Vermont - The Chance I Took By John Wood Imagine receiving a phone call late Sunday afternoon and being offered the opportunity to be a contestant in the Vermont 100-mile endurance race the next Saturday. Well it happened to me. I had mentioned to my running friends, while training at Croom one weekend, that I had considered entering this event but the field was full and no new entries were being accepted. The word got to Eve and Shawn Dietrich, and since Eve was injured, she was not able to participate. She offered me the opportunity and I gratefully accepted. When I received that phone call from Shawn, I was overwhelmed with excitement. I immediately got on the web and started searching for airline deals. None were found but I made a reservation at the best possible rate available for this short notice. I E-mailed the race director, requesting permission to enter by substituting Eve's entry for myself. I had no idea if this would be acceptable. I talked to my wife about this situation, and although she was not really happy because she going out of town as well, she understood, and as usual, was very supportive but concerned. By late Monday everything was approved and set. I had to do some deep soul searching to figure out what I had just done. Sleeping for the next couple of nights was difficult. Pete Pfannerstill provided me with a great deal of useful information on the course logistics, a pacing chart, and how he had packed drop bags in a previous year. I began my plan and started gathering things to pack. The Vermont run starts at 4:00 AM in the morning and the course closes 30 hours later. I needed a flashlight and a different variety of clothes to be prepared in case it was cold, hot, or rainy. I had to be prepared for all conditions. I was pretty scared at the thought of running at night. On Tuesday, I found out that Kevin Crowley was to be my handler and pacer (pacers are allowed for the last 31 miles in this race). This was a great relief for me and now made the task of packing drop bags that much easier. With all the arrangements set, there remained only one thing on my mind. Could I do it? Had I done enough training and was my body tough enough? Would I self-destruct? I knew that my running mileage the past few months was no where near what it needed to be for this distance. There was no doubt that the Croom 50 miler (my longest run to date), completed April 1, provided a good amount of conditioning, but what I was really counting on was the strength that I had acquired by doing a 217 mile Appalachian Trail backpack hike the last 16 days of May. Hiking is not exactly the ideal training method for running but I feel that running and hiking compliment each other very well. On the hike I wore heavy boots and carried 40 to 45 pounds of supplies from approximately 8:00 AM to 5:00 PM. I battled rain, wind, and hot and cold conditions. I climbed over steep mountains and down deep ravines. I ate freeze-dried food and drank tons of water. When I was done I had lost 9 pounds (a lot for me). Two days after the hike I felt strong and even thought of entering the Vermont 100 run. It was too late at that point because the field was closed to new applicants. Thursday evening we were at the lodge after a long drive from Boston. We had a little difficulty finding out where the group was staying but eventually we all got together. Once the sleeping arrangements were established I didn't waste any time hitting the sack. I'm not sure I slept real well, but I needed the rest. Friday morning we got up, picked up our race packets, perused the expo table and got the brief medical checkup. We had a chance to review a little bit of the running course during the day, and had a nice pasta dinner in the evening. I set out two drop bags for later in the race at the locations that I knew there would be no handler. Back in my room, I organized my supplies, attached my race number to my pants, set the alarm, and went to bed. The excitement level was very high and if I slept at all, it was not a deep sleep. Saturday morning came in a flash. We were up at 2:30 AM and after forcing down an Eggo waffle and a bagel we were off to the start area. It was overcast, cool, but not the cold weather I had been hoping for. We checked in with the race people and huddled in the barn, consuming some last minute fluids. Several folks asked how I felt, and about all I could come up with was a sheepish " I don't know". Everyone said I would do fine and would have no problems. All the folks had more confidence in me then I had in myself at that moment. Suddenly we heard the sound of rain on the tin roof of the barn. At 10 minutes to 4 the skies opened up and at the same time we heard the announcement over the bullhorn requesting everyone to move to the starting line. Out in the rain we went, passing by the resident's house where on the porch was a piano with a lady playing "Chariots of Fire". Just as the race started, the rain let off and we were on our way with flashlights flickering and the piano playing in the background. It was a nice sendoff. The Vermont 100 course is pretty unique with changing terrain, which consists of dirt roads, jeep trails, hiking trails and field crossings. It crosses through hundreds of acres of farmland, crosses two covered bridges and rarely has long stretches of flat areas. The course crosses the Appalachian Trail at two locations. Most of the course is completely runnable and only about 10 to 15 percent requires care to prevent tripping or falling on rocks and roots. The total elevation climb and descent is about 14,000 feet so it is considerably more difficult for those of us that train in Florida, but probably easy for those who train in the hilly or mountainous areas. There are about 36 aid areas; some manned and some unmanned. At each aid station there is a variety of foods and liquids including peanut butter sandwiches, chips, pretzels, potatoes, candy, cola, electrolyte replacement drinks, and plenty of water. Most stations have first aid supplies as well. The runners from the Tampa Bay area included Pete Pfannerstill, Dan Miller, Barbara Frye-Krier, Elaine Anthony, Pam and Bill Dickens, and myself. Handlers, helpers, and pacers included , Stephanie Miller, Lisa Pfannerstill, Miles Krier and daughter Karilynn, Kevin Crowley, Bill Vogt, Shawn Dietrich, and the Miller family, Hazel, Loren, and Danielle. It was my original intention to try to stay with Pete as long as possible knowing he was on a 24 hour planned pace schedule. A few hundred yards after the start he moved ahead at a pace that was a little uncomfortable for me. I then decided that my only goal here was to try and complete the distance and I would run at a pace that seemed comfortable and relaxed. I wasn't concerned about time early on and I only wanted to run efficient and be easy on my body. It was at least 16 miles before I came up on a familiar runner and that was Dan Miller. Dan did not appear to be running at his optimum level and as we talked for a while it became apparent that something was not right. He was either exhausted from days of driving on his long vacation or just ate something that didn't agree with him. In any case he fell behind. At the first handler station, which was at 18 miles, I found that I was actually ahead of the 24 hour finishing pace. I also found out that Pete and Barb were about 6 to 7 minutes ahead of me. I loaded up on food and drink, made a quick check for blisters, and was on my way in just a couple of minutes. At about 40 miles, I was moving up a narrow grassy trail and slowly gaining on someone in front of me. As I got closer, I thought I recognized Pete and called out his name. Sure enough, it was, and Barb was right in front of him. I felt real good to be running with them and it helped improve my confidence. I stayed right behind them until we started down a rather steep grassy decline. I tried to back off but gravity pulled me down. The braking effort to stay behind Pete and Barb was hurting my knees and I finally had to pass them, momentarily going out of control down the hill. It was a matter of saving my knees and sacrificing my quads. I'm sure I paid a price for this maneuver later in the run. At the Camp 10 Bear, handler and aid station, I ate 6 to 8 of the peanut butter and jelly quarter sandwiches. I was starving and needed the food. I also needed my socks changed and feet wiped since grit was accumulating in my wet socks. The handlers were just great here. I felt like I had a personal pit crew in a NASCAR race. People helped get my shoes and socks off, wiped my feet, and got the new socks and wet shoes back on, all while I was eating and drinking. Within minutes I was on my way again. Pete and Barb got ahead by about 1 to 2 minutes so I had a little work to do to catch up to them. I finally caught up to Pete at the next aid station (Smith's). I remember a brief rain shower, as we ran together, and then we came up to a road called Agony Hill Rd. This was not exactly what we wanted to see at that point. The course went off the road on to a trail and up a rather steep incline. Once again we caught up to Barb. Shortly thereafter, I remember Pete declaring that we had reached the 50mile point. It was 2:10 PM and that meant that we had crossed the half way point in 10 hours and 10 minutes. I felt pretty good about that. We made a quick re-fueling stop at Birmingham's and started across the grassy field. Off to our left, a deer darted from the field and into the woods. It was a very beautiful site. After 10 to 15 minutes of running, Pete fell behind. At the Tracer Brook station, I made a quick re-fueling stop and had to hurry to catch up to Barb, as she wasted no time moving on out. We walked and jogged together up Prospect Hill (58 miles) and I had to make