My Wasatch Front 100 Mile Adventure September 14, 2005 Terry E. Foust Jr. My fascination in the Wasatch Front 100 Mile Endurance Run began one year ago when I received a call the night before the 2004 race to pace a runner on the 22-mile section from Lambs Canyon to Brighton. Two of my long time marathon running/training partners, Brett Bass and Keith Klundt, were pacing a Wasatch runner (Bill Peck) and called me during the pre-race meeting where they had met a runner needing a pacer. I agreed – happy to help but not really sure about running a 22 mile leg through the night with a stranger. On the day of the 2004 race, we arrived at the Lambs Canyon aid station to the news that my runner had fallen ill with stomach problems and had dropped (interestingly I met this same runner, Reyn Gallacher, during training this year. We became friends and ended up training together for much of the latter part of the summer). Brett and Keith’s runner came in and they were getting ready to go out when Brett spotted another runner leaving his crew and heading out alone. He went up to the runner and his crew (his wife) and volunteered my services – as only Brett can do. The runner (whose name was Shane Martin), appeared somewhat unsure, but agreed – and thus began my first 22-mile trek through the woods in the dark. Shane and I hit it off and I gained two new friends in he and his wife. It was a great experience and when I returned home at 3:00 in the morning – I knew I wanted to run the Wasatch myself. I have a marathon running history having run 17 marathons including competing in and finishing the 2003 Utah Marathon Grand Slam. I have run several non- ultra distance mountain races over the years, (Crazy Bob’s Bair Gutsman and the Wasatch Steeple Chase). Last year (2004) I ran just two marathons, the inaugural Salt Lake Marathon and the St. George Marathon - both slower than usual, without enthusiasm or motivation for training or racing. I was feeling bored with marathoning/road running and the challenge of the Wasatch pulled me to it. Brett wanted to run the race also and Keith agreed to pace us. Brett and I met the night before race applications could be post marked and filled out our applications so I could mail them in person first thing the next morning. We were both accepted upon condition of fulfilling 8 hours of trail work (Wasatch requires each runner to complete 8 hours of forest service approved trail work to be fully accepted) and I began to prepare by running on the mountain trails as weather and conditions would permit. I read all I could on the Wasatch Front 100. I read race reports, Trail Runner and Ultrarunner magazines, and visited ultrarunning websites. I created a notebook and put all the race materials and any other information that I found helpful in it. I continued to read anything and everything I could regarding running 100-mile ultras. I read as many of other runners Wasatch Front 100 written accounts of their stories as I could find. In mid May I completed my trail work assignment, working on the trail just above my home in Kaysville and was officially in the race. Training did not go as I had planned during the summer however. Life has its own demands and is no respecter of training or races. I had a 7-day trip to a remote part of Kodiak Island in Alaska, where I was unable to run due to the big Kodiak grizzly bears – literally. Then Beth and I participated in or were in charge of three major youth events including a Pioneer Trek, scout camp and girls’ camp. We also had obligations that came up involving extended family, and I contracted giardia in July, which laid me up with vomiting and intestinal trouble for over two and a half weeks before the medication began to take effect. To top it off, my commuting nightmare came true on the Thursday before the race when I was involved in a 3-car collision and wrecked my car on I-15 in late afternoon rush hour traffic in the center lanes. After the shock of it all, my first thought after collision was “am I OK to run?”. There must be a curse in being an ultra runner. Of course my car sustained the worst of the damage of all three vehicles. Given all this, I felt very under trained and prepared, but was still excited to run. The best part of the experience was that my family was my support crew. My parents came down from Montana so my dad could crew with my wife, Beth, my brother-in-law, Jeff Bassett, and my 15-year-old son, Jay. My brother-in-law Stan Bassett was one of my pacers. All my other family and extended family supported by helping with preparation and coming to key areas to see me. My crew and I all went to the mandatory Friday afternoon pre-race meeting. It was interesting to see the other runners, so many different sorts of people and ways of preparing etc. It was fun to see many of the runners I had met over the summer or had read their race reports or online comments, as well as to see some of the well-known elite runners and ultrarunning personalities. I was checked in and weighed up on arrival. This