The Adventure

Early Arrival:

On Friday, July 21st, I turned 53. After my traditional birthday ice cream lunch with family, CRV packed with enough gear and food to cover any last minute changes in running strategy, I headed north to Indian Lake and the camp ground at the Wakely Dam finish line. I arrived around 4:00 PM, checked in with RD Jim at the check-in tent, and set up my 2-person Eureka a mere 50 feet from the gushing sounds of the dam. A last minute phone check with Fast John before leaving home convinced me to can my plans for an elaborate, home cooked pasta dinner over a camp stove. Instead, I packed two turkey subs from Subway.

About 1/3 of the Wakely runners were camped at the finish line. After some brief introductions, I realized these folks... men and women... with average looking bodies... were all... ultra-runners! The real thing... gods in running shoes! These folks had run ultras I had only read and dreamed about for a year. The JFK 50 Miler, Western States 100... the list was endless! And, then I knew. I was in ultra-heaven!

Fast John arrived around 5:30 PM. We spoke gear, hydration and running strategies with Diane and her partner who were commemorating 9 years together at the Wakely, and other real ultra-runners. We picked up hydration and fuel tips we'd surely use at our next ultra. We spoke with RD Jim who offered good advice and had humorous recollections of most of the runners in each of the previous races..

Fast John was giddy with nervousness and excitement. He hadn't slept in two days and hadn't eaten in one. After some ultra-chat around the camp fire, a sub for dinner, I put Fast John to sleep with a swift rock to the side of the head. He didn't stir until the diesel engine of our shuttle bus rumbled at 3:45 AM.

Early Start:

Although my Suunto alarm was set for 3:45 AM, I awoke at 3:30; the temperature was about 60-degrees. I was organized. I donned my running gear, shaved in the ceiling light of my CRV, sponge bathed, and had breakfast - a bagel smothered in soy nut butter and OJ. Then there was piping hot (sort of) fresh coffee... (On the way north the previous night, I had the idea to stop at Stewarts' for coffee to go; one I drank... the other I stowed in my cooler for breakfast!) And then, there was the traditional purging of gear. I needed to knock some weight off my 8-lb pack. In a last minute frenzy before boarding the shuttle bus, I ditched my 7-oz. rain shell, heavy eye glass holder, 2 protein bars, 2 gels, a few unnecessary Band Aides, and the bagel - about 1+ lbs!

The bus left later then it's scheduled 4:30 departure time. We arrived at the start line some 90-minutes later. Cars were parked zigzagged in the small dirt parking lot. Big Blue, our school bus outfitted for 5 year olds, jockeyed for a parking spot. Spectators and the rest of the Wakely running field were milling about... some, running into the woods for a last minute pee.... others, checking and double checking their fanny packs. After group pictures by RD Jim, and a brief race intro at the start line, the Wakely was off and running around 7:00 AM.

The Start Line Parking Area	Fast John: Ready to Rock... "Do I look like I need caffeine?"	"g": Starting in last position seemed just right!

The Race:

Fast John and I deliberately started at the end of the pack. The weather was about 65-degrees, but humid! My plan was to try and run less then a 14 minute mile pace, not get in anyone's way, and finish the course healthy. I started off slowly and after about a mile I realized John's chatting/gabbing/running pace was too slow for me. I picked up my speed and gradually forged ahead. I had only run 3 times the previous 2 weeks, so I was feeling a little fat and slow.

RD Jim (far left): In charge and organized.	Peeing in their shorts at their first ultra!	Start Line

The trail looked nothing like I remembered from April's fastpacking run. The foliage was overgrown, and parts of the trail were a little sketchy to recognize at times. Blue trail blazes were frequent and comforting to see because soon after the race started, I seemed to be running alone for about 5 miles. Then, for several miles, I became the annoying trail runner who frequently past the same 3 runners, only to be passed by them when I stopped for a pack adjustment, water bottle fill at a stream, etc.

At mile-8 it began to unexpectedly drizzle - not what weather.com predicted at all! At mile-12 my Garmin malfunctioned. I lost satellite signal and when it returned about a mile later, I noticed the overall distance jumped from 12 to 19 miles. My mind buzzed: Did I actually run 19 miles? Did I imagine the jump in over-all mileage on my GPS? But, if I ran 19 miles, I must have passed the midpoint trail sign... but, I would have recognized that turning point from my April run! Where is everyone? I've been running by myself for too long! Is this the right trail? Am I lost?

