The Bear has sunk in its claws. I suppose I need to answer a common question I've received: "So you couldn't find a nice, flat 100-miler for your first?" I've had guarded interest in racing longer than 50 miles, and had never experienced a run longer than nine hours. Descriptions of this epic course with its beautiful fall colors which I heard from Errol "Rocket" Jones and others, along with an urge for a new challenge, sucked me in. The Bear is remote and rugged, is the only race to start in one state (Utah) and finish in another (Idaho), and has a very intimidating elevation profile with 22,000 feet of climbing over 11 successive mountain passes.
I knew well to expect something totally unlike the 50 milers which are still relatively new to me. Many experienced ultrarunner friends of mine offered great advice and knew that it would be inevitable I would attempt to carry over the speed I have in shorter distances. "This is not a race of the fittest, but a race of adapting the best to the conditions" someone would tell me.
The biggest preoccupation leading up to the race was determining what to bring - what items I'd need in drop bags, logistics of where and when I'd need them, and how to fit all that crap in to two small carry-on bags. In retrospect, it was better to worry about these things than to focus too much on the horror stories of the Mile 70 breakdowns of runners more talented than me.
My initial plan for a race pace was to settle in to a comfortable heart rate of 155 (out of 206 for this hummingbird heart of mine). As fate would have it, the first ten or so runners would hit the initial 3300 ft monster climb faster than expected. Damned if I would let the mountain goat with hiking poles in front of me disappear up the mountain. So I gave it a little bit of gas and passed through the mile 20 aid station in first place with eventual winner Nick Pedatella hot on my heels. Nick, from Boulder, Colorado, is a super talent and was four weeks earlier one of the top finishers in the grueling Ultra Trail du Mont Blanc race in the French Alps. Nick is a space physicist and looks more that part than the beast of an endurance athlete that he is.
As in any ultramarathon distance, you eventually settle in to your all day pace. It may have taken me a little too long to get there, but I was thankfully joined at mile 40 by Ben Lewis, another 100 mile rookie, but very solid competitor at shorter distances. Nick was gone, but Ben and I became inseparable partners, sharing 2nd place for the next 43 miles. We settled in to a comfortable effort and the time passed quickly, a lot of it with frequent reports from me on our current altitude, number of miles to the next aid station, predicted pace, etc. Ben is a resident medical doctor in psychiatry, but politely made no attempts at analyzing any psychosis I might have.
The Bear has only recently exploded in popularity and still retains its low-key atmosphere. The organization is first-rate, but the one old-school element which I would like to see evolve is the course marking. Fortunately, I had rounded up enough Garmin gps wrist watches to last the whole race and loaded the course map on to each. This saved me on more than one occasion where flagging was missing or difficult to locate. The majority of finishers found their way, but many made wrong turns, and some were too far astray to finish within the 36 hour limit.
Mile 70 came and progress to that point was terrific. The sun was just about to set and a sub-20 hour finish was a yawning 6-1/2 hours away - no worries. After all, how long could it possibly take to run, or just jog and hike, 30 miles? My good friend Mike Topper, a successful veteran of many ultramarathon races, came out to crew for me and pace from Mile 76. Mike's company for the last 24 miles proved to be invaluable. I had been carefully eating and drinking all day and consumed all the special snacks I had sent ahead. The sun went down, and soon thereafter the fire in my engine room was flickering. The key to a good split time for the end of a 100 mile race seems to be the ability to run the runnable sections of trail and to spend a minimal amount of time at the last 4 to 5 aid stations. This is baffingly easier in concept than practice. At first, complacency took over. Then fatigue crept in to my legs to the point where inflammation prevented me from running down hill at all. Then adrenaline masked the need for caffeine which ultimately led to a very slow and somewhat scary shuffle for over a mile to the Mile 92 aid station. Somehow things turn around after these rough patches and it took some long stops at aid stations to be revived.
Fortunately, my feet were in good shape, my digestion was working well, and the clear night sky was incredible. Unfortunately, there was a maddeningly steep and rough, 7 mile descent from mile 93 to the finish. The ibuprofen I took was no match for the soreness in my right leg, so it was a very long walk off the mountain. The city lights of Fish Haven Idaho, population 201, were over 3000 feet below and drew closer at an alarmingly slow rate. I had parted ways with Ben at mile 83, and from mile 91 on, I watched one runner after another sail by. Miraculously, I slipped only to 7th place, having taken just under 5 hours to cover the last 15 miles with a finish time of 22:46. The last runner to pass me by was Nikki Kimball. Getting beat by a champion of her stature is okay by me.
Ben Lewis unknowingly took the lead at mile 85 when Nick Pedatella went off course for a solid hour! Nick put his UTMB legs to good use by retaking the lead at mile 92 and flew to the finish, while Ben finished with a comfortable cushion for second place.
Along with 18 others, my sub-24 hour time earned the coveted wolverine belt buckle. The wolverine is a powerful predator in the weasel family, but looks like a bear - something else I've learned from running 100 miles.
The memories will last for a long time. The spirit of community amongst the participants, volunteers, and crews is truly unique and will inevitably draw me back to this distance again.
Equipment used:
Inov-8 X-Talon 212 (8 oz) shoes
Go-Lite double bottle waist pack
Fenix LD20 handheld light and Petzl headlamp for backup
Garmin Forerunner 305
Honey Stinger gels and waffles
Nuun electrolyte
Good old cheese sandwiches and salty V-8 juice
The Maxx is a unique point to point night time enduro. It starts at dusk at Beachy Head and ends 80 miles later at QE Park, near Petersfeld. It’s a pretty tough event in terms of distance and the night time factor. However the course is simple, just follow the South Downs Way!
