The 2000 'Coon report - My Special Birthday by Rick Lewis Introduction For over a year now, I've wanted to do what I did this year - be a part of the 'Coon (the Rocky Racoon 100 miler) - which is held over my birthday weekend most years. My birthday is February 6th. Last year a number of conflicts led me to attempt the Lost Maples 50K - and get my first DNF. While that DNF had nothing to do with my decision to do what we did this year at the 'Coon, it was a part of my learning about ultrarunning - DNFs are part of the game of pushing your body's performance and endurance limits. My motivation really was to include my family in a significant ultra event, to volunteer, and to get to run part of it. I'd offered this to Mickey the year before but he declined, saying I had to qualify for and enter the race. I never thought about pacing someone as a way to experience the race - my friend Mike Riggs closed the gap on the matter by asking me to pace him. Although I've denied it up until this moment, I might actually attempt this distance myself. My friends, and fellow Marathon a Month athletes Sam Voltaggio, Kim Sergeant, Jeff Farrell, Mike Riggs and Brett Davis have surely given me something to think about. We all joined MAMA to motivate ourselves, and these runners took the lead and vaulted to new highs. Congratulations to each of you, you know how much I respect you, and appreciate your friendships. If you aren't mentioned much here, it is because I didn't see you much during the event, it is that simple. Like many, many of the folks who ran, volunteered or watched this race, very few knew they were participating in my birthday party! Thank you one and all, I've got my story to tell now that it is all over with. Remember, it is my story and an account, extremely subjective in nature, of the events leading up to, during, and after the 2000 Rocky Racoon 100 mile trail run. Wayne Webb, a dear friend and aid station captain for the 174 aid station, had discussed with me the possibility of making his station the MAMA (Marathon a Month Athletes) station, and after our Moonlight Marathon, everyone concurred: we'd all show up and support Wayne and the 100 mile runners. So here I present my race report, my feelings, and the experience of a lifetime. Enjoy. 02/04/2000 1700 hours After several attempts we are on the road, and the trip passes smoothly with us entering Huntsville State Park right as the pre-race meeting is starting. Wayne had called the day before to let me know that campsite 174 (hence the name "174" for his aid station, which resides there in the campsite) was taken, and that they would be using site 173. To my delite, I learned that 175 was available and rented it. That way we'd have plenty of room for the tent city inbound. We got set up and Wayne came by and invited us all to dinner. I'd not wanted to burden Mickey with six extra mouths to feed so we had planned to go back into Huntsville for dinner, but I was sure grateful because we were tired from the trip and setting up the tent and gear, so we accepted, and enjoyed pasta, salad, red beans & rice and an amazing table of desserts. I think my children ate mostly dessert, but what the heck: it was my birthday weekend! In chatting with Mickey and Wayne I learned that most of the equipment, food and supplies for 174 were still at race HQ and needed to be moved to the site, so I dropped the family off, hooked the trailer back up, and we hauled all the gear to 173 and dumped it. Throwing a tarp over it we said goodnight and hit the sleeping bags, nice and cozy in the heated tent. 02/05/2000 0100 hours I heard Mindy moan in pain as she was turning on a flashlight. She woke me up to show me a cut in her knuckle she'd received while loading firewood on Thursday. The knuckle and surrounding two fingers were purple with infection, and her whole hand stiff with pain. I comforted her as I could and we fell back asleep, promising each other to open it and irrigate it in the morning. 02/05/2000 0230 hours A sudden deep coldness swept through my body, awakening me. I realized the air mattress on which we were sleeping was completely deflated and that I was feeling the cold earth beneath the tent. I also realized that the fat which might have made me comfortable on my hips and legs was GONE and spent the rest of the night trying gingerly to find a position that wasn't cold and/or painful. Mindy was tossing and turning with the pain in her finger and the cold of our bed. Needless to say, not much sleep was had during the next few hours. (I'd lost 14 pounds over the past 4 months) 02/05/2000 0600 hours Just as I felt like I'd fallen asleep I heard a car approach and doors slam. Sighing, I checked the time: 0600 hours. Time to rock 'n roll the race had begun. Station 174 is 17.5 miles into the 20.1 mile course loop, so we had decided the night before we did not need to get up earlier than 6 and be set up for the first runners by 8 or 8:15. As I was waking up and Mindy fumbling through the pain to make me coffee I heard argumentive voices and