DNR

On the back side of hope pass it started to sprinkle. I held my up hands tempting God to settle the tab. I was ready for a bolt of lightning to end my day… My life? Seth, being the smarter of us, told me to put my hands down.

Last week I took my Grandpa to the hospital. Among the many things that are ailing him, the most condemning is old age. He is completely deaf in one ear and can barely hear out of the other. He was hardly able to stand long enough to put on a gown. Despite this, he rarely passed up the opportunity to tell a corny joke, or hit on the nurses. He was not a stranger here and he knew the drill like he had trained for it. His translucent hands revealed the fragile veins that could hardly support the I.V. On his wrist was one of many plastic bracelets that held his arms down as if he was shackled to the $35,000 bed.

D.N.R. Is what it said in bold certain letters.

“What does that mean?” he questioned.

“Do not resuscitate” Nobody really wanted to remind him, but it had to be done.

I could see in his face, it was something he had thought about many times. “What do you think about that?” he asked.

I don’t know… It’s SHIT! What kind of quitter load of bullshit are they trying to preach here?! You don’t just give up. Cobra Kai NEVER DIE! You know from karate kid! Come on that’s old school elementary stuff. He should know that!

I said nothing and tried to figure out the right thing to say. Even less came out of my mouth.

I don’t know what this has to do with running, and I’m sure this won’t give you a pr on your next race. But I can’t seem to run far enough to make this look small. If it is going to make sense it’ll be between mile one, and a million. There I can no longer cry, cause I need to breath, and the pain in my legs balance out the pain narcotics can’t hide.

Maybe he just needs a pacer like Seth to tell him to put his hands down, and stop being stupid. What if he has had pacers? And this is his finish line…

Maybe the easy/cliché is to say, “Never give up”.  You can find many bumper stickers to remind you. Perhaps the true strength is to know when to say, “This is my finish line!”

I don’t care where my finish line is, but I hope I know for certain when I pass it. If I happen to get to mile a million and one, and I get my own DNR bracelet, I want to know that I savored every mile.  I am so grateful of all my loving friends and family who have “paced and crewed” me.  I know there will be time at the finish line to reminisce with all those who have beaten me there.

I shook my Grandpa’s hand, “I’ll see you tomorrow”

“Not if they ‘Do Not Resuscitate” he said with a toothless grin. 

-Jeremy

Good Times

Here are some pics from our adventures this season! Hope you all enjoy. Happy Thanksgiving, and Happy Trails. I'm out.

-Seth

 Bob, Seth, Amie, Jeremy and Ryan. Antelope 100K 2012

 Seth and Amelia. Bear mile 30 ish. Feeling like a champ....

(Photo: Lori Burlison)

Seth @ Bear mile 20 

(Photo: Lori Burlison)

 Jeremy, Seth and Amelia. White Pine Fall 2012

 Bob and Seth. Rusty Spur Bighorn 100

 Bob and Seth Bear 100. Mile 52 Tony Grove

 Johnny Runners @ Squaw Peak 50

Ian, Brett, Seth, John and Carol Maack.

 Amie, Tiffany, Seth. Johnny Runner 25K

 Jeremy and Bob. Kings Peak Trip, @ Dollar Lake.

 Jeremy and Ryan @ Leadville 100.

 Seth and Amie, Squaw Peak overlook, Fall 2012.

 Jeremy atop Clayton Peak, Brighton Marathon, Summer 2012.

 Allen Brothers Cabin. Lone Peak Wilderness. Fall 2012

 Lone Peak Summit, Fall 2012

 Bob and Amielia, headed into the Cirque on Lone Peak. Fall 2012

 Lone Tree, Lone Peak. Fall 2012

 Bob and Amielia atop Jacobs Ladder, Fall 2012

 Bobbo, Jeremy and Amie. Dry Canyon, Fall 2012

 Jeremy and Co. Lone Peak, Fall 2012.

 Jeremy @ Lake Catherine, Summer 2012

 The crew and Ernie @ Bighorn 100 Finish

 Group run with Johnny Runner! 

Amie in Albion Basin. Summer 2012

Bighorn 100

On June 14th, 2012, we all loaded up and headed to Sheridan for the Bighorn 100! And what an adventure it was! The drive from SLC to Casper was rather....well really bland, and extremely windy. Once we left Casper, the scenery just got better! Sheridan is a pretty cool town. 54 times more cool than Leadville.
Bob and I had signed up for the Hundo, and Amelia had thrown in last minute for the 50, she had $$$ on her mind!
We rolled into town, Downtown Sheridan on a Thursday afternoon is crazy..... We checked in to the Super 8, and headed to the local running store to drop-bags and pick up the swag! Honestly, the swag bags are loaded, shirt (never to be worn in public), hat (never to be worn in public), socks (I wear to church), pretty handy first-aid kit, free pizza dinner, ticket to the finish bbq, awards breakfast, and lots more!!!