a stop at the aid station but Barb did not, and this was the last time I saw her. Apparently, she was feeling strong and had a lot of confidence since she took off fast, as if she found a new source of energy. At the Cox's aid station (mile 60), I found that Barb was nearly 10 minutes ahead of me. My legs had been feeling pretty dead for the past few miles so I had fallen off pace quite a bit and had to walk for a while. I changed socks again and spent some time eating and drinking. I believe Pete caught up to me and we ran together for a short while. Due to some exhaustion at this point, I had some memory lapses. I developed some bad chaffing between my legs and was able to get some Vaseline at one of the aid stations. Unfortunately, the damage was done and that made for some rather uncomfortable running for the remainder of the run and a few days afterward. At the 68.2-mile aid station, I loaded up on food and fluids and took a few minutes for a break. This is where my pacer, Kevin, joined me. He was instructed (by Miles) to keep me moving and not let me rest long at the aid stations. As we started up the big hill, I had to walk quite a bit and I could see that Kevin was full of energy and ready to go. I knew we had to strike a compromise between walking and running if I planned on completing this course. I retrieved my flashlight at a drop bag I had stuffed at the 70.4 mile aid station. I remember feeling rather sleepy, grumpy, and just plain irritable at times as the evening wore on. I started drinking cola and eating chocolate candy bars at the aid stations and this seemed to help considerably. I ate a big salty potato and suffered through an upset stomach for a little while. I continued to take Succeed capsules (sodium and potassium) to keep the muscle cramps away. The evening wore on but we kept moving forward, walking and running the best we could. I remember sometime around 9:30 or 10:00 PM we came down a dirt road and almost in front of us was the lodge where we were staying at. This was not a mirage. It was quite a temptation to just abandon the racecourse and go take a nap for a while. Well, I didn't have my room key and Kevin said not to get any ideas like that. The little bit of humor at that point helped keep me in good mental spirits. Unfortunately, a little while later while we were passing through a grassy field, my flashlight quit and I got a bit aggravated. I stayed close to Kevin and we shared his light for 7 to 8 miles. Fortunately the course was mostly on dirt roads for quite a while after that so the single flashlight was adequate. I remember coming up on one of the aid stations where a little girl was on a bike and asked what we needed in the way of aid. She peddled up to the station and when we got there our order was ready; chicken noodle soup and a bag of ice for my quads. The local volunteers in this race were fabulous. It was just amazing to me that they could have so many aid stations manned all day and all night in the rain and have the folks so enthusiastic all the time. I always felt so good when I heard the cheers and hand clapping from these folks. At the 83.4-mile aid station (Bill's) I had a drop bag packed. There were fresh shoes and socks and a long sleeve polypro shirt. I just felt too tired to break into the bag and didn't feel like we could spare the time. We had to do the medical check weigh in and I had to eat and ice my quads. I felt plenty warm at this point and felt that I didn't need the shirt. That was a mistake that was to affect me in the last few miles of the race. As we left Bill's, finishing the race was on my mind. I knew we were ahead of the 24 hour pace by at least 1 to 11/2 hours. I had visions of finishing by 2 or 2:30 AM and wanted to be in a bed, sound a sleep by 4:00 AM. Kevin kept telling me that I was doing so well. It was great having him pace with me. Toward the end, he would ask me what I wanted from the aid stations and run up ahead to get it for me. I could almost shuffle past the aid station while he was handing me a Coke and something to eat. He kept reminding me to drink water and electrolyte replacement. It is very easy to forget these things when you are totally exhausted. I vaguely remember the 88.6-mile unmanned station and remember saying that I had hoped it was 90 miles. I remember a long down hill stretch that we made good time on. I even recall some heavy breathing coming from Kevin meaning that we both had to be working hard at that point. I think it was sprinkling light rain when we arrived at the 90-mile station. I was feeling pretty good and excited since the miles remaining were now in the single digits. It was about midnight and my only worry was thinking about how I was going to make the last few miles without a flashlight. Lisa was there and when I explained my predicament, she came up with a flashlight for me. I asked her if she had a spare