Date: Mon, 03 Aug 1998 16:44:07 -0600 From: "Joe Prusaitis" Subject: 98Vermont The start of the Vermont 100 Mile Endurance Run began weeks before the actual running, on the trails of Western States, where I pounded my feet into a dull throb. Thinking back to Western, it was the uphills that kicked my butt, but it was the downhills that I felt, early on in the Vermont run. And also, as much as I tried to avoid it, my job required that I fly to Malaysia just a few days after Western. Thirty hours of flying and waiting on connections through LA, Hong Kong, and Kuala Lumpur is damned tough on the body. The aches from Western had yet to subside prior to the trip over. Jet lag adds an additional wrinkle, taking my body from one time zone and droping it in another, offset by 13 hours, was a cruel trick on my body’s natural rhythm. At mid-day, it’s daylight, but my body thinks it’s mid-night. Most international travelers will attempt to sleep as much of the flight as possible and then remain awake until the following night, effectively slamming their cycle into the new time zone. Going over seems much easier than coming back for some reason. By Thursday, I’m just about right, and then I slam it back the other way. For a few weeks, I usually find myself nodding off during the day and waking in the wee hours of the night. It’s an old story and I am familiar if not used to it. This trip was bad, because of Western on one end and Vermont at the other. While in the orient, I made a feeble attempt to avoid the really exotic foods this time, but it was difficult. The tiger prawns are hard for me to avoid. I was only home from Malaysia for a few days before flying off again to Vermont. Unfortunately, my usually iron-clad stomach did not make the trip. The pre-race medical check and dinner was a family reunion of sorts. A handful of friends had come up from Texas with me, and I recognized so many others. My wife and I got reacquainted and introduced old friends with new. It was a feel-good time for everyone, with lots of laughter and smiles. You would have thought that none of us had a care in the world as we chased the ghosts and demons from the barn. The only concern I heard all day was that the weigh-in appeared to be a few lbs heavy. On race morning, we waited in the barn for the 4am start and slugged down water as each of us made last minute preparations. I figured that Grenn and Glegg would be gone immediately, and not expecting to see them again until the next day, I wished them well. Mitch and I planned to start together and he had memorized a couple dozen jokes just to get us on our way. The piano player was back again to play us a tune as we walked to the start, but I didn’t see any fireworks this time. 250 of us milled about the start line on the dirt road in front of Smoke Rise Farm for only a few minutes before we were released. The start was pretty subdued as we herded on down the dirt road in the dark, Mitch and I near the back. Within minutes, we were walking uphill on a mud and rock strewn trail with our flashlights out and on. Mitch introduced me to Bonnie Allison of Oklahoma, and listed off her biking, running, and triathlete credentials, seasoned with stories of each. We left her and connected with a Bostonian who had listened in on a few of Mitch’s jokes and gave us a few back, just to get even. The jokes had begun and they were pretty bad. We didn’t know it, but our buddy Michael Short of Atlanta had overslept and arrived late to start 30 minutes behind the rest of us. He pushed the pace hard and caught us about 10 miles in, just before Taftsville Bridge. About the same time, David Rose of New Jersey caught us and Mitch surged ahead, just to mess around with a horse and rider. So, as Mitch was pushing ahead, Mike was backing off, and I continued on with Mike. David seemed to be with us and then behind us intermittently. Each time, I thought we had dropped him, he was back again. He was just back from a multi-day staged run across the desert in Morocco: The Marathon Des Sables. I wasn’t sure if it had helped him or hurt him for this run. Time would tell. I had started with a pair of trail shoes that I really liked a lot, but I was just now learning, were not good enough for my feet today. The beating my feet had taken at Western was already being felt, as I could feel my feet and ankles swelling. I had to stop to loosen my laces and gaiters. I needed my other shoes, which I wouldn’t see until much too late at mile 84. My feet hurt already. Ah well, and so it goes. I stopped at Taftsville for my drop bag supplements and to leave my flashlight. It was a warm day and I had not started with any cold weather gear: gloves, jacket, or such. I also picked up my camera, knowing full well how gorgeous the Vermont countryside was. I wanted lots of pictures along the way and stole the time to take them. The pace that Mike & I maintained was pretty easy, but still well under the 24 hour bubble, while Mitch kept pushing until he was well ahead of us. Mike stopped at Pomfret (mile18) for his drop bag and I continued without him, connecting with Rick & Shannon Rochelle of Fort Collins Colorado. I ran with them for a few miles, until they went over a steep rise outside of Pomfret much quicker than I, and then they were gone. As much as I tried to maintain my food and water intake, my stomach was starting to get a bit queasy. This was not good. I had to eat or they would pull me when my weight dropped. Even though