« He’s one of the humblest guys I’ve ever talked to » – Teri Smith, RunningRelays.com

Monumental Effort loves when people submit stories to us!  In fact, that is the vision we have for the site.  We want and we need to hear your stories about “regular people” accomplishing extraordinary things.  The following story was sent to us by Teri Smith who maintains the blog www.runningrelays.com and this account originally appeared on Teri’s site earlier this month.   Teri feels that Eric’s story needs to be out there and M.E. definitely agrees.  This is certainly a “worthy” story Teri!  Thank you so much for sharing.  Here’s hoping we could help Eric attain his goal! 

Solo Runner Eric Salkeld to Run 216.6 Miles To Honor His Student Levi

Eric Salkeld is looking to make Cascade Lakes Relay history. If all goes as planned, he will be the first solo runner to cover the entire 216 miles…alone.  He’ll be facing the heat, the dust, the hills and the bugs without the benefit of a teammate to hand off to when the going gets rough. He has no illusions about what he’s going to do this summer, because he’s been there before.

You may remember Salkeld from last year’s Hood to Coast relay.  He ran the course without a team, starting Thursday morning and finishing on an empty beach Sunday evening.  (Articles are here and here.) There was no fanfare or even recognition from the race officials; in fact, the organization had turned down his request to run it as a team of one.  He ran it completely on his own.

Eric Salkeld at Hood-to-Coast

“I had trained for it,” he explains, “so I decided to run it anyway.”  No one knew he was out there running – there were no special cheers or words of encouragement from the other teams. The race was tough for Salkeld. The night before he ran, his main crew member had a business emergency, so Salkeld got little sleep before the start.  The next morning, his friend dropped him off at Timberline Lodge and had to leave.  Salkeld was on his own.  He laughs as he remembers going in to the Sandy Fred Meyer and buying supplies, which he proceeded to carry with him in plastic bags.

Salkeld will be more prepared for the Cascade Lakes Relay, which is welcoming him with open arms.

“We are extremely excited to support Eric in his effort to raise awareness and charitable contributions for Levi and the Childrens Cancer Association while running the entire 216 mile Cascade Lakes Relay course.  Eric is an inspiration to us all and we look forward to celebrating his accomplishment,” says Scott Douglass, CLR Race Director.

Salkeld has a crew lined up that will support him for the entire distance.  He knows that the course is remote – there will be no stopping in the local Fred Meyer if he runs out of food. He’ll start Thursday morning around 5 am, and he’s hoping to finish by Saturday evening so he can enjoy the beer garden with the other teams.  If you see him on the course, he would love to hear your words of encouragement.

While Salkeld ran last year’s Hood to Coast just to see if he could do it, this year he has taken on a special cause.  He is dedicating the run to one of his students, Levi, who is battling childhood leukemia.  He’s inspired by Levi’s positive attitude, whether he’s coming in to school on his own two feet, with crutches or even in a wheelchair.  Like any great teacher, Salkeld wants to give Levi something to be a part of and to look forward to.  He also wants to raise money and awareness for Portland’s Children’s Cancer Association, a local non-profit that supports children and their families who are dealing with cancer.

Levi and Eric

Salkeld will draw on Levi’s strength when the race gets tough.  ”He’s so positive, even with this [cancer] hanging over his head,” says Eric.  And Salkeld knows he’ll need that strength.  ”I have to battle the demons that come – wanting to stop, boredom, hunger, blisters…You look at the run and see when things are crumbling around you. You figure out how to keep going,” he says.  Running for Levi will help him keep going even when it is rough.

Surprisingly, Salkeld does not consider himself a serious runner. He does not run 100 mile races – only this set of relays in the past three years.  (He also attempted a solo run of HTC in 2008 but had to stop in Olney because of an Achilles injury.)  He’s run about 15 marathons.  His training consists of nearly 18 miles per day, including a run commute of over 10 miles, and then a second run commute of between 6 and 8 miles to his night jobs (he works 3).  On the weekends, he has a 62 mile loop he likes to run that stretches from Tigard to Newberg, over Bald Peak and then back in to Portland over Burnside before returning home to Tigard.  He might not consider himself a serious or inspiring runner, but to the rest of the world, what he is doing is nothing short of amazing.