for Pete and she said yes. Never again will I ever be caught without a spare light and batteries. I am very grateful for Lisa's help here and felt very bad when I heard that Pete had flashlight trouble later in the race. Well in any case my good attitude and mental spirits faded fast when the sky opened up sometime around the 92 to 94 mile mark. The rain came down in sheets and the wind blew. I remember coming into the 96.1-mile station soaking wet. The volunteers wanted to throw a garbage bag over me with a hole cut out for my head. I was not real cold at that time but was more irritable and slightly delirious and just wanted to get moving right after I used the porta-can. I was fine until we started up the hill and once again the running stopped and walking began. Then I got a little cold. Kevin had a water-resistant vest and forced me to put it on. I was very grateful for that and irritated with myself for not grabbing my polypro shirt from the drop bag back at 83.4. At the top of the hill, we passed a lone struggling runner and then got passed by a strong runner ourselves. It was probably only two miles to the finish. The last two miles of this run were absolutely the most miserable. It was as if someone above decided I was doing too good for my first time and finally decided it was about time for a real challenge. The rain came down hard, with flashes of lightning in the distance. The trail leading down the mountain had turned into a channel of flowing muck. You would set your foot down and slide anywhere from 6 inches to two feet. When you tried to get up high on the edge of the trail, you got sucked down into the middle. It was an exercise in futility to try to do anything but just stay in the middle of the muck. I could feel my shoes being sucked into the mud and if they weren't tied tight, I know I would have lost a shoe in the mud. The idea of finishing at 2:00 AM faded fast. It became a matter of surviving and remaining upright. To make things worst, my contacts were flooded with saltwater and rainwater making it very difficult to see. At one time, my left foot fell into a hole and I yelled out in pain. Kevin started to turn around and come back for me, but I was able to remain upright and continue on. No damage had been done. My legs felt like wobbly wood stilts and I used some very foul language at times, but nevertheless we worked our way down to the finish line. I saw the lights from the barn, and in just a few seconds it was over. I let out a yelp and crossed the finish line in 22 hours, 34 minutes, and 24 seconds. In the barn, with Kevin's help, we quickly got my shoes and shirt off, and I dried off and got a warm jacket on. I sipped some warm soup and some hot chocolate while Kevin ran to get the car. By 3 AM we were on the road and back to the lodge. We stopped to pick up a pacer on the road who was walking two miles to his vehicle back at Camp 10 Bear. He was glad to get the ride since it was still pouring rain and we were glad to be able to offer it. The next thing I remember was taking a warm shower and then sitting in the tub full of warm water. I climbed into the warm cozy bed and quickly went to sleep and thought what a contrast this was from two hours ago. It was a great feeling of accomplishment and I thought for a moment that I might be waking up in the morning thinking that I had dreamed it all, however, this time it was the real thing. I was only asleep for about 3 to 4 hours. Moving from the bed to the bathroom was a major effort due to stiff sore muscles. I went down stairs and got the reports on the rest of the runners. Pete had exceeded his goal and made it in 23:30, Bill Dickens completed in 25:54 and seemed very pleased, and the big surprise was Barb who set a PR and completed in 21:28. She also received an award for being in the top 10 women overall. Dan, Elaine, and Pam had to drop somewhere around the 68-mile mark. I recall Dan saying, "sometimes it's just not your day". I felt bad for Dan since I know he put in a tremendous amount of training effort for this event. He had been hoping to go under 24 hours. Of all the memories I have of the Vermont trip, I feel the most significant was the support I received from my fellow runners. I went up there, doubting my confidence and questioning my preparation. All the time, everyone had a positive attitude and that stayed with me to the end. The race was one of the best organized events I have ever participated in. I especially appreciate the coaching and encouragement of Dan, Miles and Barb; the quick help from Pete for planning preparation; and the great support from all the handlers. My pacer, Kevin Crowley was great. He got me through and helped me keep a positive attitude. My most sincere thanks to Eve and Shawn, because if it were not for them, I would not have been offered the chance to go to Vermont. I hope to be able to return the favor some day.