The Swag!

All right, enough chit chat, lets get to the main course. The Hundo starts on a gravel road 3.5 miles up the Tongue River road, just outside of Dayton, WY. From the start, we ran 1.5 or so miles up the gravel road, to an intersection, and the climbing began, and stayed constant until mile 8. This for me was a great way to start the race, nice long climb! From mile 8-8.5 to Dry Fork is all pretty runnable, nice rolling terrain. From Dry Fork to Foot Bridge is similar, a few small climbs, and a killer single track! A perfect place for me to drop the hammer, and BONK.... Mile 23, I had to "Take 5", and find my bearings! The descent from Bear Camp 26.5 to Foot Bridge 30, is a "Quad Killer", nice and steep! I was lucky and got an afternoon shower for these 4-5 miles! 

When I got into Footbridge, the temp dropped and I was in a better place! I grabbed arm warmers and a Turkey Wrap and headed out.

From Foot Bridge 30 to Devils Canyon Rd 47 is another very long, consistent climb. The majority of the climb was runnable, if you are running a marathon! This is a 100 miler, and the race hasn't even started yet! I power hiked most of the hills. I climbed this section with Brett Gosney, a Hardrocker from Durango. Once again, on this section I BONKED, the gels weren't cutting it! Luckily, the aid stations on the way up had great solid food, my favorite being the turkey wraps. The volunteers had it down, and had us in and out! Now the fun part..... MUD & SNOW... Mile 45-47, pure mud and snow, and not a damn thing you can do about it! I tried to work around it, but gave up. 

Brett Gosney and I, mile 45 ish.

From Devils Canyon Rd 47-Porcupine Ranger Station 48 is a nice very muddy 1/2 single track, 1/2 4x4 road. The Ranger Station was a sight for sore eyes!! My pacer, Jeremy was there, ready to run my ass into the WY ground! This aid was great, they had quesadilla's, and broth, just what Seffy needed to UN-BONK! I didn't waste my time changing socks/shoes. It was just turning dark when I left the aid, my split was 10:30. 

The descent back down to Foot Bridge was awesome, I felt great, and it was nice to run with Jeremy, and tell War Stories! 

About a mile out from Footbridge, you are running level with the Little Bighorn River, and it was freezing. Down in the gorge, it seriously dropped 25 degrees.... Not good 66 miles in.

From Foot Bridge to Bear Camp, there is a hellacious climb they call "The Wall", and it is a SOB. It lives up to its name. This one hurt! The damn glow sticks hanging from the trees seem like they are moving away from you the whole time your climbing! Pretty strenuous climbing for about 4 miles. 

Bear Camp to Dry Fork was SLOW, well, it felt that way. The "Wall" and the 70 miles had taken their toll on me, and I was looking for any reason I could find to walk, or stop and take a break! This was unacceptable to Jeremy, and he made me keep moving. 

When the Dry Fork aid came into view, I was walking down the flat road, and had been passed by a few runners, and was not feeling so hot. Jeremy turned to me and told me to run, I ignored him, he then told me I had 5 minutes at the aid to get my shit together! He also informed me that if I had any regrets about how I ran my race, I had to run the Deseret News Marathon 2 weeks later...... DAMMIT. WHY. 

At Dry Fork mile 82.5 I pounded and Ensure, took 4 Ibuprofen, and a salt pill, put a sandwich in my hand and started walking.... This lasted until Jeremy got out of the bathroom, when he caught up to me, he told me to run 50 steps........ WHY...Walking feels so good. RUN. NOW. And Run I Seth did, that bastard made me run all the damn way to Upper Sheep Cyn. 87.5, we walked up the hill and got out on the ridge. 12 miles to go, 7 miles of downhill, really rugged downhill! OUCH. 

The last 5 miles of the race are all flat, and on the gravel road you run in the beginning.... Ya, Jeremy and a flat road, 95 miles in, KILL ME NOW. Somehow, he got me to run that last 5 miles, and we ran as hard as I could. When I crossed the line, I was toast. It was a great journey. 

We all did quite well, Bob was 4th 20:48. I somehow was 23:06 and 10th. Amie, she was the only runner who never got her feet wet, and well, she can tell you how she made out! She walked with a Rock and a C-note! 