went to explore. Newly arrived Phil and Wayne were arguing about placement of the aid tables, and after listening to them for a couple of minutes I just said "Put them this way or they'll block the trail" which was Wayne's position anyway and started moving the tables. The two ended up working well together as the morning quickly got away from us. 02/05/2000 0800 hours By this time we had the aid station set up and ready to go. No runners. Looking at Phil, he shrugged and replied "last year the first guy came through at 1:51" which would equate to 7:51 am. We waited and it was at least 8:30 or closer to 9am before we saw the first runners. It was odd - it was cool and we'd expected them to take advantage of it on the first loop. But when they did start arriving, they hit us hard, and by the time the last runners had passed through 174, we were already out of bread and a few other things. We hastily made a shopping list and Wayne departed for Huntsville. The MAMA tent city was mostly in place as significant others and mom's and friends began arriving from the start/finish to set up for a long couple of days. It was fortunate that we'd rented the extra space as it allowed plenty of room for about a dozen dogs, numerous children besides mine, and lots of tents to start sprouting. I was beginning to get excited now, that excitement replacing the tiredness of a fast-paced week which seemed years behind me as the tranquility of the forest and lake took effect. 02/05/2000 0920 hours As part of my committments for this event, I'd somewhat reluctantly agreed to pace Mike Riggs in his first attempt at the hundred mile distance. Reluctant for several reasons: a) I had never paced anybody and did not like to run with other people because it messed up MY pace, b) he was a much faster runner than me and c) I did not like the idea of being up all night. However, our Moonlight Marathon training run held 2 weeks prior in preparation for this had calmed the latter fear, showing me that as long as I wasn't alone, I'd be OK with the headlamp and a mini maglite. Plus I knew Mike had asked somebody else who couldn't be out at the park that weekend and didn't want Mike to get discouraged, to me the prospect of doing a hundred seemed daunting. Mike shows up looking great and a little earlier than I'd expected or wanted. We talked while he refueled and chatted with his wife Margo then he was off. One by one we checked off our MAMA runners as they came in looking great. 02/05/2000 1000 hours Mindy had been in so much pain that we sent her up to the start/finish medical people to have them look at it, and the news that came back with her wasn't good: she had a deep infection, and letting it go risked losing the finger(s). She had no choice - she had to go to the hospital. She wisely (we've leared a lot raising 4 children) took our son Tucker who'd been complaining of an earache. They were gone for nearly five hours. I began to really worry, but knew I needed some rest considering the two past nights' restless sleep and the prospect of no sleep until Sunday night back at home. I tried to sleep, but the children had adopted Scott and were chasing him all over the campsites, plus the noise of the clapping and cheering of the crowd as runners came through the aid station all added up to me just getting in the relaxation of laying down. At least Mindy had arranged the bed so that it was comfortable despite the air mattress being air-less. Mindy's hand was bandaged heavily, she'd had numerous antibiotic shots, plus Tucker was quite angry at the shot in the butt he got (he had an ear infection) and was not shy about talking about it. I asked him why he got a shot in the butt if his ear was sick. He looked me squarly in the eye and said "My ear too small for shot, my butt big enough!" and then started telling me how horrible the hospital had been. Aparantly at one point in the endless waiting he and Mindy did he hopped up and headed out the door yelling "When we getting out of here anyway?!" 02/05/2000 1530 hours I woke up to the smell of hamburgers frying. At first, we'd set up the kitchen at Wayne's picnic table, about 100 feet from the aid station. As runners started requesting soup, it became obvious that we needed to move the stoves up closer to the kitchen. We radioed HQ for more tables, but due to the pancake breakfast being set up for Sunday morning, none were to be had. Then I'd gotten a idea that we could use the flatbed trailer, so we put it into position, chocked the wheels and braced it in case a child jumped on it - did not want to send two stoves with pots of boiling soup flying into the crowd. Wayne was expertly flipping burgers on one stove with coffee and soup on another. The trailer/kitchen turned out to be a real life saver (to me personally MUCH later on) as it was only about 20 feet from the aid tables. I grabbed a burger and cold beer and settled down by the fire to eat. The day wore on. Scott Kinkele was going to pace a new email friend, Ruth Kessler from Massachusetts, and he and I started