He leaves me with this thought: “Every time you start a run, you think you’re good to go. But you get to that point when you wonder why you’re doing it.”  This July, Salkeld will probably ask himself this question many times over the course of his 216 mile journey, but this time, he’ll have the image of Levi’s face to keep him going.

If you’d like to support Eric Salkeld’s epic effort, please consider making a donation to Eric’s fundraising page for the Children’s Cancer Association.  He’s hoping to raise at least $3,000. Funds raised by Eric’s run will help support important programs like Chemo Pals, a mentor program that pairs compassionate adults with kids undergoing chemotherapy. Levi has benefited tremendously from this program and would like to be able to support the program for other children.  The CCA also maintains a wish list; you may donate items in Eric & Levi’s name.

Runner, Teacher, Humanitarian

Feel free to comment on this or other Monumental Effort stories, and please don’t be shy to send us your M.E. story.  Thanks again Teri!

Gotta run,

Vince

« There was significant shrinkage! » – George Costanza

What is the recommended attire for an arctic swim?  When Lewis Pugh plunges into icy waters, he is clad in only a Speedo, a bathing cap and swimming goggles.

Also known as The Human Polar Bear, Lewis Pugh is the only person in the world to have completed long distance swims in every ocean.  Some of these swims include a 204K swim in Norway down the longest fjord in the world and a 100K tour around the Cape of Good Hope in South Africa.  But Lewis Pugh’s most remarkable accomplishments are his record swims in the frigid Arctic Ocean.

Researchers in Chicago have performed tests on Lewis and have determined that he is the only known person capable to control his own body temperature.  Before he dives into near freezing waters, part of Pugh’s preparation involves listening to music while doing visualization exercises.  By the time he takes his plunge, Lewis’s body temperature is several degrees Celsius higher, thus allowing his body to withstand the cold for a longer period of time.  On his record-breaking swim in the Arctic, Lewis completed the one kilometer distance in just over eighteen minutes.  After the swim, Lewis admitted that he wanted to abandon the attempt on every stroke. The North Pole waters made his swims in Antarctica feel like a dip in a Club-Med pool.

This month, Lewis will do a swim under the summit of Mount Everest at approximately 5300 meters.  The purpose of this Monumental Effort is to call attention to how climate change is affecting the Himalayan region.  On his website Pugh claims:  “We are living in a global environment. What happens in one part of the world will directly impact other parts. We must stop arguing about whether China, the USA or the EU should act first. Given the urgency every country needs to put in place every solution at its disposal.”

A graduate from Cambridge University, Lewis lives in London, England where he worked as a maritime lawyer for several years.  Nowadays, when not training for his next polar dip, Lewis travels the World sharing his message about the fragility of our planet and campaigning world leaders on the importance of slowing climate change.  Every year, Pugh gives over one hundred motivational and inspiring speeches at various conferences.  His topics range from leadership, to goal setting and overcoming obstacles, and of course suggestions for protecting the environment.

Read more at:  http://www.lewispugh.com/

The story of Lewis Pugh was recommended to us by a friend and subscriber to Monumental Effort.  Coach V read this story in an edition of Reader’s Digest magazine and shared this issue with us.  If you have an M.E. story (or if you have an idea that we could research for you), please share it by clicking the “submit your story” tab at the top of the page.

Gotta run,

Vince

[Editor's Note:  The following post was submitted by community member Ange ]

Since now is the time to register for the 2010 Canadian Death Race in Alberta, I thought I would share my story from last years race… happy reading!

The Canadian Death Race – 2009 – Angie’s report

So the one question that is asked from the Canadian Death Race is – Are you tough enough? I have to say ‘hell yes’ I’m tough enough – will I try this race again ‘hell no’!

Karl, Wouter, and I arrived in Edmonton at 8:30am and waited for Martin (Wouter’s son) to meet us from Vancouver. Wouter is the man I met through the CDR email list of solo participants who happens to live near me. Wouter and I trained together a few times and planned to run the entire race together. Karl came to crew for me and Martin for Wouter. The drive from Edmonton to Grand Cache was beautiful but uneventful.  Both Wouter and I were eager to get to race central and pick up our race kits.