I couldn’t stomach much, I kept eating. Really, it was more like nibbling. Mike caught me again prior to Route 12 (mile30) and we came in together. Joyce surprised me by being here. She brought me my drop bag and I took some more supplements, but the heat and my stomach were giving me a tough time and I was beginning to struggle. We were 30 miles in and I was in trouble already. Sweat had completely saturated my clothes, hat, bandanna, and socks. I must be completely mad, because I still had no doubts. I just had to keep moving. They give us 30 hours to do this and it is more than enough time. We connected with Mark from “Baaahhhston”, who was talking about dropping at 10 Bear, and we gave him hell, which included all the standard lines about mental strength and thinking positive. We recalled stories of heroic recoveries by regular Joe’s, and we had talked him back into it. He was healed and hanging in. He even stopped to take our picture as a reminder of who had pulled him back, or more likely “who to blame!”. We caught and ran with Peter Moore of Vermont, who I had run with last year here and at Arkansas, and the four of us rolled into Jenny Farm (mile42) and 10 Bear (mile44). Camp 10 Bear is the key station and weigh-in for me on this course. Because it is both the 44 and 68 mile station, It closes out the first loop of 44 miles, begins and closes the 24 mile marathon loop, and begins the final 32 mile. I weighed-in at 184 lbs. Just 1 lb down according to me, but 7 lbs down according to the medical folks. I was warned but released to go on. Mitch was just ahead of me by 10 minutes and out of his head, talking nonsense. The girls were worried about him and gave Mike & I some liquid supplements to take to him. We dallied a bit here to get collected, put some food down, and start as fresh as we could. We followed behind Mitch, but never did catch him as we got reports all along the way about how bad he was doing, and yet we never closed the gap. One volunteer told me that he had asked Mitch how he was doing and Mitch replied “I have to finish - I have kids”. He was worried about him and so was I, but you know, you can never tell. Mitch got stronger as I got weaker and he slowly increased the gap between us. Mike & I eventually drank the supplements that we carried for Mitch. My stomach was in an uproar and ingesting anything now was tough. Peter and Mark pushed ahead of us as I struggled, and then Mark came back to us as Peter pushed on. David Rose came up on me again just prior to Tracer Brook (mile55) and rolled on by, looking smooth and strong. He was going for his first finish in three tries, and we were all pulling for him. Just prior to coming into Tracer Brook, Mark fell behind just a little and then suddenly went sprinting past us. We wondered if it was his finishing kick. Had he had made a decision to not continue. I remember seeing him sitting on a fence as we went by. He was done. Joyce was here again at Tracer Brook and gave me a beer to help settle my stomach. T’was a wonderful feeling, yet I dared not drink more. I changed into a dry shirt and Joyce topped off my water bottle as we launched ourselves into a screaming walk up the biggest two hills on the course. Not steep so much as long. I started to pour some water on my head and took a drink first only to discover that I didn’t have water, but a powder mix supplement. Joyce was trying hard to make sure I had what I needed, but what I really wanted was to pour some water on my head. I drank some of the supplement as we walked up, but I was having a problem with keeping it down. It kept rising in my stomach until I thought I was going to toss it all. After some time, we found the summit of the second hill (mile58) and I dumped the remaining contents of my bottle only to find the unmanned station barren of water. The only thing left was another supplement mix and empty bottles of coke and water. We had to keep moving and hope that the next one had water. Fortunately the next few miles were downhill and we rolled down into it pretty quick (mile60). Like an angel, Joyce was here also. I tried some soup and a bite of sandwich. Watermelon and grapes felt cool in my throat and I took a handful. I wiped my head and shoulders down with a wet towel while resting in a chair and then we were quickly out again. A bit more downhill to go before we found some uphill. At the next station (mile63), I took a few crackers and headed out. I put one cracker in my mouth and then tossed it all. Everything came up and then again and again. My stomach was empty now and I felt better. I managed to pick up the pace a bit as I felt better than I had in awhile. We caught Rick Rochelle by himself on a hill. He said his wife was running well and had gone on ahead. I was feeling pretty good at 8pm when I came into Camp 10 Bear (mile68), only 2 hours behind last year’s time. My weight was still at 184 despite my emptied stomach and bad eating habits. Peter was there when we came in. He was feverish and had to drop. Mike still had a shot at sub-24 and I insisted that he stop dragging my heavy butt and go for it. Besides, Joyce was pacing me from here and she carried a large whip to herd me with. Reluctantly, Mike went ahead while I collected myself for the next surge. Only 32 to go and we were a 1/2 hour under the 24 hour bubble. So what! It wasn’t a goal of mine. Joyce and I left together for the final time out of Camp 10 Bear, across the road, up a short piece