Race Recaps

  Race date: August 24, 2024  A race starts the night before, I keep finding out as I lay in bed, trying to fall asleep. Like intruders, in come new thoughts about race preparations. On my pillow I rethink my water strategy, and decide to bring my 1.5 L back bladder, in addition to my 500 ML front vest bottles. Good thing, too, because while the first aid station is only 4.75 miles from the start, it is also over 3,300 feet in elevation from the start.  Slow, time-consuming miles consume more water. It's a small race - 16 of us gather in the dark at 5:20 AM for the race briefing. I've only run one other race in the dark, last year, and my headlamp had a lousy strap. It kept bouncing on my head. For this race I bring a smaller, lighter one we've had in the camping box for years. I tested it in a closet at home, and it seemed fine, but out in the open wilderness it's no brighter than the half moon above. I lock step with a guy in front of me who has a good headlamp and ta

Race date: July 22, 2023  At the pre-race meeting, the evening before, we're instructed on how to navigate the course successfully. "Try not to throw up," the medical director mentions, since it can deplete your body of valuable liquids and electrolytes. I mentally add that to my list of tries for tomorrow. Someone else on the race staff steps forward and says that on the section of trail he marked a week earlier, mountain critters of some type have been eating the colored sprinkler flags he put in the ground. So we're told we may need to keep an eye out for bare metal wire sticking up from the ground. At least that portion of the race will be in daylight. Race start time is 2:00 AM. Check in at 1:30. We'll be working a graveyard shift in the mountains. I have the seats folded down in the back of my SUV and make myself a little bed. The guy next to me gets into the passenger seat of his car and leans it all the way back. We both nod to each other, acknowledging th

Race date: May 6, 2023 The night before the Salt Lake Foothills race is the usual tossing and turning garbage. I manage a few "naps" over the span of midnight to 5 am. I don't know why I become so nocturnal before a race. I say to my brain, "Look you idiot, you're going to be running for half the day tomorrow - let's go to sleep!" And it says, "No, you'll be carrying me with you while you run, you donkey!" (Except it uses the Biblical version of donkey.) I wake up in a daze, eyes puffy, and make the drive to the mouth of Emigration Canyon. It's cold this time of the morning. 40 F and windy. I hem and haw over how to dress for the weather. I settle for a t-shirt and Allen Iverson arm sleeves I got from a golfing event at work, small knit gloves, and an ear band over my cap. Like livestock we're corralled to the starting line. At this point whatever I'm carrying is what will sustain and protect me over the next 31 miles. I'd l

Race date: July 16, 2022 One of the most fitful night's sleep one can have occurs the night before a race. I'm on diphenhydramine (I have allergies, so no foul play here) and melatonin, but I'm restless. The ceiling fan is too loud. There's a grind to it, like the gears are off. It's too hot, so I can't turn it off. I open the window to the little motel room we're staying in, but then I hear the cars driving by. After burning a few hours of possible sleep I drift into a half sleep. The bed I'm on turns into a sort of parking lot and I'm trying to find a space to park, but every time I do I realize I'm parked in the wrong spot. I tell myself kind words about how you can be just fine missing a night's rest. Then my alarm sounds. At 4:45 AM I get in the car with my wife and she drives me to the race location. I lather on sunscreen and apply vaseline to my armpits. I've chafed there enough times to remember this trick. I catch the race direct

Race date: July 24, 2021 The starting area is packed with healthy-looking, capable trail runners. I always get a bit intimidated around such a group. I eat a banana, stretch, and enter the crowd. Soon the gun goes off. We begin a steep climb immediately. Many of us begin walking it because of the grade.  A drone circles overhead. I joke to those around me that we better run while we’re being videoed. Nobody even chuckles. Tough crowd.  We run by the top of a chair lift, then begin running crisscross across the mountain, at an angle which keeps the grade low. It feels good to be out of the climb and running with more of a stride. Then we climb more. As we near the summit we reach a large slope of loose shale and other rock. It’s almost impossible to run on. I reach the first aid station. It’s at the top of the tram lift. My body feels good, considering the amount of elevation I’d just climbed. I just ran from the lodge of a ski resort to the top of a mountain. 3000’ of elevation gain in