At mile 15.x I came to a first trail sign. While taking it's picture to commemorate this remarkable and soothing event (I'm not lost after all), Charlie came up the trail and assured me we were on course. (Cool.) Checking the mileage on the trail sign, and knowing I had about 18 miles to the finish line, I reset my Garmin. I figured I could restart the GPS program and resume running data feed to take to the finish line - like, the all important pace and total distance stats.

Charles and I reached the 16.1 mile trail sign in 4 hours even. Half way there and I was already one hour off my projected finish time.

The second half of the course became more strenuous and challenging because the infrequent mud traps along the trail became signature obstacles due to heavy rain and flooding. Earlier in the race, as a more experienced trail runner from PA past me, he commented, "You know... it's easier to just run through them. You're more likely to get hurt trying to dodge them."

But, I wasn't too sure about this advice. After all, I had never run for 8-9 hours in mud caked, wet shoes. What would my dogs look like after the race? Swollen piles of bloody, painful blisters? Then a strange phenomena occurred. At about mile-17 (who knows... my Garmin lost it's signal for good), my mud dodging strategy shifted. To conserve energy and to avoid a painful spill, I started to run through each shoe-sucking mud and water hole. Yup... right down the middle of the trail... right through each water hazard! "Not bad," I thought, "I'm running like the pros!" Then it occurred to me. Each cold pool of water and mud actually had a soothing effect on my tired feet! Cool. Double Cool!

Nothing but pelting rain, mud and wilderness. It all looked pretty much the same. Remote, dense woods permeated with periodic flooded streams with washed out bridges...	...an occasional Wakely Outlaw...	...and lakes. Cool... very cool.

My pace was good, just slower then I had expected. I was diligent with taking two salt pills and 1-2 gel packs hourly with plenty of water. At most streams I topped off my water purifier bottle. I honored my commitment to drink each mile and more during refills.

At about mile-18 my pace crossed paths with Harry (Montreal), and then later, Kelly (NY). Here's where my race became rich with camaraderie and inspiration. It became clear that it was OK (and perhaps desirable) for me to be the lead pacer as we ran for long stretches, walked up some steep hills, and stopped to refill water bottles. Harry (a seasoned ultra-runner) seemed to enjoy my pace and offered constant encouragement to walk when I needed. Kelly felt solid about running with us and preferred group to solo running. We joked and shared our respective bios with each other. This was cool. Very cool. This was ultra-running! This I'm going to keep doing.

At about mile-23 I felt nauseous. It would not have taken much to throw up! I stopped running, declared my need to walk, had a gel, water and salt pill... and 10 minutes later... I was running and feeling good. (Really.) All the while, Harry assured me he'd stick right along side me (walking or running) and enjoy the company.

By now the rain was pelting so hard it kept pushing my running shorts down to my ankles. The trail was so thick and deep with mud and water that we often sank to our calves. On several occasions I nearly surrendered a trail shoe to the mud-sucking gods. Never the less, over the course of each mile, I kept thinking how much I loved this run... this adventure! I was tired, but livin' the dream. I really did like this ultra-thing! Pelting rain, rivers of mud and bliss. Man... I was happy!

At the last last lean-to on the course, I realized I had incorrectly calculated and recorded the elapsed mileage on my map. The trail sign at the lean-to indicated we had only 4.4 miles to the ranger station and another 0.5 miles to the Wakely Dam. Doing some basic recalculating with Harry and Kelly (geez... we were experiencing 28-mile-brain-freeze), we figured our last leg had been 6 miles instead of 3! No wonder that stretch of woods went on for ever!

Then there was the last stretch. The never ending 4.4 miles to the ranger cabin. Once we hit the dirt road with about 2 miles to go, Harry kicked-up the pace. Our dream to finish under 8-hours was dashed... but, by how many minutes? Passing the ranger cabin and crossing the field to the Wakely Dam was pure joy. I was moments away from running my first ultra, and aside from sore quads, I felt great!

Then, the coolest thing happened. Kelly, Harry and I crossed the finish line at exactly the same time - 8:12:04! We had shared the victory just like the previous 13 miles! RD Jim took the traditional crossing-the-finish-line photos for his Wakely web site and then offered us each the choice of a water, Gatorade, soda or brewskie... we all chose the later. Man... did I feel good. "Cool", I mutter to myself, "I'm muttered the JFK 50 Miler in November! Very cool!"

Kelly, Harry and "g": 8:12:04 Moments after crossing the Wakely Dam... Time for a brewski!