Wahsatch Steeplechase

This one almost didn't happen. Well, not for me at least. A last minute e-mail informed the runners that the weeks of bad weather could lead to a course change. I had resolved to go back to bed if I was denied my chance to rematch the original course. Thankfully I woke up to weather that was at best good enough. Butch let us all know that to be safe we had about 2 hours at most to make the summit and negotiate the crags before our weather window would close. I did something a bit different this time, and I went out hard instead of my usual conservative pace. Well, I went out hard relative to my ability. From start to summit is all uphill, so I ran anything with a gentle slope, and slowed to a power hike on anything steep, or when I approached a level of huffing and puffing that would scare other racers. So far so good. My hydration and fueling strategy was panning out, and the extra attention paid to tapering over the past week had me feeling strong. At the base of the steepest and close to final climb to the summit, I heard the rumbling of thunder overhead. I would later learn that this thunder and lightning would cause Tara (my better and smarter half) to turn back. I know this was a decision that she struggled with immensely. She loves running and has a strong sense of pride, but also has a heavy fear of lightning. I was too close to the top, and kept on pushing. I started feeling a little gassed as the summit approached, and as the crags came into view my calves started cramping. Water, electrolyte pills and more fuel put a stop to that. The crags were very slippery and traffic soon bottle necked and slowed to a crawl. After clearing the hardest climb, the traffic cleared and we were on the move to Smuggler's Gap. It was all downhill from there, and it was on! I filled up on water, thanked the volunteers and took off down the trail. I quickly found out that I am indeed capable of doing a split. I got going a bit too fast and my left foot shot off the trail. It was more of a James Brown down and up split, and I only needed to pause long enough to make sure everything was intact. It was muddy and very, very slick. One section was equipped with a climbing rope. I found a way to make this rope dangerous though, and got in it's way as a lady, ahead and downhill, put her weight into it. She leaned back, the rope pulled taught and kicked me in the side of the neck, sending me almost head over heels off the trail. The rest of the trip down to the canyon floor was smooth and fast. I was disappointed see some runners cutting corners, and my first instinct was to take them down. Not turn them in; I mean take them down to the ground, punch them just a little, then force them to retrace their steps. I then realized that I train to run now, not to fight. Reaching the canyon was a morale boost, but then my biggest problem hit. I have never had stomach issues before, but today was the day. Having some salt helped a bit, so I'll assume it was an electrolyte issue. I went into auto pilot and just kept on pushing. At this point I was falling apart and my breathing and footfalls echoed through the canyon. Coming to the top of Memory Grove revived me and I ran it home. The official results are not up yet. 3 hours 35 minutes by my watch. I set a goal of sub 4 hours, so I am a happy man. A happy man with very sore calves. Maybe next year I can muster up sub 3 hours.