The entire town of Grand Cache supports the CDR; in fact, I think if it wasn’t for the race the town would struggle to survive. Every lamp post had a Death Race flag attached and signs were in all of the store windows. We went to pick up our kits and purchased a prayer flag which would fly high atop Mt Hamel during the race in hopes to keep us safe ).

There were 230 solo racers that registered for the race, plus close to 250 relay teams of 2 to 5 racers. A small expo or ‘Death Fest’ as they called it was set up and a band was getting ready to play once the official race talk was over with. Dale Tuck (a.k.a. Dr. Death) the race director got on stage in full death gear to tell us what we could expect during each leg of the race. He was very comical in his description of each leg but was able to reinforce the potential of what could happen out there. One of the key things about the day he wanted us to be aware of was that the temperatures were expected to be unseasonably warm. I have to say I was much more nervous about doing this race then any other race, mostly I think it had to due with the 3 mountains I had to summit.  As I sat there in the middle of the field with all of the other racers listening to Dr. Death, I looked around me and staring straight back was Flood Mountain, Grand Mountain, and the massive Mount Hamel. I thought, sure I can handle Flood & Grand, but Hamel, I don’t know about that. As it turned out it was Flood Mountain I should have been worried about!

We woke Saturday morning to a sunny blue sky and warm temperatures. Our plan was to carry one bottle for the first leg (19k) and then grab our back packs for the rest of the race. Karl and Martin came to the start to see us off and as the clock counted down to zero, Wouter and I hit the port-a-potties one last time. Then, we were off. The crowed support was amazing in town. We did a short run through the streets, then into the forest we went, hitting a short steep hill to start. It seemed the heat hit me right away. Wouter was ahead of me but I kept him in sight. The trail was very narrow and everyone ran at a quick pace. As we neared the first check point I was feeling the heat. We went through the transition area and beeped in with our timing stick (yes we had to carry a timing stick and a coin during the entire race, if we lost either one we were out). Karl & Martin were there to switch our packs for us and bring us what we needed to continue on to Leg 2 (a.k.a. the hardest leg of the race).

The weight of my back pack was noticeable heading into Leg 2. Within a kilometre or two we started heading up Flood Mountain. It was a long slow climb which got steeper and steeper as we got to the top. I was struggling a lot now with the heat and elevation. Wouter waited for me several times to catch up – the last couple of kilometres to the top were the hardest. It was straight up and several runners had to stop to catch their breath on many occasions, myself included. When I finally reached the top Wouter was waiting for me, I beeped in and we headed back down Flood. By this time I was really hurting and contemplating calling it quits at the emergency aid-station (about 9k away). The down hill was very steep but we were actually lucky with the dry weather and the mud slide we thought was going to be there was not. The downhill continued and then it was uphill again, then down, then up… I think you get the picture… some people actually brought pillows that they strapped to their butts to slide down on! When I saw Wouter again I told him to go on without me as I was 99% sure I’d DNF at the aid-station. I rested for a few minutes and then continued down to the aid-station. When I got there I told one of the volunteers that I was dizzy and felt sick, she told me to sit down, drink and eat and rest for a bit. I wasn’t the only one in this condition, several runners were feeling the same and I later learned that many dropped out at that point. The medic at the aid-station asked me a few questions and told me I needed to drink and pee more but I was okay to go on if I wanted too. I asked if Grand Mountain was as steep of a climb as Flood and he said it was on an old dirt road but had a few steep climbs to it. I decided I was feeling a little better so I would at least finish Leg 2.

By the time I got to the top of Grand (which was a breeze compared to Flood) I was feeling much better, the temperature started to drop and there were a few rain drops coming down. I started to put a smile on my face going down Grand and then the thunder came and the down pour and of course the downhill became a mud slide – 1.5k straight down and then 1.5k straight up… I’m sure Dr. Death was laughing when he picked this course! Once I climbed the 1.5k up the terrain turned to a continuous up and down for many kilometres. At one point my feet slipped out from under me 3 times due to the mud and I was on my ass sliding down. The runner behind me was pretty much doing the same and he could hear me laughing; it was the only way down the mountain! This was actually the most fun I had during the race! The scenery during the entire race was beautiful but this part of the race made me laugh and I decided if I can make the cut-off for Leg 2 then I will continue to Leg 3.