comparing notes on what we expected to happen. Scott had not paced anybody before, and is FAST. He'd won the Moonlight Marathon running almost the entire run (7pm to 2am) in the dark without a flashlight, and I certainly had more confidence in his ability than mine. Looking back, we both completely missed on our expectations! We were getting pretty antsy to get on the trail, and started thinking about eating. Scott had changed earlier into running gear, and another pacer, Stephanie from Colorado, had changed as well. I started feeling goofy not being ready to run, but it was still hours from when Mike and I had agreed I'd pick him up: 1930 or so. So I stayed in jeans and my "Race Offical" volunteer T-shirt from Mickey. Nice touch, Mick. As part of my YAWS program (Yoga, Acupuncture, Walking and Swimming) of training, I set out my yoga mat and in the delightful heat of the afternoon sun, went through my routine, with Mindy sitting quietly by my side. The lake was perfectly smooth without any breeze, and I was tempted to loose my shirt and soak up some rays. I didn't - and later in the run would have to mentally focus on those moments to ward off the biting coldness. My experience in the Moonlight Marathon taught me that I needed to eat hours before heading out for night running, so I started grilling more burgers and hot dogs with Misty Griffin on a raging BBQ fire. Gobbling down another burger and the other half the beer from earlier, I started feeling better about the prospects for the long night ahead. Unexpectedly Ruth came into aid barking orders at Scott, who had been photographing the runners and whole event most of the day. I think many people thought he was the offical photographer! He looks and plays the part, for sure. Fortunately for Scott, he was dressed and stretched out from his frolicking with the children, so he grabbed his gear and followed Ruthie's orders: "Head down the trail to the start/finish and I'll meet you there." That would be the last I'd see of Scott until much later in the next morning. 02/05/2000 1830 hours With only an hour to go until I picked up Mike, I went ahead and changed and went through a last minute check of my gear, mentally recounting in my head what was out there in my drop bags. Dressed and shoes loosely laced, I got more anxious to start running. Earlier in the afternoon Mike had come through on loop #2 looking great, so I was ready to rock! Although I say the day wore on, in reality it just seems that way as I write this on the Monday following. I was graced by the presence of many of the MAMA crowd and people I'd never met. Days earlier I had sent to the ultrarunner email list an invitation to stop and say hi, and countless runners helped place a face with a name/email address. To each of you who took the extra moment in your race to meet me and my family, a very special thanks. Don't take it personally if I have to be reminded next time, for our day was full of aid station chores and greeting runners, but it was touching to hear those who told me they enjoyed hearing of the MAMA program's progress via the internet. We had pulled as a team, and it was obvious. While everybody was busy, nobody was frustrated, anxious nor overworked. Everyone had a chance to take a break, and I really appreciate all of Wayne and Mickey's friends who also showed up. I'd estimate we had close to 40 people in 174 working, including Keith and Amy and their newborn child. Mindy and I would later remark how fortunate we were to have an event like this where we could bring the children and let them be themselves. My son Tucker had been looking at a framed memento of my first two years of ultrarunning I had put together over the Christmas holidays. He pointed to a picture of Wayne Webb, taken at Sunmart 1998, and said, "that man here the other night." referring to Wayne's participation in the Moonlight Marathon at our place. I had told Tucker were going to where Wayne was, and he replied "Oh, goody! I like Wayne!". Our children have matured into the ultra scene, and if my life represents anything, I hope the comaradarie and caring ultrarunners show for themselves and each other passes on to my children. Misty and Jeff had given me some plastic/paper airplanes to play with, and to my amazement, numerous inbound runners, hit unexpectedly with a flying airplance, were gracious enough to stoop down, and return the flight to the issuing child. Truly ultrarunner spirit! "I like runner dudes!" would be a later remark of Tucker's. The twins and Bryn just seem to fall into place at these events, helping make sandwiches, fetch water, cut up fruit, restock cookies and pretzels, and welcome runners with yells and clapping. I often wonder what goes through their heads, and how this will affect their lives. I know it would have greatly affected my life, for my decision to be an athlete were born of my own stubborness for personal achievment, not my childhood, where academia overruled athletics. 