For starters, lets just clarify, I did not RUN 30 miles. Unless your average run pace is anywhere from 17-22 min/miles, you can't really consider what I did as running. Sometimes we walked and other times we shuffled or very slowly jogged. But my Garmin splits show my pace range anywhere from 18-22 min/miles. We covered miles 63-93 in roughly 10 hours. And for much of that time I was scared that I was going to witness Jack going into cardiac arrest in the middle of the pitch, black forest with no aid station in sight for miles. Thank God I had my phone and Facebook. I honestly felt like I had company that could help if something went catastrophically wrong. Silly, I know. Sometimes I was pissed that he was choosing to go on because he was not only putting himself at an unnecessary risk, but also putting his crew and pacers in a really bad position. I was pissed at times because I was exhausted, but felt I had no right to complain because after all, wasn't he going 100 miles? I was pissed when Maria and Marybeth gave me shit for wanting to take a break at mile 85 saying "he's doing 100, you are ONLY doing 30." I was pissed when I knew my hips and calves had enough and I was afraid that I'd set my own training back for the JFK 50 and Jack looks up and says "training for what?" OMG... "F*%K YOU, Jack!" This was unfair. I did not sign up for this 100 mile bullshit, YOU DID. Why should I compromise all I'd been building and preparing for because of this? Besides, this wasn't the "training run" I was expecting. This was hell. Did I mention that I don't deal well with exhaustion? I get really negative and mean. 100 mile runners do not. Which brings me to the part I love and admire about these people.
Maria crewed Jack last year. I cannot imagine how she did that on her own. We could have used a couple of more people (especially pacers to share the wealth of miles). She kept talking about the people she met at the expo and how awesome they were and what a different atmosphere it was from marathoning. Well I've met some pretty great people during marathons so I just figured that was Maria's limited exposure to marathoning that made her feel that way. But she was right. I think this is because the expo was so small and the pasta dinner was part of the expo. We sat down with some guys from Michigan. This was not the first 100 mile race for any of them and some of them, Jack had met at other races before. I began to realize that because ultra running is a smaller community of people than marathoning, you do see the same crazy ass people over and over again and get to know them. The atmosphere was relaxed and fun. I looked around at these guys thinking "how can they be soooo cool and relaxed when they are about to run that far tomorrow?" I would be freaking out. I soon figured out why after crewing and pacing the event.
During the Burning River 100, there were aid stations that ranged from 3.3 - 7 miles along the whole course. The participants were required to check in at every station. They had "drop boxes" which they brought to the expo and turned in to the race volunteers, who distributed them to the aid stations. For example, when Jack got to mile 33, a race volunteer would greet him and yell out "number 70". Another volunteer would go find his self made box full of the things he figured he'd need around that mile and bring it to him or his crew (us). These included shoes or socks (say you were switching from road to trail or vice versa), any food you may want (they had food at every station but sometimes runners have their own things they know work), any first aid stuff you may want, ect. It could be anything in that box. He also had a box labeled "Bring to every station", which Marybeth took with her to all the stations we were allowed to be at (some were deemed a "no crew" stop so we only hit the ones we were allowed at). I really enjoyed going from station to station and setting up camp for a few hours. The fun part was you were with the same people, also crewing and pacing runners. We met some great people and had a lot of fun. At one stop, the race volunteers had made a fire pit and we all put our chairs around it. It was like a non-stop, 24 hour party. You got to learn about the runners and their families and then began to get excited when the runner came it. Some of them looked so great.... like they were just out for a short run. Others did not fair so well. In the beginning, Jack looked awesome and strong. Even still at mile 54, he was seemingly unaffected by the distance. That changed by the time he reached the mile 63 aid station. Between 54 and 63 there was one aid station which was a "no crew" stop. So we set up at mile 63 and waited. After a while, one of the girls we met, Kristin, was camped out with us. Kristin's husband, Kevin, had been running with Jack. Kevin came in, Jack did not. As the sun started to set, I got nervous because I knew they were on trail and we had Jack's headlamp. Plus, last year he had reached this aid station in the daylight. I left Maria and Marybeth and headed along the trail in the woods to find him. About 1/2 mile in, I saw him coming. This was my first video posting. Apparently he had been dealing with vomiting for a few miles. Last year his first episode was at mile 93. He was still pretty upbeat, but was feeling a bit weak. I asked him if he wanted me to jump in then and he said "Yes". I was going to wait until mile 70, but he needed someone with him.
Mile 70
From mile 63-70, he was pretty sick. He was very quiet and becoming progressively weaker. He said "if I don't get something to stay down, there is no way I can finish this." He never complained or said "this sucks" or "I hurt". At the aid station, he asked for a blanket and to lay down. He took small bites of salted bagel, chicken soup, grilled cheese (all provided by the race.... which by the way they have awesome food at these things!). He sipped Gatorade and water, but not much. He then laid there for about 30 minutes. We then took off.