As I entered the transition area to Leg 3 Karl was calling out my name.  I was running up the hill chatting with another runner and had forgotten that Wouter must have told them that I was going to DNF.  Karl was surprised to see me running and asked if I was going to continue.  I thought sure why not, I’ll see how far I get on Leg 3.  I had no hopes of making that cut-off as I was already 1 hour behind my goal pace to finish in 23 hours (24 hour cut-off), but I knew there were no mountains to climb in Leg 3 so I hit the port-a-potty and headed down the road to start Leg 3.

Leg 3 was my perfect running terrain; not too technical and rolling hills but no steep climbs.  I ran the entire leg and was drinking and peeing so felt much better. The rain had stopped and the temperature seemed a bit cooler then earlier in the day.  I still had not hit any major water crossings as I thought, so my feet remained somewhat dry and no blisters appeared to be forming. When I came into the transition area from Leg 3 to Leg 4, Wouter was just leaving. His stomach was starting to feel bad but he continued on.  We felt it best if he continued without me while I refueled.  Leg 4 was the climb up Mount Hamel and I knew I would only slow Wouter down on the uphill.  I told him I’d catch him on the downhill and he was off.

The start of Leg 4 went right into a climb and didn’t stop for about 3.5 hours.  The climb was technical at times and at other times we were on a rocky road.  I passed the Hamel Assault way before the cut-off so I thought I was in good shape to finish Leg 4. Since it doesn’t get dark in Grand Cache until close to 11pm, I was on top of Hamel in the day light and it was an amazing view.  The wind picked up as I ran to the edge of the mountain to get my prayer flag and bring it back to the volunteers as proof that I made it to the edge. I stopped to put a long sleeve on, put my headlamp on and headed down the mountain.  It’s a long down hill and by the time I reached the Amber loop aid-station it was dark.  The Amber loop is basically a 5k loop that is a 1k road on an incline, 3k uphill in the forest and then 1k downhill back to the aid-station.  As I finished the loop I thought to myself, what the hell was that for?  Dr. Death surely was laughing now!  When I headed down the final 10k to the start of Leg 5 there were two ambulances waiting to depart with runners aboard.

I entered the Leg 5 transition area and heard Karl calling my name. It appeared that Wouter had picked up his pace and the guys missed him, so Martin had gone off to see if he could provide him with fluids and food at the emergency aid-station.   Karl got me everything I needed and I was off.  It was shortly after 2am when I left which meant I had just short of 6 hours to finish. Leg 5 was only 22k but for some reason I knew it wasn’t going to be an easy 22k. Sure enough a couple of hundred meters from the transition area the trail went straight up and kept going! There was no way I could do any running.  It was 9k to the ferry man where I needed to provide my coin for safe passage to the other side of the river (yes, I still had that damn coin with me!).  The forest was very dense and reminded me so much of Haliburton.  I think this section of the race is what finally did my toenail in! It took me two hours to do 9k but I made it to the boat before the cut-off so I was happy!   Only 13k more to go.   Did I mention Dr. Death has a sense of humour?  So you give your coin to the volunteer (No grim reaper, just a guy in jeans and a sweater asking for my coin… very disappointing).  I got into the small fishing boat with 5 other racers and across the river we went. We had punched out before we got in the boat and we would punch our timing stick back in when we arrived on the other side (the time in the boat would later be deducted from our overall race time).  Okay, so I mentioned Dr. Death had a sense of humour right… well the boat pulls up to shore… is there a dock?  No!  You have to jump off the boat and hope you don’t land in the river.   So I’ve been running for what close to 20 hours by now and they want me to JUMP OFF THE BOAT AND NOT LAND IN THE WATER!!!  Are they freaking kidding me!  So I make the guy hold my arm while I attempt my jump and did I make it?  Hell no!  20 hours running and now I get my feet wet!   So I ask how far to the finish.  H says 13k.  I say is it all trail?  He says it’s all up that hill… nice… Dr. Death funny guy… okay, so the total 13k wasn’t up hill but the first 2k was straight up!  I heard one girl behind me say, this doesn’t really go straight up for 2k does it and the guys says, well yeah it does… great… so we go straight up, then level out a bit, then up again where we can hear a man yelling “Go Death Racers”.  When we reach him he says only 10k to go and your done. A bit of up and down and then straight into town.  Okay, so do these people in Grand Cache know what straight into town means!!!  So I’m running up and down, up and down… you know, same as before and then I can see the lights of the town and I’m thinking they’re a long way away.  Then I start thinking to myself, have I been going around in circles for the last hour or what!!!!  Then I see a sign that says 5k and you’re done and I’m thinking that man lied to me!!!  This was way more then 10k!!  I continue on waiting for that ‘straight into town bit to come… but does it come, hell no… we hit the road for the last 3k which is a dirt (you guessed it) up and down hill road!!  Again, thoughts of the last few kilometres of Haliburton hit me and I push on.  I still have not been able to run and when I did hit a down hill my toes were so sore that running wasn’t an option.  Then ahead in the distance… am I delirious or are those houses before me?  Yes, houses!!!  I’m almost done!!  I turn onto the street and see people out cheering me on, yelling ‘Go Death Racer, Go!’ and of course, ya gotta run when everyone is watching.   So I forgot about the sore legs and sore toes and I ran up the hill (yes, that’s right another up hill) to the finish line, but do I get to go through it… hell no… Dr. Death again with his sense of humour makes us run past the finish line loop around and run up hill (is there any other way) to the finish!   I was thrilled to have finished, Karl, Martin and Wouter were waiting at the finish for me. The clock read 22:25.