would be my reference weight for the rest of the race. I deposited my drop bag for Pole Line Pass with a change of clothing in it – it was the only I planned on needing a drop bag at. During the race meeting they had a drawing for some nice equipment. I could see that they had some Nathan running water bottle/fanny packs (the same one I had wanted at DeBore’s running store a few weeks earlier, but had put off buying, then when I wanted to buy it, they were sold out). I told everyone I wanted to win one of those packs. Sure enough on the fourth draw they called my number – #11 and I won one of the packs. It was great – I used it on the race and it was the best – no bounce with the bottle holders at just the right angle as well as plenty of room for taking essential supplies (this is not an ad for Nathan!). I hoped it would be a good omen for the race to come. After a quick family dinner (thanks to my sister, Rose), I returned home and Beth helped me finish getting prepared and organized according to my checklist (she just loves my check lists!). I visited with my parents for a while - where my dad gave me a bit of a pep talk (just like my high school wrestling days), which was appreciated, and I went off to bed. The race started at 5:00 a.m. on Saturday morning (September 10) at the East Kaysville Wilderness Park. A cold front had come in and the morning was very cool. Temperatures were just right for running. I of course did not sleep well and finally got up at 3:00 a.m., ate a good breakfast, taped my feet, got dressed, messed with my pack and waited for Brett and one of his crewmembers to pick me up. They were a bit late and I was out standing by the road getting antsy when they got there. We arrived about 15 minutes prior to the start and the trailhead parking lot, road and start area was full and anticipation was running high. The start was interesting with much more diehard, extreme types than the typical marathon crowd – these were tough men and women! I hoped to be among them at the end – a true ultra runner and Wasatch finisher. John Grobben, the race director started the race off and we all began running up the dirt road toward the Bonneville shoreline trail. The 3.5 miles or so of shoreline trail before we started up the Great Western Trail was nice as it allowed the runners to spread out quickly. I did not have to worry about much passing either way, as we seemed to settle quickly into our own paces. Brett and I ran together comfortably even though he is a tall lanky thoroughbred and I am a short Shetland pony. It was dark and all the runner’s lights made a neat visual as we spread out. I could see them ahead and stretching out behind us like a big light centipede. This first section was from the start to the Francis Peak Maintenance Sheds – a little over 18 miles with a total ascent of 6300 feet with 5000 of that done in 5 miles to the ridgeline. A training friend (Kirk Dyches) passed us about a quarter of a mile before Fernwood. He came up behind me, kind of physically pushed his way in front to pass saying, “I need to get around you” and then recognized me and about fell all over himself apologizing. He insisted that he knew it was me all along - I think not! As we got to Fernwood campground, our first crowd of spectators was lined up with the dual function of supporting the runners and blocking the path to the parking area to keep the runners on course. We then went up a mile and a half or so more of canyon trail and then hit the Great Western Trail and headed straight up (remember that 5000 foot climb). As we started up above the tree line we did not need our lights anymore and turned them off. I kept trying to drink and take an electrolyte cap every hour – though with the cool weather I was not physically feeling like I wanted to drink as much. We came to Cool Springs at about mile 8. I had plenty of water so went on by and headed over and up to the big climb that culminated in cresting Chinscraper. Once we crested Chinscraper (called that due to the steep rocky climb that you practically crawl up and over to crest a sharp ridge of rock, being careful not to dislodge a rock that would fall down on runners below), we were blasted by high cold winds pushing the clouds past us. The clouds seemed to go right through us. It was very cool looking. We continued to run up the ridgeline with a very stiff cold wind and clouds blowing by. The valley below was not clearly visible due to cloud mist. It was surreal as we ran along the ridgeline – in fact it was so other world and mystical looking that I could not help commenting on it to Brett - telling him to look at this and look at that. As the cloud mist blew over the ridge, it would sweep down the other side, split into fingers and swirl around and snake along like it was alive and had a mind of its own. Kind of like something out of a Harry Potter movie. It was fascinating and several runners commented on how they wished they could get pictures or video. Brett finally did tell me to stop telling him to look (basically to shut up), as he could not watch the mist and keep his footing at the same time. The trail itself was dry and it stayed that way through out the race. It seemed that this section did pass fairly quickly. After Chinscraper, we ran up and then headed south along the ridge crossing over to the east side then the west side and back to the east side of the ridge till we came to Grobben’s corner. On the way we came upon a woman runner running easy along that I recognized as Catra Corbett. As we ran by, I said hello and told her she was one of my hero’s. She was very kind as we went by. I then told Brett her story and her accounts of her Wasatch Front 100 runs with a man named Robert Fuller that I thought had been inspirational. Reyn Gallacher passed us here just before Grobben’s Corner. Before we knew it we came around the corner and popped up out on the rough four-wheel road that goes up by and past the radar towers of Francis Peak. Grobben’s Corner is where John Grobben, the race director, meets the runners with water. I declined as I had enough to get me to the aid station and went on by, up to the towers and down the road that seemed to go on and on. Finally we came to the Francis Peak Sheds aid station. We did not arrive until 9:52 a.m. - slower than we had planned. I was glad to get to the aid station and it was here when I saw Jeff (my brother in law) that I realized what a boost it was going to provide to see my crew and family at the aid stations they could go to (Beth hates to drive the Farmington Canyon Road so Jeff rode up on his motorcycle). I was sure glad to see Jeff. I did see Kirk and Reyn at the aid station as well as several others I recognized and decided I was fine with the pace. Jeff and I checked my feet, which were in good shape. I changed into my Brooks Cascadia shoes here (which I ran the rest of the race in and are my favorite shoe) got fluids and some food down, and refilled my bottles. I grabbed a banana, checked out and headed up toward the next aid station – Bountiful B. I ate part of the banana then shared the rest with a runner who failed to grab something to eat at the aid station. After running through Farmington Flats we took a crude trail down across a stream and along the creek bank. When we had gone far enough south that we were just east of Bountiful, we started up some pretty good climbs. These three steep climbs up the back of the mountain to the aid station at the top were as bad as I remembered them in training - but we got through them and arrived at the Bountiful B aid station. There were just a few other runners there with us at the time. I was taking a Succeed electrolyte capsule every hour and my stomach felt fine. My feet were doing great as well. I took off my shoes, shook out the dirt, dusted off my feet and put my shoes back on. My tape job was still feeling and looking good. I ate a half a peanut butter sandwich, had two cups of Mountain Dew and Coke, filled my water bottles, and we went on our way. The next section to Big Mountain was long with two aid stations in between. We just kept moving along, up and down, up and down, finally coming into Sessions Lift Off aid station at mile 28 at 12:42. I felt great coming into this one and I stretched it out and ran a good pace the last few miles or so of the trail coming in. We did not stay long at this aid station, just long enough to top off water bottles, grab a cup of Coke and go. I seemed to hit a tough spot shortly after we left the aid station – aches and pains in my legs and feeling just flat. This would be the case for a long time to come, aches and pains that would come and go and appear in different places. The next aid station was Swallow Rocks (named for rock formations along here that have many holes in them that swallows nest in – go figure). This was a very hot section this summer when I ran it in training and I have heard in years past it has been brutal in the heat. But today the breeze kept it cooler. We made the climbs and ran along the west side of the ridges along a nice runnable section of the trail. We arrived at Swallow Rocks, and I took off my shoes, shook out the rocks and had a cup of potato soup to eat as well as some boiled potatoes dunked in salt (sounds gross now, but it was just the thing then). In the meantime, Brett had been telling me for sometime that his feet had hot spots in the arches. He told me the tape on his feet felt like it was “pulling” the skin. When we got to the aid station Brett attended to his feet. He peeled his tape back and found a big blister on the arch of each foot. We asked for any help available at the aid station, to no avail. No one seemed to have any assistance to offer. He tended to them the best he could – but ended up stopping a few yards out of the aid station to readjust things. I gave him my duct tape as he peeled off the fabric tape he had. He told me to go ahead so I continued on and started the next climb. I came up behind two other runners and ran with them for quite a while around the