02/05/2000 1940 hours Mike comes in, looking a little ragged. I explain that he can't officially pick up a pacer until the start/finish so I would dash off ahead of him then wait for him there. Plus, I needed to run! I cranked out the 3 miles in about 25 minutes, after hearing a rather discouraging "that's it - we walk the rest" from Mike. Not knowing he was SERIOUS about walking 40 miles, I enthusiastically headed out after saying good bye to my family and friends. Everybody was wishing me well, as I'd turn 43 during the first loop for me, 4th for Mike. 02/05/2000 2020 hours The run out to the start/finish had left me sweating but warmed up and even more anxious to get out in what has become very familiar territory: the trails of Huntsville. I had quite a wait, as Mike walked in and we got him weighed and changed into tights and another layer topside. Finally, we were off. I led the way in a fast race walk pace, and it was immediately obvious he was hurting. Oh, how I felt the pain myself, having hurt in that section out to the Interpretive Center and across the road myself in many a Huntsville run. Especially in the heat - which we were NOT faced with as the temperature was hovering at the freezing point. It did not take reality very long to settle in as I realized Mike was going to have to walk out the rest of the race. His projections of 5 and 6 hours for loops 4 and 5 seemed overly optimistic to me as we walked. Reaching aid 1 an hour plus later, the reality hit hard. It was going to be a very, very long night. This aid station was ablaze with holiday lights, a nice warm fire, and music and tons of tables laden with everything. We fueled up and headed out. Time suspends, the night stretches into infinity Time and my memory don't synchronize even a day later, so events will be correctly described although the times are somewhat uncertain. One certainty is that the temperature was dropping, and I was barely moving fast enough to maintain body heat. I wasn't sure how or if Mike was, he was characteristically quiet as we trudged through the darkness. Mike's Petzel headlamp, which I'd used in the training run, was so comfortable I quickly forgot about it perched on top of my Sunmart cap. It's glow cast an image that reminded me of night scuba diving, where your whole frame of visual reference is in your face mask. At times during the night and morning, my mind would wander into places where I thought I was in freezing water trying to find a way out. As we made our way along the course, the friendly hellos and "how are you's" and "good job" remarks were always welcomed. One thing I'd feared when first faced with the prospect of being a pacer was that I'd be on my own without benefit of the aid stations. Wayne had quickly dispelled that fear, and I must say that I was treated very well throughout my time on the course by volunteers and race officials. As we came into the 2/3 aid station I thought we'd hit the end of the course, for at the far end was a hug fire, surrounded by folding lawn chairs and runners socializing. It struck me a extremely humorous, seeing these distance runners with their feet propped up, busily chatting as they downed the various and widely assorted foods. Aid 2/3 had been featuring hamburgers and hot dogs all day, but by now they were down to soups and hot cocoa. I located my drop bag and using the roller pin techniques I promote, rolled out my legs. A totally different sort of muscle condition was setting in from all the race walking and I wanted to cover my bases. At some point in aid 2/3 in the night, a runner would remark "Oh, the rolling pin man!" referring I presume to my posts to the ultra email list about the virtues of using the device. We headed out for the out-and-back from hell with me doing the mental calculations on loop time. Not good, we were pacing at a six plus hour loop 4. Oh well, trudge on. My breath billowed in clouds of vapor as we silently climbed out of 2/3 and into the darkness. The blood red glow sticks looked hauntingly frightening, and I giggled that it looked like we were trick-or-treating, with the bobbing flashlights and red glow spreading out through the forest. I say "hell" with affection, for this section of trail has always challenged me, although in my mind, it is the most beautiful and truly trail section. It just seems, regardless now, in my experience, of heat and humidity or chilling coldness, of day or night, to be endless. And then to my amazement I realize that we don't even get to go over the bridges, that we really DO have to go BACK and around to the bridges over the swamp. I've managed to remain optimistic so far but grumble to myself at this oversight of mine when studying the course map. Later this intelligence information would prove usefull to Scott and I however. We reach the yellow plate reading "Turn around" and I turn around. Mike walks up and whacks something, gleefully saying "You gotta whack the thing" - hey, there's no way I'm going back and whack ANYTHING! Moving uphill, I struggle to pace Mike, pulling ahead in my eagerness to get this loop over with and number 5 started, but