What the heck is the Kettle Moraine 100 Endurance Run? Well, it's a 100 mile endurance run. Run by individual runners. Seriously. 1-0-0 miles. The race also hosts a 100K and a 100 mile relay. It's run in the beautiful Kettle Moraine State Forest in Wisconsin. It's a gorgeous place and it offers up a "challenging" trail run. Challenging is an understatement.
With Jeff's normal crew chief (his wife) out of town, I had opened my fat yap and volunteered to crew for him. Bear in mind, I had zero previous experience in crewing a race. Five completed 5K's and a subscription to "Runner's World" does not an expert make, can I just tell you - it makes for a bit of bumbling dolt, but hey, desperate times make for desperate actions. So Jeff took a bet on me and put me through a crash course in crewing an endurance run. Here's a few things I learned:
- Lack of skin elasticity is a sign of dehydration
- Disorientation can be fun, especially in conversation
- Blisters are real buggers
- Soup is a miracle drug at 62 miles, not so much at 85 miles
- Running in temps in the upper 50's is a treat
- A combo of water, powdered Propel and Hammer Gel is an even greater miracle drug than soup
- Trail running beats the living snot out of the soles of your feet
And those were just a few of my insights from this little weekend event. I got up at 2AM on Saturday in order to meet Jeff at 230AM, so we could hightail it up north to the race. We got there in plenty of time, allowing us some time to relax before things got under way. This is a low-key, laid back race - not a lot of drama and no prima donnas. You don't have a pile of elite runners jockeying for an early start time. The race director is a good guy who seemed to know everyone running and made sure everyone felt supported. Anyway, things started to get going around 5AM as people started arriving:
The air was fairly electric with energy and it was easy to get caught up in it. I know I did, in spite of being just this side of frantic, thinking about all the things I could screw up and have a negative impact on Jeff's run. The last thing I wanted to do was to have to call his wife and say, "Um...yeah, I missed an aid station and we lost him" Or some such foolishness. Anyway, before we knew it, it was 6AM and the runners were at the starting line and on their way out:
Jeff is in the center background in the white hatI would not see him again for another seven miles. I left the starting line and jumped in the car to head to the first aid station. I had my two bags, chock full o'stuff, and at each station, I would have those bags at my side, drinks prepped and ready, along with anything else he might need. A word about the aid stations - great. The volunteers could not have been better and man were these places stacked - anything the runner needed to refuel or hydrate appropriately. And the volunteers were just so supportive. The stations were also a great place to get to know other crew. Most of these runners had run multiple endurance events and their crew were experienced folks. They were very helpful to dolts like me.
This would be my routine for most of the day. Meeting my runner at each aid station. It got easier pretty quickly, in terms of having things at the ready and sensing where his head was at and what he needed. His times were really good too and the weather was cooperating. Cool but good for running. It did rain for a bit in the early afternoon. Here's how it looked at one of the aid stations:
The time at the aid stations gave me an opportunity to think about the athleticism of these runners. It takes a unique breed to be able to do this - to run for such a long distance. To stay motivated, to not think about the pain, to be so focused on a goal. I was in awe. And they were having a good time - you could see it and feel it.
Jeff had asked me to run about eight miles of the run with him. At mile 62, 100 mile runs are permitted to pick up a pacer. That pacer could run the balance of the race (that's the 38 mile fun run - spank me - how is that fun?) or a certain section. So I was to run 62 to 70 with him. Another friend would run the balance of the race with him after that. I'd been really careful about how I'd eaten all day as I was not going to screw this up for him. When he came across the 62 mile mark at about 715PM, I was ready. We took off at an easy pace, walking the uphills in order to save his quads. I was impressed by the camaraderie along the trail. Runners cheered one another on as they passed each other. It was pretty cool. I was probably too cheerful in my greetings to the runners, given that I'd not been running for 62 plus miles. (Note to self - dial that down in future races.) Before I knew it, we were at the end of my leg:
There was still plenty of race to go. At this point, it was getting fairly chilly and the race pace had slowed dramatically. I was overwhelmed by the runners who did not have crew and who were doing this completely on their own. What drive! At 2AM, they'd been running for 20 hours. Volunteers still going strong. This was one of the stations at about that time:
Around 430AM Sunday, after 86 miles of running (86!), the race came to an honorable end for us. It was clear that his body was done. So he called it. How can you argue with that? He had just run 86 miles. He knew his tank was dry. I was just amazed by all that he had done. Very few people can say they've done something like that.
So we loaded him in the car and we headed home. Neither of us had showered so it's an understatement to say that car was ripe. As we drove home, I was so wishing we still had our hot tub - the one we left in California. I also was wishing we had a full bathroom on the first floor of the house. I was not eager to go up the stairs.
Anyway, what a great dang day. I'm hooked. I'll crew another one anytime and I'll run some of it. My hat's off to Jeff. Awesome, my friend. Awesome.
2 comments:
stuff like this gives me the chills. people that can run like that are so inspiring. what a great experience! congrats on the 8 miles!
A-M-A-Z-I-N-G!!
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