Subject: Zane Grey Heatline Race Report (long) Date: Mon, 30 Apr 2001 16:42:42 -0600 From: Dale Perry I signed up for this little ditty of a 50+ miler with the notion it would be a good heat training run for Western States later in June. Boy, did I get a rude awakening! What a wake up call for me to get my act together between now and Western States for some serious heat training. I thought it was hot last year, but this year seemed hotter. But, this is from someone who just came off from two weeks of two feet of snow being dumped on his front yard in the foothills of Colorado! What's really ironic is when we got near Payson AZ on Friday afternoon, it was cloudy, relatively cool (low 70's), and a bit of light rain. Perfect conditions for this heat-challenged ClydesDale. Too bad it didn't stick around for Saturday's festivities. I drove down to the land of sun and rocks with a fellow runner from Colorado, Kurt Blumberg, who would be known as the "Full Monty" during the run. Part of the "Zany-ness" of the Zane Grey run is the opportunity to moon the aid station volunteers and the RD's at the same time, and hopefully get some sort of "ass" award in the process. I was content with just showing my bum to a bevy of strangers who probably remember me more for my "wise cracks" than my face (for those who know me, that's probably a compliment). No, Kurt wanted more, and told me on the way down there he was going to go through the aid stations sans shorts. Strange? Not really, since I had the pleasure of witnessing this incredible feat last year during a 40 mile training run at night, when his shorts got sticky from a leaking camelback of Cytomax, and he took them off to alleviate the dreaded "Cytomax chafe" on his ass. I would receive the "Master Ass" award for my hard-earned efforts at mooniness. Not sure if this means I'm an olde farte ass or a master at making everyone sick. I did this run last year and vowed I wouldn't return again. Being known for not having much common sense, I returned for a try at bettering my time of 13:23. I should have stayed home. Well, no. I enjoyed myself, but didn't better my time. I finished in 14:21, nearly an hour longer than last year. But I finished. Why? Read on, McDuff. The race started dark and early Saturday morning at 5, and the temperature was cool (low 40's) and significantly warmer than last year's 30-some degree start. People were complaining about the cold, I thought it was just right standing around in my shorts and light jacket. An omen that it was going to be warm later. At 5 AM, we were off after Linda led us by lantern light to the start at the Pine trailhead marker. The run starts off with a gentle reminder that this isn't your ordinary 50 mile run: a nice little rocky climb for about a mile or so. After 20 minutes, the flashlights were off, and so was my jacket. I did this first 7 mile section last year in 1:33. I wanted to take it a bit easier this year and hopefully save myself and do it in 1:40. I got to the first aid station in 1:41. Upon arrival, Geri was there and said: "Drop 'em Dale". I did, and left in a hurry when everyone gasped in horror. Not sure why. Was it the varicose veins or the pasty white cheeks? I ran the next 10 miles with "Frozen Ed" Furtagh, and he kept the time passing with tales of Barkley and other noteworthy ultras. We kept the pace going at about what I was wanting, hoping to save myself for the dreaded burnt section of the course which meant no trees to shade oneself. I also happened to look down at my legs and noticed the traditional Zane Grey battle scars from all the bushes and shrubs hugging the trail and grabbing at my legs. One of the trophies I would receive from the race no doubt. I got to the next aid station in a little under 4 hours. Refueled, re- hydrated, and re-mooned all who wanted to watch. This time, no gasps, but a lot of laughter. Some one took a picture. I guess maybe the veins had burst or something. Some one said I had scratches on my ass. I guess I shouldn't have used the natural TP on the course. Feeling somewhat em-bare-assed, I left after sating my thirst and hunger for more trail fun. The one thing bad about this course is that every time you leave an aid station, you have a big ass climb to deal with. I wasn't disappointed, and after a few miles, had reached the western extent of the burnt section of the run. At this point, it was still fairly scenic, but that would some change upon arrival to the next aid station, Hell's Gate at mile 25. I decided to stay here a bit longer and make sure I drank extra and ate a bit before departing. For an aid station with no crew access, this was probably one of the best: it's out in the middle of nowhere, and they had ice by the scoopfuls. Upon leaving, I showed my gratitude to all the wonderful volunteers who pampered me with attention and concern with a full moon rising. Again, laughter and a comment about a new category of ass: red ass or something. The next section is the longest 8 miles in trail running history. I swear the length is mismeasured, cause it just goes on forever. The heat was starting to get to me, and I tried to deal with it, knowing it would be over in a few hours. Luckily, I had enough water with me to keep me from getting dehydrated, but the heat was really slowing me down. This is good training for Western I thought. Funny how one forgets those nasty little bits of the course that makes one vow never to return. This was one of them. I had forgotten about the incessant little climbs that greeted you at each and every turn of the trail. And the rocks. And the heat. At about 3 miles before the next aid station, I got passed by Pierce Cornelius, an incredible 70 year old ultrarunner who made this "youngster" look like a wimp. I was dragging my sorry butt and he just sailed on by, making it look like child's play. I hope I can still do these things when I'm 60! Got to the Hatchery aid station (mile 33) in 8:25, and stayed around for about 15 minutes drinking and eating. I really wanted this run to end, but decided to keep on truckin' for a finish, no matter how ugly. I got off my sorry ass and, before checking out, mooned the station with little fanfare. I guess they'd seen better by this point. The next section of 11 miles was gonna be long, and true to form, it took me 3:40 to get to Christopher Creek aid station. Most of this section consisted of a lot of ups, a lot of rocks, and a nice stream crossing to get one's feet wet. This is one section where I wouldn't want to be on after dark, especially for a first-timer. There were many times I had to stop and look around before proceeding to make sure I was actually on the "right" trail. A few panic moments also occurred when I caught myself zoning out and not paying attention to course markers (silver diamonds on trees) and wondering if I was still on track. My hat goes off to Geri, Linda, and all the ones responsible for marking the course this year: absolutely first rate. There is no reason why one could get lost, except for inattentiveness. Last year I got off course 3 times, this year, none. Well, except for a bit near the start, but I was following others. Got to Mr. Trail Safety's Aid Station and Playmate Checkpoint. There were some goofy guys wearing bunny ears and white jump suits. I was tempted to ask them to change the oil in my car, but then I realized it was Mr. Trail Safety and Deputy Randy. Again, I sat down and ate, drank, and pretty much whined about how hot it was, yada yada yada. I decided I'd gotten enough wisdom from these wonderful people, and again showed my undying gratitude and mooned all to see. Mr. Trail Safety yelled in pain at what he saw. I apologized for the crappy moon. And off I went for yet another climb of blissful trail running. At this time I knew I wasn't going to get my goal off sub-13, but had a new goal: finish before dark. This is actually the tamest part of the course. Pretty smooth trail and very runnable. After the traditional big ass climb out of the aid station and stream crossing, I found myself running the last 5 miles. It wasn't fast, but it was running. I managed to make my way to the finish line just before dark, and was greeted my cheers and yells. At first I thought they were genuinely happy for my finish, but soon found out they were happy that there was one less runner to look for in the dark. In all seriousness, a great race, well-run aid stations, and a fun crowd to run with and a challenging course to test one's self. In a way, regardless of my slow finish time, this was great training for Western. Not the rocks, but the heat. It really hit me hard that I'm going to have to work hard the next few months before Western and deal with the heat, or I will not have a good time there. This was 80 degree heat. Nothing compared to what I'll see at Western, where the canyons get up into the 120's. Too bad Geri and Linda are retiring from this race. I'm sure the next round of management will do just as well, but it was always nice to see either Geri or Linda at the aid stations providing support for all the runners. They'll be missed by all of us. ClydesDale