cognizant of his stiffness and pain. It turns out to be an ordeal I am faced with for the whole of my pacing - and one I related to from both perspectives. At one point Mike tells me he can't focus his eyes, so we walk shoulder to shoulder with the beams of our headlamps uniting for a wider view. Somewhere along the way I hear Mike say "You are a year older in a minute." I'm amazed that he's been watching his time, and check my watch. Sure enough, it reads 23:59. We walk in silence as I age another year. Mike says "Happy birthday, Rick" as a smile spreads across my face. I can't think of a better way to slide into your birth day anniversary as this - on the trails, facing multiple challenges, alert, and feeling it all. The miles click by as we finally do reach the bridges, to our mutual delight, and cross them for the final klick or two into 174. This has always been a part of the Huntsville courses I have appreciated, the bridges, the sandy approach to them, and the waltz around the lakeshore and into the campsite. As we round the curve I see the trailer in 174 and our holiday lights and hear the chatter of the volunteers and observers. 02/06/2000 0020 hours I feel at home in 174, and take a moment to say hello and thanks to everyone and get some soup. I told Mike to head out and I'd catch up, but he said he preferred to go together. I'm surprised to see my 8-year old daughter Bryn wander over and say "Happy birthday Daddy." (I learned later that she had insisted Mindy wake her up so she could see us come through.) As I'm rolling my leg muscles out with the roller pin someone says "Aren't you going out with Mike?" I look around and realize he's gone, so I grab the soup and sprint out of the station. Passing several other runners I catch up. "I'm delirious" he replies when I ask why he left without me. Oh well, we are on the road again: next stop is the big one, the start/finish, and my job is to get him in and out, not allowing him the possibility of even THINKING about quitting. As we approach the HQ, I start talking to Mike, who is very responsive and alert. The plan is for him to weigh in and I'll get food and bottles refilled while he puts on another layer of shirt. It is really, really cold and I emphasize the need to not delay for fear of getting too cold. 02/06/2000 0339 hours As we walk into the glare of the start/finish, I hear the footsteps of some runners pounding behind me, and turning, am surprised to see Joe and Joyce Prusaitis finishing. We'd seen Joe each time he came through 174 and cheered him on, him always with that smile and humor of his, the calm assurance of man to whom a hundred mile footrace is just another run. We'd also seen them, and stopped momentarily to chat, up on the out and back as we were going back. Joe had projected a 21 hour finish, and they closed out this hundred miler at 21:39. Here is our first error of the night: we stopped to talk. I expressed my concern about the cold and Joe's advice to stay moving through the aids was well received, except, we were stopped, and had been now for about ten minutes. Too long my mind dully says, as we finally hug and part ways, heading into the blackness for the final round. I'm again surprised when Joyce pops up behind me and hands me two chemical warmers. "Tear a hole in the end and wait a few minutes, they are air activated" she says. Having no clue what I've been given, I show them to Mike. He's very excited and starts trying to break into the plastic. Nothing he nor I can do will give us access - the stupid plastic is so tough. He finally manages to separate them and hands me one, saying "Tear into it with your teeth - it'll warm up in a few minutes." Remembering back, there was ice on his drop bag as we restocked. Joyce's kindness is so in character with her and her husband, and the little pouch does start to warm up. I'm chilled to the bone as we yet again start out towards the Interpretive Center, slower this time. We dully respond with grunts to the "good job, keep going" and "you'll make it" words of encouragement the inbound and finishing runners give us. You know, ultrarunners are some of the most considerate people I've ever met. As the morning ground on, everybody would resort to grunts, many to silence as we came and went, strangers in the darkness. I'm starting to think I'm in trouble as we work our way through the roots across the road. I remain silent and work us up in speed but Mike can't maintain the speed without tripping on the roots. It must be terribly difficult after 80 miles to pick up a foot, and the roots keep coming up and hitting him. His moans of pain become more and more frequent until, finally, we are on the jeep road. "Mike, I'm not going to be able to make this whole loop, I'm so cold I can't feel my hands any more." I give him the bad news. We discuss options, and agree I'll hang with him to the end of the out and back which is ten miles into the course, then cut through across the bridges and into 174 and home. Content, we move forward. The chill won't go away. I've got