ridge, through beautiful aspens and finally around the corner to where we could see the aid station below. We had a lot of switchbacks to get down to the road and aid station, but just seeing the station there was a boost. Like a horse smelling the barn. It was about here that Brett caught up to me and we ran down into the aid station together. He had told me earlier it would be honor to run together to Big Mountain and we did just that. This aid station was marked with big pink flamingos – with a couple up on the trail leading into the aid station. We came into Big Mountain (mile 39.4) and I was really ready for a break. My crew was there waiting at the road, Beth, Dad, Jeff, Jay and Stan – all cheering and ready to get me taken care of. They were just great – a fantastic crew. Here I was ushered to the weigh-in where I weighed the same as my start weight. We got my feet re-taped with new socks and my crew kept me eating and drinking. My son Jay was good about bringing food and making me eat. Brett left a few minutes before I did which I did not know until my crew told me. It is at this aid station (mile 39.4) that runners are allowed to have a pacer from here on. Stan Bassett, my brother-in-law was to be my first pacer going with me from Big Mountain to Lambs Canyon – a little over 13 miles. He was great - cheerful, and talkative (though I must admit I was not too cheerful or talkative myself at this point) and kept pushing me. We started the climb up out of the trailhead and soon came upon Brett and his pacer sitting along the trail where he was re-taping his feet. He told me to keep going, that he was making some adjustments and would soon catch up. So Stan and I kept going, not realizing that would be the last time I would see Brett during the race. We kept up a steady pace and overall on this section we did not lose any time, if anything we made up some time. I felt pretty tired on this section and we were on it from about 3:20 in the afternoon to almost 8:30 in the evening - so slow! We came into the Alexander Ridge Aid station, which was great because they had put black flags and skull and crossbones etc. all along the trail coming in, and stayed with the death theme at the aid station. I got a bit of a pick me up from it as I realized I was not feeling dead quite yet. Here I had some soup, fruit and some other little stuff – most of the time I did not feel like eating and had to make myself eat - but I never did get nauseated. I realized after of course that I should have eaten more on the trail and not just aid stations – something I knew but without reminders to do so – I just did not do it. We left the aid station with a group of 5 male runners and pacers and stayed with them through the long gradual uphill along the power line road. After several miles the trail cut off through the trees and went up and over the top of the ridge and then came down around and through the bottom to eventually come out at Lambs. We made good time on the switchbacks down to the creek bottom where it got dark on us under the cover of the trees. We caught up with another runner and his pacer who had a light and we piggybacked on them 'til we came through the bottom to Lambs. They were very kind and would turn around and light the trail on hard to navigate areas like crossing the log jam/beaver dams on the creek. My crew and family were again waiting right there as we came through the trees and they got me in, weighed (down just a couple of pounds), fed me some soup and then got me up to the parking lot to the van where I changed into my night/cold temp clothes, re-did my feet etc. I put on running pants, a long sleeve technical shirt, a knit hat, cotton gloves and fleece jacket for the night. I also took my flashlight and headlamp, which I wore around my waist instead of on my head. This worked great and I never tripped up at all during the night sections. In the short time I was there chill set in and I was shivering. I had some more soup Beth had fixed and rice pudding my mom provided – both of which settled well. Then it was time to head back out - it was hard to leave my crew behind and the warmth and set off in the dark with Keith, my pacer from this point to the finish – 47 miles. In addition to my crew, my mom and my sister, Rose, and her two boys were there also. It was great to have them all there – like I said it really provided such a big boost from a quick in and out. Keith and I started up the road in Lambs Canyon. At the top is the trailhead that goes up and over Bear Bottom Pass. At the trailhead, I stopped to quickly use the restroom (where I actually thought about locking myself in – and Keith out - and just laying down to sleep the night away) and then we were on our way. This section seemed to go fairly quickly to me and soon we were at the top. There is quite a bit of down hill here to get down to Mill Canyon road where we would go up and be at the Big Water aid station. This is where the downhills started to bother my legs – I was having shin pain on the steep