to the Jackass Ginger (JG) or Nu'uanu aid station. Once again we were at the end of an out & back leg, and we had to grind back up the hill. Greeting the other runners and gawking at the lush jungle vegetation provided distraction. After the gnarly banyon roots we turned off on another excellent side-hilling single track for some fast cruising. Running back down the hill to the NC the sun was out and it was beginning to feel very warm. With very efficient help from the aid station people I refilled my Camelback, grabbed some fruit and a kalua pig sandwich and was off for another lap with just under 4 hours elapsed for the first lap. Ian, Brandon and I left the NC at about the same time, but they quickly pulled away on the climb. I caught them on the downhill into PP, establishing a pattern that would last through 87 miles. After PP though Brandon pulled away from us, but we found him again sitting down in the JG aid station. "I got tired of running alone," he explained, and he and Ian took off up the hill. I was beginning to feel tired, which worried me it being still very early in the race. I ran and chatted with Mike Sweeney, which was a helpful distraction. After a while we were hit by the first of many brief but torrential rain storms, which for me provided welcome cooling & I began to feel better again. As the day and night wore on these storms became more frequent and more intense, turning the dirt into shoe-sucking mud and making the roots and rocks as slick as ice. It being January the day was short, only about 11 hours of good daylight. We were using flashlights again by the end of the third lap. Brandon quit and 100 km, setting a new CR by several hours. Brandon seems made for this course, being both a super strong climber and and excellent technical runner. I couldn't make any headway against Ian, and it became somewhat tedious getting dropped on the climbs then reeling him back in on the downhill sections. I got a break a the end of the fourth lap. Ian was suffering some problems with his feet (the wet conditions were hell for the feet -- I didn't dare take off my shoes) and I was able to beat him to the NC aid station. Leaving the aid station for my last lap I still felt strong enough for the job ahead. My stomach had been uncooperative for some time, but it seemed to be holding. On the way up the Hogsback I kept looking over my shoulder, but no Ian. When I reached the top without seeing him I began to think "I'm going to win this!", but tried to put that out of my mind. There was still a long way to go. "Enlightenment and humility," I reminded myself. Things were looking good. But then, half way down into PP my body had enough. Everything just stopped working, particularly my stomach and legs, and I was suddenly reduced to a painfully slow walk! I got to PP and collapsed into a chair, sitting down for the first time in the race. I really didn't know if I could continue and was worried about becoming a liability on the course -- I certainly did not want to be the subject of a rescue! Ian arrived and looked stunned to see me sitting there. Ian's crew (Ian's girlfriend, Ann, and Brandon) very kindly and attentively encouraged my to try to eat and drick, and after some coke and ginger candy I felt modestly better. Finishing another 13 miles of this challenging course still seemed out of the question though. Brandon and Ann said if I would try to continue they would waint at the aid station for 20 minutes in case I decided to come back. I agree, and left to walk with akabill, who entertained me with his conversation but soon pulled away. By JG I again felt like death, and I collapsed into a cot and slept for 15 minutes. Again I tried to quit, but RD Greg Cuedra wouldn't hear of it. Catra Corbett came through the aid station and encouraged me to walk with her, but I assured her that I would not be able to keep up. Eventually I got tired of arguing the matter with Greg and left the aid station for the longest 7 miles of my ultrarunning career. The climb was grueling, but the sunrise brought a return of the wonderful views as well as just a bit of renewed energy. Slogging through the mud in a downpour at the top of the climb I encountered my wife, Stephanie Ehret, going the other direction. She looked strong and happy and was on her way to winning the women's race. I finally puttered to the finish line with a dismally slow lap time of 8:40 (for comparison my 4th lap was about 5:45). Later I learned that Mike Sweeney took 12:45 for his last lap, and I felt pretty embarrassed about my whining! In the last 13 miles Ian had put over 2 hours on me to win in a very respectible 25:15, but I was no longer thinking about racing, only about survival. My 27:30 was good for second place. Summary: The HURT 100 is a very hard 100 miler. This year only 12 of the 58 starters finished. Though some starters were clearly going only for the 100km, HURT is meant to be a 100 mile race with the 100 km offered for those who find they are unable to complete the full distance. Many runners will find this the case: even with a 36 hour time limit I suspect many 28-30 hour Western States runners will have difficulty to finish HURT unless they are able to run well on technical terrain in the dark. If the conditions are very wet, as they were this year, then finishing will be even harder. Even Hans-Dieter, who finished Hardrock well under the cut-off, has been unable to complete HURT in two attempts. HURT is also one of the most beautiful courses imaginable, probably second only to Hardrock. For mainlanders the scenery and conditions are just so different from what we are used to that it just knocks your socks off at every turn. The support and attention to detail by the organizers is remarkable for such a small race. This race is lovingly brough to being by a group of ultrarunners who love their home trails and love showing their trails to others. This is the first race I have run without pacer or crew and I really felt none was needed -- the HURT crowd took care of everything. So, I want to thank the race organizers and volunteers for putting on a great event and making me & Stephanie feel really welcome. We felt like old friends (and next year we will be!)