every piece of Polartec gear on my body, and I am getting less and less able to think clearly, and more numb. Suddenly in front of us is a dark figure, standing in the middle of the trail. I remember thinking it was some guy going pee, so I shine my headlamp away from the figure. He turns on his light and it turns out to be Leo (?) who Mike knows and I think I thought I knew. They pick up a conversation as I notice myself weaving. Leo apologizes for weaving, but I know it is me, and I know I'm in deep trouble. As the distant glimmer of aid 1's lights appear ahead, I break the worse news to Mike - I am going to have to drop out. I'm in trouble and can't see any way of making it any further. He takes it quite well, and Leo volunteers to stay with Mike, as he's a veteran of 4 or 5 hundreds. 02/06/2000 0500 hours Grateful, I shed my gear in the station and pull up a chair by the fire. After a few moments I explain my situation, and one voluteer quickly takes me to his truck, fires up the heat, and sits with me until I stop shaking. His digital outside temperature read 29 degrees. "It's 25 at the start/finish" he tells me. He drives me over to 174 and confers with Wayne about DNS and DNF status, as the radio at 1 hadn't been working since the start. As they get that squared away I realize Wayne is crewing 174 alone, meaning my family including Mindy, whose voice I'd heard on the radio up at the 2/3 station (and so desperately wanted to grab the radio and say hello to) were in bed. 02/06/2000 0535 hours I grab a blanket, whose purpose I'd questioned Wayne about the day before, and wrapped up in it. No good, I was still frozen. I glance over and see somebody sitting by the fire, and hope it is Mindy. Stopping by the truck, I get a shot of whiskey in a cup and sip it. The woman isn't Mindy but is tending a nice fire. I sit down and sip the whiskey and try to warm up. No good, I get back up. Gotta get warm, gotta get warm. The tent! Then I realize Sharon Davis is also missing, and know she did not bring a tent. Wayne tells me she's in my side of the bed. No problem, this whiskey should kick in shortly. Going back to the aid tables, my savior driver has departed and I realize Scott is back. He's sipping soup and offers me some. Restless to get warm, I decline and finish off the first shot of whiskey. As I head back for another, I ask if anybody wanted something from the bar. Both say yes, so I grab a bottle of wine and corkscrew, another tall shot of whiskey, and head back. I hand the bottle and corkscrew to Scott saying "If you can get into this, have at it." He smiles and expertly opens the bottle and Wayne fetches cups. I polish off the whiskey and get some wine. Now I want soup and Wayne brings me 3, maybe 4 cups of beefy stuff that is absolutely wonderful. I am feeling a bit warmer now, and laugh at the sight: Wayne checking in frozen runners, Scott popping up to help them with their bottles, and offering coffee, which we discover has gone cold because the propane stove stopped working. Scott switches the coffee over to the white gasoline stove and explains that propane doesn't function well below freezing. A runner comes in with an iced mustache. I am still shivering but feel some hope. 02/06/2000 0610 hours Scott and I decide to head to the fire and pull up lawn chairs and the bottle of wine. We start relating the stories of our pacing experience, and it all truly starts to seem funny, except my DNF as a pacer. Ruth it turned out did place 5th in the women's division with a time of 23 hours and some change. Thus why Scott was here, although he realized later that he had not had the presence of mind to ask for a ride back to 174 and so had run back: a total of 47 miles for him that night. As for me, Wayne had figured I'd done 27 miles. As the wine warmed us we got louder and louder and warmer and warmer. Exhausted, I left the bottle with Scott and headed into the tent. Time to lay the body down. I do find Sharon and Mindy bundled in sleeping bags, and the children huddled up in one mass. There is just enough room on top of all their gear for me, right in front of the heater. I kick off my shoes, grab a duffle bag for a pillow, and fall instantly asleep. 02/06/2000 0710 hours Andi wakes up and pokes me. "Dad, when did you get here?" - "I dunno, where am I?" I reply. Then I realize I'm in the tent, and it is light outside. Great, I think. I've had a good night's rest. Glancing at my watch, I realize my night's sleep is more like 45 minutes. Our brief conversation awakens Mindy, who quickly gets about the task of fetching coffee. She can't find any but Wayne's is hot by now and brings me some. I stagger out of the tent in a pair of fresh shoes and we wrap a blanket and sleeping bag around me, as the shakes start all over again. We find Scott by the fire cuddled in a sleeping bag and blanket. The wine bottle sits nearby, with some contents left over. As I drink coffee and chat with Mindy he starts to wake up and I ask about the wine bottle. "Well, I dropped it several times then decided