descents. I started justifying it to myself by telling myself that not only is this race 100 miles, but it is 100 miles at elevation with sustained climbs and descents, as well as on trails filled with rocks, roots, twists and turns. It is just not an easy walk in the park – my way of telling myself that what I was feeling was OK – it did not work. We finally reached Mill Canyon Road and began heading up it. By now I was not running any up hills much – just the flats and downhills. Keith was great about pushing me and also about warning me about rocks/roots etc in the trail as he ran ahead. He would yell out “rock!” or “root” and I would look for it. I liked having my pacer go ahead, watch for trail markers etc. Seems to work for me – I also watch their feet ahead of me when I am tired. It was about this time I started to entertain some thoughts of dropping out. I was tired; it was the middle of the night and, of course, mid-race pains had arrived some time ago. More than once when I heard noises in the trees around me I thought to myself – people would understand if I dropped out because I had claw or tooth marks on me.. Hmm ... what does that say when being mauled starts to sound better than staying in the race? We were almost to the aid station at about midnight when we were passing crew and cars parked along the road to the trailhead, as the upper parking area was full. There was a crew by the road encouraging runners going by. They said “Good job” to us and then we both realized it was our crew and they us. They sat us both down, fed us hamburgers and fries (what I had asked for!) and we double-checked everything. I got chilled quickly and was shivering under a blanket. We soon got up and back on the road to the aid station where I checked in, had another drink, grabbed a snack then hit the trail. We were now headed out to Desolation Lake, Scotts Pass and eventually Brighton. The section to Desolation Lake seemed to go by OK - there was the one steep and sustained downhill that seemed to go on and on, but over all this Lambs to Brighton section is one of my favorite parts of the course. Before I knew it we were coming down into the Desolation Lake aid station (I am sure it seemed forever to Keith). This one stands out in my mind as my all time favorite among aid stations both last year as a pacer and this year as a runner. They have a big hot fire going, aid station people who just attend to every need and one gentleman who gives the best shoulder massages and backrubs you ever had at 2:00 in the morning after 60+ miles! I could have happily stayed there and worked the aid station with them. Keith and I had talked coming in how we would use the station – we decided feet were doing well, that we would just refill on fluids, eat and get out – but I did let that back rub keep me there a few more minutes. Then it was on and up to Red Lovers Ridge – which is spectacular day and night. You can see Park City’s lights to the east and Salt Lake City’s to the west. (It is actually the top ridge of the Canyon‘s Ski Resort where my kids and I ski during the winter). We had a bit of scramble there around some rocks and debated with another group of runners about the trail, which was soon resolved, and we all got on our way. We got stuck behind two runners – a woman and her male pacer, that would go slow and back us all up, then we would pass and then she would speed up and be right on my heels – literally – so I would pull aside and let her pass, then she would slow down again to where it was painfully slow for us, we would pass and the whole thing would start over. Finally we passed with another two runners and just kept booking to get way out ahead of her. I was pretty annoyed by it - I guess it is easy to get annoyed at 3:00 a.m. when you have been almost 24 hours without sleep…. We then hit the ATV trials that led us around and along the west side of the ridge to the Scotts Transmission Towers aid station. The wind was pretty cold through this section. I would pull my fleece jacket on then I would get hot and take it off, and so on and so on. I could not seem to hit that happy medium. But figured it was better than not having the jacket at all and freezing. We happily arrived at the aid station – at least I was happy to get there. We had decided before coming in that I would check my feet – I thought I felt a hot spot – so as soon as we got there – I found a chair by the fire and quickly pulled off my shoes and knocked out the dirt and rocks. I also peeled back the sock on my right foot and placed a piece of tape over the spot. We each ate part of peanut butter sandwich, downed some drinks and took off. This part drops down on a very rocky and somewhat steep road that is pretty runnable if you are careful, but my legs were just flat out sore through here so I ran/walked the entire section – alternating running short stretches and walking. We then hit Guardsman’s and the paved section leading down to the Brighton Ski Lodge. It must have been about four miles of paved road