After we all showered and caught a couple hours of sleep and had a decent meal we headed over to race central to check out race results.  We found out that of the 230 solo racers that registered, only 190 actually started and only 76 actually finished.  Wouter had come in 1st in his age category (60 – 69) and I had come in 4th.  I was thrilled to have finished at all.  We spent the rest of the day eating and sleeping – the awards would be handed out Monday morning.

Monday morning we went back to race central and had breakfast and watched the Death Race DVD, then the awards were being announced.  Dr. Death had all previous finishers come up on stage and then announced the top three in each age category.  We cheered Wouter on when he went up and then Dr. Death started announcing all of the other finishers and each one went up on stage and got their coin, he kept calling names but mine never came up? When he said that was it I said no way, that’s not right so I went up to him and said he didn’t call me.   He said oh we must have called you earlier and you didn’t hear.  I didn’t think so, but I took my box which contained a coin (no belt buckles) and I walked back to Karl & Martin.  Everyone was leaving the stage and I opened my box and there under my name was a time of 22:21 and 3rd place woman’s 40 – 49.   Say what!!! I went back to Dr. Death and said what’s up with this you didn’t call my name for 3rd place… he looked at his sheet and said oh sorry, I called the wrong name… congrats. I don’t think I care for Dr. Death’s sense of humour any more!

I have to say, I’ve wanted to do this race since I started running over 10 years ago and I finally did it.  The trail is tough but the weather can make it tougher.  We were lucky that we didn’t have the water crossing that most runners get each year, but then we had the heat which was very unusually for Grand Cache.  It is definitely a race to experience… at least once )

I hope you enjoyed my race report.  I feel for those that were not able to finish, but although they may not be Death Race finishers, they are all Death Racers.

Angie

[Editor's Note: The following was submitted by community member Clay Williams.]

The mandatory pre-race Pasta dinner started around 6:30, but unfortunately the cookhouse ran out of pasta early, so I ate more bread instead. There was a brief introduction by all of the participants and crew that were at the dinner, then a weigh-in after the meal. I had my ritual pre-race chocolate before going to bed. After getting under the blankets in my tent, I got a chill (kind of a whole-body shiver), so I re-wrapped, then slept very well. I had prepared EVERYTHING well in advance, including setting my alarm time, batteries in the clock, etc., but did not turn the alarm on when I went to bed. I woke to Joe’s alarm, 15 minutes past MY set time and had a moment of panic, but there was still plenty of time to get ready. I got dressed, hit the washroom, had a quick breakfast, then all of the runners gathered for the opening prayer and the start of the race. All 100 mile, 50 mile, and 50 km runners started at the same time, with a loud verbal count-down to the start. I ran with Joe for the first while, an easy run along the East road, and at a moderate pace, but a little faster than Joe’s pace. After about a mile, he told me to go ahead, he would have to back off a little. I got to aid station 3 about 10 minutes ahead of my target pace, and then after the Normac trail I got into aid station 2 at 18 minutes ahead of my target.