Amie, Seth, Bob at the finish.

In conclusion I give the Bighorn 100 9/10. It's an out and back, and that is about the only problem that I have with it. This race is great! Probably the best Post-Race I have been to, the BBQ was killer! Upon finishing, they gave my me a finishers blanket, and at the awards a nice Asics Jacket! 

Ok, as far as difficulty... It's 100 miles, in remote, rugged, wet and rough country. Is it as hard as Wasatch and Bear..... Yes. Wasatch is harder, but different. Bear is similar in some ways. Bighorn is no walk in the park. Go test it out! 

Enough rambling. I'm out.

-Sethro

2012

2012

Wow!! What a year it's been, full of pain and suffering, lots of miles, and lots of whining. I have had a blast this running season, and look forward to many more!!! 

I learned a lot about myself this season. I also found out how great my friends are, especially my running/training partners: Jeremy, Amie, and Bob. I cannot say enough good about these peeps! I am lucky, very lucky, that I have the opportunity to run with my peeps! At the end of the day, Mountain Running, to me is all about the experience, and the people I share it with. Sure, running hard and competing are great, but in the end it is all about fun! 

Amie, Bob, Jeremy Antelope Island

Bob and Amie- Big Baldy Summit

Jeremy and Amie @ Lake to Lake

Amie in Zion

Bob @ Antelope 100

 Bob and I @ Bighorn 100 start

 Amie, Seth, Bob- Post Bighorn

Bob, Amie, Seth- Lone Peak Summit 

2012, it's been real. 

2013 is going to be sickening. 

Happy trails. 

-Seth

That OTHER Really Big Hole

I ran the Grand Canyon a couple years ago. It really changed a lot of things in me. I wrote down what I could because at my old age I would hate to forget such a great adventure.   

  We started on the North Rim at about 4:00pm. Amie, Andrea and Craig dropped of Kent and me. They drove to the South Rim to meet up with us later. We met a guy named Lee. I’m really bad with names but, thanks to a song by Tenacious D, I remembered Lee.  He took our picture and off we went. The plan was to go easy on our 1st pass. We were shooting for about 8 hrs.