to leave it where it fell." We laugh, and I grab the bottle and chug some out of it. No good, still frozen. Taking off my shoes I try to warm my socked feet, and that works, but my body is still cold. I drink more wine and coffee mixed, still freezing. I'm really starting to worry about myself but try not to let it show and the children begin to wake up, and the sun lightens the lake in an orange glow. That looks warm, and I think of all the runners out there and how grateful they must be at daybreak. The children and Mindy surprise me with a carrot birthday cake complete with candles and sing happy birthday to me. I eat a piece of the cake and more coffee. I start worrying about Brett and Mike out there, reminding myself they are with Butch and Leo, nevertheless, I'm anxious. Margo Riggs is quite worried about Mike, seeing me in 174 did not help. I explained my situation and she was very gracious. I paced the aid station doing this and that, and finally made up my mind. I was going back out to find our guys and bring them home. It was the least I could do, and I knew I had lots of miles on my legs. I hit the porta potty, grabbed a water bottle and found Scott. "How about a nice hard run?" I ask. The glimmber in his eyes is answer enough, and Margo overhears us. She takes her heavy duty gloves off her hands and gives them to me, as Mindy fetches my wool hat. (I should have worn that during the run) Mindy kisses me a good bye and Scott and I pound out, backwards from 174 towards the bridges. We are doing 9 minute miles at least and it feels good. We encounter numerous frozen and staggering runners coming in, and shout encouragement to them, "Just a half mile to 174, 3 to the finish - you are almost done!" as we cross the bridges. Ice, Scott points out, just a light glaze, but enough to slow us down. Don't need to end up in the water. I'm warming up, sweat is starting to form. We reach the fork and stop. If we go left we have 3.5 miles to the next fork, plus another 1.5 to the 2/3 aid station. I explain to Scott that we can cut through the woods and show him a trail marker. "The turnaround is about 100 feet from here" I explain. He's amazed I know this, so I relate my experience in this section of the course. We discuss our options, and agree that if we can get to the logs at 2/3, we'll at least know the status of our runners. We acknowledge it may end up that we run farther, but opt for the knowledge the logs will give us. We cut through and start up the "back" towards 2/3 - it is only 2.5 miles. We encounter two women who we recognize. Pausing briefly to encourage them, we pick up the pace up the hill. Scott is leading and keeps saying "This is the last downhill into the station." After 3 or 4 false statements like this, he stops saying it. Without doubt, one of the longest 2.5 miles I've ever run. We shed layers as the sun's heat powers up, and I'm finally warm! The course is empty, and the volunteers, there at 2/3 all night, excitedly get up when they think we are their last runners. We brief them on the two women out there, and examine the logs. Brett had left only 32 minutes ahead of that moment. Due to the detail of the log information, we are able to compute their pace all the way back into the morning where I left Mike and Leo at 5am. They are doing 20 minute miles. There's a good chance we can intercept them on the final stretch before the bridges. We stuff our extra clothes into my stuff sack, refuel, and head out. I take the lead and hold it hard, we've got to make up the time between our forward progress and theirs. We are moving at 8 1/2 to 9 minutes per mile, them at 20 minutes per mile. They have then at best a 2 mile lead on us. We are having a great time, laughing as we navigate the twisting, turning course, jumping roots and logs. After about 20 minutes of this, we stop and re-evaluate our position. Something is wrong, or they've picked up the pace. Glancing at my watch, and estimating the time to intercept point, we decide to cut the course short and hopefully make up more time. We scurry across the spillway, soaking our shoes in the process, and head up. The start/finish is clearly in sight across the lake, and no runners are to be seen. I'm thinking they are ahead of us, Scott says behind, so he doubles back and I head forward. Believe it or not, I'm stripped down to tights and a singlet, and the sun warms me and dries the sweat. I'm feeling better than I have for days, maybe weeks as I jog the trail. Reaching a point where I could surely see them on the bridges or trail, I double back to pick up Scott, and we meet about half way. Turning around, we pick up the pace and head homewards. "I see them!" he cries, and sure enough as he sprints forward, I catch sight of Leo's back. We catch up on their status and then Scott takes off to find Brett. Looking up, I realize they are only a hundred feet or so ahead of us. The six of us make our way back as I analyze Mike's condition. He's stiff and unsteady but relentlessly moving forward. Leo is solid but tired. We don't