Taking a break at mile 90

NOTE: This race report from Jeff Genova (@oneday100miles)was originally posted as a comment to the ‘My Western States 100 Mile Death March‘ Monumental Effort story. But we felt it was so great, it warranted it’s own place as a Monumental Effort unto itself:

Jeff say, “And yes I am going back to finish what I started last year!”

My race report from the 2009 Western States Endurance Run.

I have been waiting to do this race for 4 years. The first year I applied for the lottery like most I did not make it in to the race. So the next year I applied for the lottery and was lucky enough to be selected but once the race day arrived so had the smoke and fires. The race had to be cancelled due to safety concerns. But finally this year was the year. I had done all of the training built my speed, lost some weight, cross trained, heat trained did everything I thought to get ready for the big race. I was ready travel was scheduled and I was ready to run.

The race is a wonderfully orchestrated event with tremendous volunteers like no other. I found this out first hand. The registration was well run and very efficient. I quickly made it through the process and the pre-race briefing was informative and held to one hour as promised.

The race morning start was full of tension and anxiety for myself as well as the other racers. Then at the stroke of 5 with a blast from the shotgun we where off up the slope in to the darkness. As I ran up the slope I passed friends new and old Chrissy Ferguson, Jean Pommier, Xy Weiss even the man Gordie. Half way up the slope there is Andy and Catra cheering us on. Wow I thought they must have gotten up early to get way up here this early. Finally I make it to the top and the Escarpment aid station, wait that is not the top the is a hand over fist vertical climb and a short run to the top. Then is is down to Lyon Ridge along some beautiful single track trails. All along the way I am thinking about how I am going to describe these hills to everyone back home in Arkansas. We just don’t have anything this long anywhere we have the steep inclines and declines but not the length.

I arrive in to the Lyon Ridge aid station feeling good but wishing that I had worn my Cascadias since the start and not the Inov-8s that I had on. After a refill of the bottles I am off through a rolling section to Red Star Ridge aid station where my first drop bag is located. Along this section I get to talk to one of the HURT runners she is very lovely and I realize that I like running with people way more than the solo thing. So I decide to try to find someone to talk to during each section until I get to Foresthill and my pacer Tom.

My long toes are already sore from the down hills so I walk the last downhill section into the Red Star aid station. I hear the guy on the PA say walk the down hills that is what I teach all of my protege runners. Ha Ha I laugh but don’t tell them the real reason for the walk. I restock my fuels in my belt and filled the bottles then off to the next aid station. Down, Down, Down into the Duncan Canyon wide open to the sun and step down hills again. I am beginning to wonder if me toes are going to hold out for the next 70 some miles… Then it is up to Robinson Flat and the first time that I get to see my crew(my wife and youngest daughter) who have pushed me to the finish of all of my other 100 mile attempts. But before I get to see them I have to climb out of this crazy steep canyon. Little do I know it is only the start of even steeper and longer canyons. Once I get close to the top of the climb there is a runner on the ground with medical and aid station volunteers assisting him. The heat and the climb had taken its toll on many along the way. Then I emerge out of the woods to see medical check, my weight is right on .5 lb under. Then I see my crew happy to fill my every need except the one to stop. My feet are killing me. I tell them I need my other shoes and that it is crazy hot out there. They get my shoes and help me cool down with some ice and sponges. I want to just stay with them but they tell me that I have bothered them about that damn buckle for three years get up and get back out there.

The next 15 miles to the top of the canyon is a big blur of rolling trail and aid stations filled with runners in the medical tents feet destroyed and glazed looks from the sun sucking the life out of them. Then at the top of the Devils Thumb canyon I think wow this is going to hurt and it is steep! I found that the biggest thing that I will need to work on for future mountain races is how to protect that damn long second toe on the down hills. I finally make it to the bottom and
then it is the big big climb to the top. The climbs I can do well they don’t hurt my toes very much and I can pick up some of the time lost from the down hills.