   It was raining and cold. I was anxious to get moving. The water and mule piss collected into mini ponds, mixed with mud, and caked to our feet. It was still light and we were hoping we could make it to phantom ranch before we had to get out the lights. We didn't.
     It rained off and on the whole way to Phantom Ranch. I tried to treat it like a power hike. We were way ahead of schedule by the time we came into the ranch.
    We sat outside by the water and talked with some guys who were waiting for the bar to open. I can't remember the exact time, the guys names, or if there was really a bar. But I remember doing the math and I started to realize what we had bitten off.
   We took the South Kaibab trail up the south rim that night. The wind was picking up and pushing the clouds away to reveal a full moon. In the distance I could see giant illuminated rock formations.  They completely defied the persuasion of the storm.  I started to think of my family and the warm beds they were sleeping in. I felt very selfish and alone.
   We traversed across a spine in-between two giant boulders. The wind was so powerful I could hear nothing over the sound of my jacket trying to fly away. I was insignificant. I was at nature's mercy, although I was granted permission to take this trail, at any point she could change her mind and sweep me over the edge. We made it to the top in 6 1/2 hours much faster than planned.
    I was hoping to meet the rest of our party with a warm reception. It was not quite the case. It was way too cold and we had interrupted their attempt at sleep. The good part was they got us some spaghetti. The bad part was they didn't get any sleep. I was freezing and I wanted to get moving before I got tired. I had eaten my fill, changed my clothes and was ready to start a new adventure.
    Two miles down from the top of the rim the wind was still howling insults in my face.  The moon was bright enough that headlamps were optional and only used by half of us. Kent was having problems with plantar fasciitis and decided to turn back before he got too far in. This worried me a little. Kent had the most knowledge of the trail. This was the first time for everyone except me. He was going to take the van to the top of the Bright Angel. This would give us the opportunity to see both trails on the south end. From there the conversation was minimal. I think I was in sleep mode and the rest of the crew followed.
    Out of the corner of my eye I saw what appeared to be a guy in a white t shirt standing on the side of the trail. I looked up and before my light could expose him, he bolted off the edge." Holy shit! Did you guys see that!?"
   They naturally figured I was hallucinating. As we moved closer I could see something just off limits of my headlamp. Luckily Craig had a brighter light and revealed a mountain goat. Even now Amie questions whether it was there. I could instinctively sense his presence… cause I'm part goat.
    We made our way down through the tunnel, and over the bridge. We were welcomed back into phantom ranch by a heard of deer. I don't know what time it was, but we were the only ones awake. We ate, filled our water, used the bathrooms, and headed out.
    Moving toward the north rim, our pace digressed to a glorified mall walk. Every now and then I'd yell out "puddle" or "water" to alert everyone else. When I got bored I would say nothing, and listen to Amie step in the Grand Canyon cocktail of mud and stench.
    We hit the ranger station and started the final climb up the north rim. It began to rain. The fog was setting in like a trailer park queen, rolling on her baby ( Nicole told me to change that part, I will when I think of something else... Nope didn't).  All I could see was the very next step I was taking. Even though there were few places to stray, my mind still wondered. I stayed focused by worrying about getting lost.
    Sunrise was expected at any minute, but it seemed to get darker. Not a lot was said at this point. We came across a few runners going the other way. I wanted to ask "How far to the top?" but I had a good idea and I didn't want to be certain.
    Not much after we could see silhouettes of trees. And like a switch that turned on hope, the sun decided to come up.  We could hear the diesel engines of busses dropping off tourists. Before too long people were coming down. The smell of deodorant became more potent the closer we got to the rim.
    We reached the top, and grabbed our drop bags. Lee was there at the time we predicted we'd be back. It felt like I never left. I drank some chicken noodle soup and coke, shoved some chips in my face and I was ready to go. Of course we had to pose for pictures.
   We headed back down the north rim. For me this was the second time. But this time I wasn't concerned with the journey ahead.  I was sad it was almost over. This was my last descent. I started to pick it up. Shortly we were passing some of the day hikers that we saw on our way up. Before too long we were flying by them. Dancing over and around rocks with ease, I felt invincible. We got to the ranger station and I waited for the rest of the crew. The water spigot was overcrowded with people. We didn't stop.
    The next section back to phantom ranch was enjoyable. We were able to run at a comfortable pace. The trail was crowded, but I didn't mind weaving in and out of traffic.
   This time phantom ranch was a busy place. It was fun to hear the stories of other hikers, and see the excitement for the adventures to come.  For a moment I tried to feel like one of them.  Then I realized I look and smell like a gimp legged hobo. With a grimy smile on my face and an indescribable stench we headed up Bright Angel trail.
   It was our last push up and out. The sun was intense and the cliff walls intimidated me. It felt like distance no longer existed. Miles were only numbers and numbers were irrelevant. Every step was savored and then forgotten when the next was taken. I would go indefinitely.  
    I reached the top. There were two ladies staring into the open void. They asked where the trail started. I told them of my adventure and how I came to stand in front of them. "Your still standing?!" one said. Yup and I already missed the comfort of the desert.  Then like a forgotten debt that went to collections, reality came back...
    I hold on to the splits and finish times like a washed up football player; hoping they would carry with them the joy and enlightenment of the actual experience.  They don’t.

-Jeremy

Tahoe 72

   I ran the Lake Tahoe 72 mile road race about a month ago. I still debate on if this was a good call. But being the cheap ass I am, I wasn't about to lose the registration fee.
   My usual partners in crime were off killing it at Bear 100. I was meeting a friend, Scott, who was also going to run it. I had my brother in-law Charles crew and I suckered my other brother Jordan into pacing.
   The adventure began at 10pm. and I wish I could say everything started off great, but I can't. Running through So. Lake Tahoe was OK. I was a little envious of all the rich drunks, and how they eventually got to pass out from an alcohol induced coma in some overpriced hotel. But no that's not the life for me! I was going to run... all night...on road... and I paid money for it. Hell ya!
   Once out of town we climbed up, what I was told, to be an 8 mile hill. It felt like 30. On the way up I was having problems with my IT band. The problem being that it hurt like a bitch. This was a new pain for me and I was certain that this was the most intense pain that has ever been experienced in the history of pain. By mile 20 I was ready to drop. Jordan got out to run with us a few miles. I was glad he did, cause I wanted him to get some miles in. He said he was proud of me even though I was going to drop.  I started to list off all the races I'd done this year. Complaining about my leg. I was also sick that week. And then it hit me... WTF You're just making up excuses. Stop being a whiny bitch. Who cares what happened yesterday. This is today and this day I am running. Sure it hurt and I had reasons to stop, but how many people never get to feel this?
   If I was going to legitimately drop, something must break.  I had to  justify all whining that spewed from my face. So I ran... hard. I ran like I was winning a 5k. Unfortunately nothing broke. Fortunately, either the pain diminished, or I got desensitized. Both were acceptable.  I don't recommend this strategy. I just needed a cool bruise or scar to show off.
   The last 50 miles or so were incredible. The full moon was so bright headlamps were only need to alert drunk drivers. It was beautiful. I owned the road and ran down the middle as such. I was relaxed and my pace increased. Charles had crewing down like a professional. My stops at the car were quick and seamless. Jordan would alternate pacing me and Scott. I loved it.
   I passed the 50 mile mark. At this point I might as well finish this sucker out. Plus all my family was at the finish. And my crew and friends had worked so hard to get me this far... might as well. Now I had the right excuses. I ran the last 6 miles with Jordan. Charles raced back and forth in the car crewing Scott and I. I finished, kissed my wife, hugged my kids and family. Then I puked mad amounts of Coke and Gu out of my nose.
   I would like to brag to you about my split times, placement, and mostly my rock hard six pack abs. But it wasn't about stupid shit like that. It was about doing what I was made to do, with the people I love.