trail, and then a steep climb up a creek bed of rock and mud. It was getting dark quickly as we slowly climbed up, and pitch black as we reached the top. An aid station (mile70) was at the summit and I sat down on a rock fence to catch my breath before continuing. More chicken broth and then Joyce pushed me on. It was rolling hills along this stretch and I remember how slow I was. I looked forward to the uphills so I had reason to walk and Joyce would leave me alone, knowing that she would push me on all the downhills. I had a stiff-legged bounce going down hill and my stomach started coming back up into my throat. I had to stop and walk to calm it down. So, walking the uphills and now also the downhills reduced us to a crawl. I knew how slow we were going and attempted to at least walk quickly. After some time, I managed to walk the uphills much faster, but everything else was in slow motion. I was pretty damned sick of all the foods and drinks by now, and Joyce was worried about it. I had tried everything and the only thing that worked was chicken broth, watermelon, and grapes. I developed a craving for orange juice which I knew they didn’t provide. I came into Yate’s Farm (mile79) and asked for orange juice, received a negative response, and thanked them anyway. I sat for a moment and then we took off out of there along a dark trail for the next aid station. We were a few minutes gone, when we heard a mountain bike coming up the trail behind us. It was a young man from the last station with a plastic jug of orange juice. He had run home and brought me a jug of juice from his frig. Finding me gone, he chased me down to deliver the goods. Joyce and I were both overwhelmed with his kindness. The orange juice was great. I carried and drank it all the way to the next station at the foot of Mt. Ascutney (mile80). It was four miles to Bill’s, the last major station, and we were finally making better time. Nothing like the power of orange juice. The moon was but a sliver and the night was very dark under the trees. We ran alone with no other lights anywhere to be seen, except the stars in the sky. We stopped for a moment to enjoy the view and to hear the creek rushing along nearby, in a bigger hurry than we were. We crossed the creek and moved up the road to another small station (mile82). It was maintained by some friendly folks who lived in the home behind it. Between this station and Bill’s we circumnavigated a very large field and then into the woods for a short way, and soon landed at Bill’s (mile84) before we were aware of it. Of all people, Mike was laid up in a lawn chair under blankets as we entered the garage for the weigh in. He had pushed himself too hard and crashed. Good ol’ Mike was still in good spirits and planned to ditch the blanket after just a bit longer to continue his journey. I changed shorts, shoes, and socks here, and also vaselined myself pretty good to fight back a rash that had been gnawing at me. I felt like a new man as we left for the final 16 mile section. Up the driveway and on past Snook’s place, then back into the woods. Joyce and I had both been up about 24 hours now and were getting sleepy along here, so it’s kind-of a blur. I knew this part of the course pretty good and I think we were on auto-pilot. It was mostly flat and boring, along a paved road and then onto a slightly rolling dirt road, until we got to Blood Hill (mile88). Well, this hill is a triple tiered monster and it woke me up. I began my final surge going up this hill, and at the same time, the flashlight beam hypnotized Joyce. Funny how the placement and intensity of your light beam will cause tunnel vision or raccoon vision, or all kinds of odd looks and feelings. The bounce of the beam will even zone you out with dizziness. Joyce had to lay her head on a table at the top of the hill to get her bearings back. They had rolled out of socket and had to be repacked. From the top of Blood Hill it was downhill to a turn and another and then “Hello”, we’re at Jenneyville (mile90). Take a left and it’s just a 1/2 mile to the barn, but take a right and it’s 10 miles along the proper course. Hey, I’m on a roll now and feeling good so we take a right: down the road for the final plunge. We didn’t see anyone as we pushed on into the darkness, and then up another long hill. We had a hard charging power walk going and it felt good. We went past the next station (mile92) and then the next (mile94) where we turned back south into the woods again. We passed a guy walking as we wound about the trees and rocks following glow sticks. The sky was getting lighter as the sun was coming up, but we were still in the darkness of the trees. We passed a trio of women just before drifting into the last station at South Woodstock (mile96). I checked in and then immediately back out and across the road. This last bit began with a 2 mile climb through the trees which undulated along the ridge and then dropped into a driveway, crossing a street and into a field. Along another ridge we watched the sun come up over a beautiful Vermont countryside and then we saw David up in front of us with less than a mile to go. We talked for a few moments and then went on. On we charged, I was running again... up and down the hills. We passed another on the last uphill pitch and then down the trail to cross the last road. 100 yards through the trees and then into the barn. Joyce right next to me the whole way. We were done. Right behind me was David.