Mile 73
Mile 80
We only had to go 3.3 miles to the next checkpoint. For about 2 of those miles he actually did quite well. By the time we got to aid station, he felt really bad again. He was freezing and asked to take a nap in the van. With a blanket around him and the heater running, I figured this was it. He'd fall asleep and not be able to get back up. Within 2 minutes he popped up and said "let's go". Here is where I began to struggle. Was this even safe anymore? Was I doing the wrong thing by going with what he wanted? He hadn't peed in hours, whereas I was squating in the woods every mile I was so hydrated. Marybeth asked him if he wanted to pull out of the race. He said "No." I was getting really nervous about what was to come, but headed out into the woods once again. We would not see them again until mile 80. This was a long stretch with a very unstable runner. He was so dehydrated. I wasn't quite sure what I would do if he collapsed. When I say it was pitch black out there, I ain't kiddin'. I could not see anything around me but the ground in front from my headlamp. Occasionally we'd run into other runners and chat. I was always relieved with the knowledge that someone, even people as equally weak as Jack, were somewhat around. Not that they could help me if something were to happen. I mean, heck, they were in the same shape he was so it isn't like they could run really fast for help if we needed it. By the time we reached mile 80, I was aching quite a bit. The hills were steep and we were going on 5-6 hours of walk/jog/ shuffling. It was the middle of the night and I was so tired. I kept thinking that if the pacer crashes, the runner is HOSED. I knew he felt awful, but I wasn't sure how much more I could take. My calves, lower back and hips were hurting pretty badly. The good thing was that at this race, the pacers are treated like the runners at the aid stations. I was greeted and asked what I wanted and what they could get me. It was great :). Jack seemed to be perking up and made it out of the station more quickly.Between miles 80-85 were the roughest for me. I pretended I was fine, but I was so not fine. There is no one to tell you that you can do it. But you are constantly telling the runner he can do it. I was trying to make sure Jack was drinking and eating, running with him when he was able. It was the middle of the night and I wanted to text Sarah to call me. I knew if she did, I'd be fine. She'd say "keep him going, chica..." and that's all I'd need. I was on the verge of tears. This was right about when we met Gil, who needed some company and a little encouragement. I listened to Jack and Gil talk and talk and was amazed at how casual and jovial they both sounded. Gil ran when we did and walked when we did. I also learned he is doing the JFK 50 and can't wait to see him again. He says we kept him going, but really, he kept us going.
Mile 93... YIPPEE for me, not so much for Jack
What is so different about marathoning vs. ultra marathoning? Well, at the end of a marathon, you are so beat up and in quite a bit of pain. You have pushed yourself beyond a reasonable physical limit and your body is angry. Marathons drain me physically and mentally like nothing else, or at least the past two have. Ultra marathons do the same thing. But for many more marathoners than ultra marathoners, the time factor is front and center. In an ultra, the distance is so daunting that unless you are one of the elites, it's you against you and the finish is the dangling carrot. I don't think I have it in me to run another marathon like the past two. I will more easily finish a 50 mile ultra than race the clock for that amount of time it takes to run a marathon. I think I'll get to Boston because I'll be that much more comfortable running that pace, but I don't ever want to "race" a marathon again. I don't think I have it in me. So I suppose in essence, ultra-running may be the easy way out for me.
In hindsight, I think Jack knew he was ok, even though his crew wasn't sure. He was never delirious or acting strange. He was always coherent. 2 of the guys we met the night before dropped early. Mark was vomiting severely at mile 50 and after nearly 2 hours at the aid station unable to keep anything down, he turned in his number. Matt's knees were shot after going out at an 8 minute pace and at mile 54 knew he couldn't run again. He laughed and joked and said if anyone wanted to walk the next 50 with him, he was in. But otherwise he could not go on. Neither of these two guys were upset, nor did they feel like failures. Mark came to the finish line Sunday morning to see Jack finish. He was beaming as he talked about ordering enough McDonalds to feed a family of six once he could eat again. He wasn't bitter that Jack was finishing and he didn't. He knew his issue was beyond control and was at peace with that. How do you get pissed at yourself for not being able to keep anything down? I guess he's done so many ultras that he's reached that level of maturity it takes to know when to push through and when to throw in the towel. Kai, who was another guy at that table, wanted a sub 24 hour finish and made it! At one point, the blisters on the top of his feet became so big and painful, he actually cut a slit across the top of his shoe to relieve the pressure and just put a little duct tape over it to avoid rocks and pebbles from getting in on the trails. Kai is a STUD! He was also waiting to greet Jack at the finish.
So the question is, would I crew/pace again? Oh hell yes I would. What a crazy, different and insane adventure that was. To see people in the woods laying down at mile 80 and you ask them if they are ok and they say "never better!" and mean it... that's crazy. Keeping my fingers crossed that Jack gets into Western States next year.
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