Then out of that crazy climb to another mash unit aid station. I try to spend as little time as possible in these aid stations for fear of being sucked into them.
Another canyon and I make it to Michigan Bluff and my crew again. They lift my spirits when I see them and then they tell me I need to pick up the pace I am getting close to some of the cut offs. “This is not what I had planned for, I was supposed to be faster than this” I tell myself. It is a moral blow but the crew gives me the spare headlight that I put in for Michigan Bluff as a worst case scenario that I would be that late I might need it. Leaving Michigan Bluff I pick up the pace and start talking to a runner from Illinois who tells me that he would be surprised if he made the 30 hour cut off at this pace. “Holy Crap what is going on how am I
racing the absolute cut offs” I think to myself. I have to pick up the pace I am almost to Tom, my pacer, he can help me pick up some time. I do pick up pace through the volcano canyon and up to Bath road where in the dark I can not see the small sign and do not know which way to turn at the street left or right how am I losing
more time CRAP! Finally after a minute a runner comes up and shows me the way. Then about a 1/4 mile down the road I meet up with Tom. What a lift he gives me a red bull shot which my team has sent to me as a pick up. It tastes good but does not’t last long, I throw it back up. This is the start of the downfall, from this point on I cannot keep anything down except plain water the rest of the night. We make it in to Foresthill school the crew is there and ready to please. They give me some fruit (which I do keep down) and my good headlight. Tom gets the bottles filled and with the some words of encouragement from the running store at home “Finish no matter what!”(I guess that puts no stress on me but it does become my mantra when the low points come) Tom and I are off to Cal street into the night.

Once we make it on to the trail I tell Tom have to pee and when I get back he is laughing. He tells me that there is a baggie of urine on the trail. I tell him that they are everywhere some kind of study. He still thinks it is funny. The next 8 miles to Peachstone went by fairly quickly it was dark and hilly my feet started to
hurt more and the vomiting started to pick up. Once at Peachstone I let the podiatrist look at my feet and there where blisters coming out from under the first two toe nails on each foot. He said that he could lance the blisters and give me instant relief. I told him “what are you waiting for do it!” The lancing helped as far as
instant relief but it was not a long term fix. From then on when we left an aid station I had to walk almost a quarter mile so that I could get used to the pain in my feet and could run again.

We started to pick up some time on the clock though the night from here to the Rucky Chucky crossing. I told Tom that if we had time once we got across the river I would like for a podiatrist to look at my feet again. He said we had gained some time and that we could. We made it to Rucky Chucky with 45 minutes of time between us and the cut-off. I got on to the scale and my weight was .5lb under. After all of the puking and running I was amazed that I had kept my weight up.

We went down to the water and as soon as I put my feet in the water they where on fire I knew they where bad but not this bad. Once out of the water I found a chair and podiatrist who basically wiped of my feet and put a small bandage on my right foot and said that is all I can do. I felt this was a bad decision and a great loss of time for us. We left the aid station and ran up the hill to the Green Gate aid station and sunrise. Tom and I both thought that the sun might give me a second wind. I hoped it would too. We where supposed to meet the crew here with dry socks but they did not make it down the hill in time to meet us. So off to the next aid station with the sun rising we pick up the pace a little once I get past the sore feet from the stop.

When we get to Auburn Lakes Trails aid station I have lost 5 lbs and the medical team makes me sit and drink (and hold it down) until I gain some of the weight back. Well by the time I do this it is 6:55 and the absolute cut off is 7:00. Five minutes ahead of the cut off we need to pick up speed. Just before we make it to the Hwy 49 crossing I hear the PA announce 14 minutes to cut-off. We picked up a couple of minutes and I have kept my weight up, it is back to .5lb down. They let us through the aid station with no delay and there is my crew screaming at me to go go go. They know I can do it.