through here. By this time my mind was feeling sleepy, my legs were sore and I actually started thinking that since Brett did not finish, that I shouldn’t either and I half made up my mind to drop at Brighton – after all I would have gone 75 miles. We came into Brighton at 5:30 a.m. My crew was nowhere to be seen. I checked in and was weighed (this was the last weigh in) – no real change in weight and then I went into the rest room – one of the nicest things was the toothbrushes and toothpaste provided by one of the runners (who is a dentist I think) for everyone. It was sure nice to have clean teeth. There were a few guys in there sick to their stomachs so I exited fast. Came out of the rest room and there was my crew – somehow they had missed me coming in. They took over and gave me a mini overhaul. All I wanted to do was to lie down – sleep for a while. I was really doubting that I could finish within the time limit – I don’t think I was thinking clearly and was not calculating the time correctly. My crew did a great job of pushing fluids and food down me. I had one of the egg McMuffin sandwiches they were making there and that was good. Drank an Ensure as well. Jeff helped me re- tape up my feet, I put Sportshield on them again, a new pair of Tetra socks and the shoes went back on. I remember my crew had brought a high-powered sports drink – Red Bull I think – but the taste did not go over – I did appreciate their trying though. I did talk them into letting me have a 15 minute nap, as all I wanted to do was to lie down. I laid on the floor as Jeff changed the duct tape on my feet. Next thing I knew Keith was pulling me up and we were getting ready to go out again. While sitting on the table getting my socks back on, I heard someone say my name and turned and saw my runner from last year – Shane Martin and his wife. He looked great - but said he had “dropped” from racing and was pacing his brother-in-law in to a slower finish than he had planned for himself – had stomach problems earlier on. I know he has the ability to be a sub 24-hour man – he is an awesome runner and has done it before at Western States. Another very nice thing is that my good friend and previous running partner Mike Burch drove all the way up at that time of night to Brighton from Kaysville to be there for support and to be a back-up pacer in case Keith was not wanting to run the last section. It was the gesture of a true friend and I will always appreciate it. We left Brighton as it was just getting light – in fact Keith ran our flashlights back in so we would not have to carry them. We started straight up toward Lake Mary and Catherine Pass – the highest point of the race. This was an interesting time for me, as I felt completely recharged – out look and all – I think the breaking dawn and daylight helped in some way as well as the food etc. It was also here first moving up the mountain that I used my asthma inhaler as I was experiencing a lot of coughing and tightness in my chest. We climbed up and up and up and crested over 10,500 feet (measured with Keith’s GPS). Some how though the climb went well and I enjoyed the stunning views and the early dawn sunlight on the granite walls over the lake. Wow – incredible views. Next came a long, very steep downhill stretch that I felt we ran strongly. Keith ran ahead of me as we had been doing – yelling out trail hazards for me – which I found helpful the whole time – if anything it kept me paying attention to the trail and as a result I never really fell on the entire run – other than once at the end when some gravel/scree caused both my feet to go out from under me and I fell on my butt. We then arrived at Ant Knolls aid station. They congratulated us on making good time – said we were about 15 minutes ahead of our predicted time from the race trackers (who amazingly had been right on). It was a good thing as later in the day I was going to need the time. We ate (great sausages and hotcakes) quickly and I downed a cup of Coke, filled my bottles and we were on our way. Another runner and her pacer came in as we were leaving and I said something to her about “How about that down hill?” and she said, “Oh that’s nothing to what is coming up”. I should have known. We ran on and my breathing got worse – more labored to try to keep enough air. The uphills began to tax me as far as breathing – I was panting in short breaths – it was feeling like trying to run with a bag over my head. The downhills were better - of course due to the differing oxygen demands. We went up and over to American Fork Canyon with stunning views of Mount Timpanogos and around the side of the mountain – it seemed to go on forever and forever. We finally headed north again – at least in the right direction to the finish! After a lot of ups and down (all staying up high) we came to the grunt and the dive – very steep down hill sections with loose dirt and rocks – while I had understandable soreness in my legs, my feet felt great, and I was able to run down them without trouble. After