-Jeremy

Leadville 100 retrospect

2 miles till the finish: “Fuck this shit! I am never running this again, worst idea ever.”

2 weeks after the race: “I’m going to sign up for Leadville again, I could run it faster and it was actually a cool race.”
Now, two months after the race, maybe I can give an unbiased account of what transpired and what I thought of the Leadville 100.  First off, the start was way way way way too early.  I’m so neurotic of course I arrived at the start at least an hour and a half early.  Funny as it may seem this hour and a half was entirely devoted to and hoping for, that pregame bowel movement.  While I waited Jeremy and I took refuge from the cold in a granola/hipster sticky paper bug catcher (coffee shop).  I gazed on admiring all those that can imbibe of such a diuretic right before the race with sheer envy.  If I did that I can only imagine, it goes like this: waves of black liquid rushing gushing taking the role of Moses parting my…sorry, you get the idea.  Oh, if I had only known how much fun that undercooked calzone would be…  The start of the race itself is like something from a reality TV show or the movie Running Man whichever you prefer.  Flying cameras, loud speakers, blaring music, and loads of people chaotically set the seen of the carnage to come.   I tried to think positive but, my stomach was in an awful place, it had been all week.  I hadn’t even started running and I was already worried about shitting my pants.  For mile 80 something that’s an ok feeling, but now at the start, I should have been worried; too many distracting shiny things.  By the time I got to half pipe for the first time, my stomach was done; nothing was staying in.  I Pez dispensed a handful of Imodium, and enjoyed the company of Liza Howard.  “Check out this cool view.  Look at that deer…”  She was enjoying a nice day, I was trying not to crop dust her.  I will admit the scenery was pretty decent, but not super conducive for hiding a squatting runner in the throes of food poisoning.  At the 50 mile turn around Diana Finkel weighed me and checked the vitals.  There’s a person who first hand knows what shit hitting the fan looks like, and the way she looked confirmed mine had.  The second climb to hope pass was something special.  “Hey man, looking good keep up the good work!”  Looking good?  I’ve seen road kill that looked better than I did.  The silver lining to the climb up was the profound realization that pineapple GU tastes better on the way back up than going down.  To be honest, nothing much but more suffering followed.  The best part of the race was being able to finish the last ten miles in good company with good friends.
Over-all the race was filled with people that did not belong there (undertrained people who had read born to run and figured that made them an ultra-runner).  The race was consumerism to the max (it’s run by a business).  It was the most disrespect for nature I’ve seen at any run (garbage everywhere).  Of all the awesome mountains/terrain around you, you get to experience lots of road and practically none of it.  The aid stations are crazy well stocked with everything and anything you could expect with maybe the exception of beer.  Large groups of cheering spectators.  The buckle is outrageously big.  I would go back, but for no other reason than I think I could run it much faster, more in the range of 19-20 hours.  Did altitude affect me?  A week before I was running in the Wind Rivers so, no, I felt acclimated.  I switched out packs at the 50 mile mark carrying 50 miles worth of GU at a time (only pineapple roctane).  I ate at least 100 calories every 30 minutes.  I had two drop bags with Ensure and Pedialite, one at 50 the other at 25/75 where I had my light as well.  I ran in shorts and a t-shirt the entire race with ear warmers, sleaves, and gloves at the start and during the night, that was pretty much enough.  I ran in one pair of brooks pure grit shoes for the entire race, ya my feet and knees felt it by the end.  In hind sight I would have worn shoes with more cushion.
-Bob