Tom and I push up the big hill out of the aid station and the sun starts beating down on us now. We make it to No Hands bridge with 25 minutes ahead of the 30 hour limit. Tom fills our bottles and I have to walk across the bridge to get past the pain in my feet to start running again. Just after the end of the bridge we are passed by Tim Twietmeyer and another runner going the other way. They gives words of encouragement and head on. Tom says if that does not’t get you moving nothing will. It did and we picked up the pace a little but by this time the sun was really baking me good. I could feel the wafts of heat sucking the life out of me. We made it to the top of the hill so we thought at Robbie Point. Tim was there offering water to drink or he would pour it on you, I said over the top please. Tim said”You have made it, it is in the books.” I wish. The road from this point has orange feet on it leading to the finish line at the track. But it seemed like the road was all up hill to the track I was getting hot. I could see a group of runners ahead of us and they just kept going and going. I told Tom I thought we only had a mile to go he said less than that and we where done.

From this point I don’t remember much but Tom tells me that I told him I had to sit down and I did on a curb next to a driveway about 3/4 mile from the finish line. That driveway is where my race and a three year dream ended. I remember Tom trying to get me to stay awake and talk to him. I remember trying to get up but I couldn’t make my muscles work. I felt as though I had not bones in my body. I finally told Tom I just wanted to go to sleep and he wouldn’t let me. Tom tells me that Tim Twietmeyer who had been running with us took off for the medical tent at the finish line when I collapsed and sent back a truck to get me. My wife tells me that Tim when he ran past them near the finish he yelled at them that there runner was in trouble. This upset her and my daughter started to run back to see what was the matter with her Dad but my wife stopped her for fear of the worst. The medical personnel arrived and loaded me in the truck. They drove me to the finish line and then carried me across the finish line and I remember hearing my chip going off as I crossed it. Once in the medical tent Randy the medical person who I remember took vitals and started packing me in ice. Then a female nurse hooked up an IV to me and then another.

I remember seeing my daughter crying and telling her “don’t cry baby it will be okay.” She said she new it would be okay but she could help being scared and sad. After a couple of hours but the medical staff finally let me go back to the hotel to get a shower and rest. I felt a lot better after that. Since our flight was out of SFO early in the morning I made my wife drive us to the hotel near the airport. She tells me this because I do not remember the 4 hour drive back to Auburn to get my drop bags and then to San Fran. All I remember is throwing up non stop into a bag for the first 30 min. I guess I threw up the whole way and my daughter fed me ice chips to try to keep me hydrated she tells me. Once we get to San Francisco the bellman wheeled me to our room in a wheel chair and I went to sleep. I the morning we returned the car and flew home to Arkansas I don’t remember much of these travels either. According to my wife I started turning a yellow color and looked really bad so she tricked me into going to the hospital straight from the airport. She said I needed to get some real wound care for my feet. I am glad she did. Once in the ER the Dr. read me the riot act about my “100 mile run to your death” race that I did. He was mad that he had to deal with me and let me sit for over 2 hours in a room with no orders. Finally the nurse got mad at him and he ordered some lab work which came back “BAD” according to him. I was turned over to an internist and a nephroligist. They told me my labs showed Acute Tubular Necrosis with kidney function of 20% and a CPK count of 26,000 and it should be 150. They sent me to the ICU and over the next 4 days ran 13 bags of IV fluid through me. I am getting better now and according to the Doctors I will recover fully. I want to thank again everyone who helped me through this ordeal. I want to thank all of the people who wished me well and had me in there thoughts the past couple of weeks. Also I want to apologize to all of those that I may have let down or scared these past weeks. I am going to take a couple of weeks off and then start back running slowly, I already miss the running. Just remember when you are out there running be careful we think we are invincibly but I found out at least I am not.

Our first submitted story, and what a story!  Check out Gary Robbin’s 2009 Western States Race Report.  If failing kidneys are something you’re familiar with, you’ve got to read this:

Hey Vince, great idea on here! Made me reflect upon WS this year. It was the closest I’ve ever coming to quitting on myself but I managed to rise above in the end, even though it consisted of an 8hr 32km walk to the finish line!
If it meets your content, here’s the link:
http://garyrobbins.blogspot.com/2009/07/long-overdue-western-states-report.html

Thanks guys! See you at Miwok again??
GR

Thanks Gary!  Bill won’t be at Miwok, but he’s trying to sucker Vince into it!

Cheers,

Vince and Bill