this was an undulating series of ups and down, just up and down and up and down with no real net loss in elevation. Never ending. Keith started lying to me here – “one more” “just one more”. All lies. I kept thinking we needed to drop down to the valley floor, yet this whole section really stays up at 9600 feet until the last 8 miles or so of the whole race. This is where I really experienced my most difficult time of the race. My breathing was just so labored and taxing. I was hot – I remember asking Keith if he was hot – to which he replied “no” – yet I was sweating from the extra effort of trying to get enough air for the effort I was expending. I was discouraged as I kept thinking the route had to head down any time, but it did not. It was a really mistake to have not run this section in training. At one time I leaned against the coolness of the trunk of smooth white aspen tree by the trail and told Keith, “I am just so miserable ...” and I was. But the only thing to do was to keep moving forward – keep going. But I was losing time, moving slower and slower. Had I not had the breathing trouble I really believe I could have finished up to two hours earlier. We finally came into Pot Bottom, and I was never so glad to see an aid station before. This was the last one at mile 93. 7 miles left and about 4 hours to do it – so I thought I would make it – but in my state of mind – I was not really sure. I could tell the poor aid station people were tired, they had run out of some things, and were so busy trying to help a constant stream of runners coming in who were in all in that 90+ miles state of misery. I have to hand it to all the volunteer aid station personnel – they are just great. We filled our bottles, drank some fluids and got out and on our way. Wow – I had gone 93 miles – that in and of its self seemed incredible to me. I kind of got a bit of recharge knowing that each step was knocking off these last 7 miles. We went up a road that was a bit deceptive, crossing several areas where the stream ran across it. I did not expect uphill again, but sure enough here it came, and we went up and over the next ridge, then down and up again and over the next ridge and so it seemed that we were never going down… Finally we hit a trail off the road that started down and I could finally see the valley below – then the green of the Midway golf course – still far below but below us nonetheless. We ran the trail down and it dropped us off the ridge. We passed a few people coming up the trail looking for their runners. We came a bit lower and hit a flat spot and saw four hikers coming up the trail that yelled out, “here they are” and it was my son, Jay, my brother, Don, and brother-in-laws Jeff and Stan. Wow was it great to see them! It gave me a real positive boost to where I could pick my feet up and run/shuffle with them to the trailhead where we popped out onto the road and would make our way down to the finish. It was great to have the pats on the back from my brothers and son telling me I had done it and was almost there. They came in with us until the end when Keith and I left the road and ran across the grassy lawn of the Homestead to the finish. At the finish line my family and friends had lined up on both sides with their arms up in the air arching over to the person on the opposite side making an arch for me to run under. It was the best finish line crossing I have ever had in all my running years. The finish was great – to have finished was super and a real high, but the best part was having everyone there at the finish – that meant the most. John Grobben was right there to congratulate me as he does every runner and I introduced him to my family. Several other runners that I knew were there with congrats as well. I had a post race shower there at the Homestead, had massage by a great volunteer massage therapist, enjoyed the post race buffet with my family and received my race stats, finishers belt buckle and plaque at the awards ceremony. It was the most painful walk to get my finishers award that I have ever had – the walk of pain with the fake “I feel great” smile. My body was ready to be off my feet. I learned once again that the real enjoyment of any big accomplishment is having others to share it with. I cannot thank my family and friends enough. It is an amazing thing this race and one that I cannot imagine doing alone. Thank you to all who supported me and shared in this great adventure. Special thanks to: My Crew: Beth Foust Jay Foust Jeff Bassett Terry Foust Sr. Honorary Crew (Rose Bassett, Braxton and Austin Bassett, Sandy Foust, Katlyn Foust and Mike Burch who came to several aids stations for support) My Pacers Stan Bassett (13 miles) Keith Klundt (47 miles) My good friend and training partner Brett Bass and training partners Reyn Gallacher and Kirt Dyches All those friends who brought cards, balloons and signs before and after the race, sent emails, decorated the outside of my garage when I got home, and watched my progress on line – you are all the best!