say much as we move along. Mike asks how far to the bridges, and I estimate a half mile. He grunts. As we near familiar landmarks, I fill them in on our location - we are about 100 yards from the bridges. I think Mike thought I was lying, but sure enough, we turn a bend and the first, short bridge appears. Only a few hundred more yards and the long bridges across the swamp are there, and the relief in both these athlete's is obvious. They relax, and their strides become more loose. We walk them into 174 and hurry them out. Gathering up their supporters, we get our gear stashed and head to the start/finish - driving this time! We haul all the 174 drop bags, realizing en route we may have grabbed the 2 women's bags but having no time to try to figure out who they might be. 02/06/2000 1030 hours As we arrive at the HQ I run into Mickey who invites us in for breakfast. Gratefully we herd the children in and are greeted by the smell of bacon frying, and the sight of eggs and pancakes. I think I ate 3 or 4 platefuls, plus orange juice. Keeping an eye on the time, Mindy, Scott and I relax on the ground as the children play. A few more runners finish and we cheer them on. Mickey finally rounds up everyone for the awards ceremony, we talk a few people into waiting around for our guys. 02/06/2000 1130 hours We catch sight of Brett and Butch and Sharon Davis, Brett's mom, as they come out of the trail into the area. We start clapping, and I can see a faint smile on Brett's face as he make a gallant attempt to get into a running pose. He shuffles in amidst cheers and clapping. At 16, one of two teenagers to finish this course today in 29 hours and 30 minutes. His first buckle. 02/06/2000 1139 hours We relax again, the 3 of us. Scott had been fearful to sit down, worried he'd lock up. I told him not to worry, I'd done it, and he reminded me he'd run a lot further than me, in a friendly sort of way. We compared notes: he did way over 50 miles, me a good long 50K. Another one bites the dust, my 3rd marathon or longer distance in 4 weeks. Mike and Leo appear on the trail and we stand up to cheer. Mike looks a little gray but manages a thin smile as he too shuffles across towards the finish. He stops next to us but one of the race officals says "Come on all the way for the hundred miles" and Mike says "Can't you cut me a few yards?" half jokingly. Nope, no slack here and Mike made it all the way, 101 miles of tough running in 29 hours and 39 minutes. I cannot say how grateful I am to, and for, Leo's appearance on that trail. He and Margo head in for the awards and his buckle and some food. Mindy drops me and Scott at 174 and takes the children horseback riding, something we had been promising all weekend but never found the time to do. Fortunately there were horses available and they had a great ride. Scott and I and Wayne tear down 174 and load it and all the trash onto the trailer after switching it from kitchen status to trailer status. We chat for awhile, waiting for my truck to come back. Scott heads out as the truck arrives and I hook up and haul the trash to the dumpster, and the gear back to Mickey at the U-Haul. 02/06/2000 1315 hours Everything cleaned up, all 3 campsites free of trash and gear, I knock softly on Butch's trailer door. After a moment, he appears, wrapped in a towel. "I just wanted to thank you for taking care of Brett." I tell him. The man looked me in the eyes, and without hesitation replied "You'd do the same thing for me, wouldn't you?" I smiled and closed the door, realizing I was at home. Home amongst some of the most giving, thoughtful and incredible people in the world. We drove off and I was asleep before we left the park, Mindy later related to me. So late, in fact, that we drove off and forgot to pay. Oh well, the check's in the mail. 02/07/2000 1630 hours I'm wrapping up this chronicle and had a few loose ends and thoughts: * I didn't run this 100 miler and don't want the impression left in your mind that I did anything other than try to help a friend make it, and volunteer at an aid station. * Many of my friends are completely left out of this story. I'm sorry, but as I said in the introduction , only those I saw quite frequently remain in my memory as of this writing. Seeing the results, I'm very proud of each of you, and you know that. * The limits of the human body are, for the most part, unknown to us. I can't believe I want out and ran after the wine and cake and 45 minutes of sleep; similarly, I can't believe the dedication and resolve I saw in the men and women who did run this race. * For the time being, I remain a runner capable of completing a marathon or 50K a month, in mid-range times with no recovery period, and a comfortable training program that I love. This experience, however, has opened my eye to much bigger challenges, so you might see my name on the 'Coon results before Mickey moves it to Bandera! * Comments, corrections and suggestions regarding this report are gratefully accepted. * My career as a pacer lasted exactly 15:50 as it should be.