RATS – Part 1
It is Sunday night – June 24, 2012. In 40 minutes we will take flight for Jacksonville, Florida; home. During our upcoming flight we will celebrate our 2-month anniversary of being married. And that is what is really important.
I expected to be here, with the one I love, flying home from the greatest race there is. With a battered body and blistered feet, I did not expect that she would be my wife. But that, dear reader, is *not” what this story is about. This story is about a group of people I call my friends, a place of beauty and magic, and a race that brings them together to create something so special that is brings tears to my eyes, while I’m there, every time I leave, and even now when I remember good times and bad.
PREFACE
How we came to be here: Training, adventures, injury, shortcomings, and yes, a wedding following by moving two houses into one. All fairly well chronicled on this blog, starting back in January
(Here: http://allaboutpace.blogspot.com/2012/01/adventure.html)
Day R-3
We met Leslie H. in the Denver airport. Now I have known Leslie for 14 years but I had never met her in person. You see, back before blogs, Facebook, even Myspace, there was social networking via newsgroups and listservs…
Leslie, Joel, Kurt, Pressler, and I all showed up for RATS this year having been previously acquainted on the Tri-DRS Listserv.
Leslie was kind enough to let us ride to Moab with her and spend a night at her (and her husband, Drew’s) lovely home in the mountains of Pine, CO.
Day R-1
Porcupine Rim
We went out on Sunday to preview the biggest challenge of the final stage – a little trail along a cliff in the Slickrock canyon. There was a rule…if someone said, “porcupine rim,” someone else would have to throw in the word, “JOB!” Because that is the kind of classy friends I have…
We ran (gaggled) out onto the trail and sat around and told stories for 30-minutes, then ran back – a gold hour. With some of my favorite people. That was followed by showers, more packing, then gear check. We had all of our required gear, got our numbers, etc. Then we headed out to dinner at an Italian restaurant. Others had the same idea and we ended up sharing our Last Supper with about a dozen of our fellow competitors. After dinner we hustled back to the host hotel for the pre-race meeting.
All that taken care of, we were left to our own devices until 1000 MDT
Day 1 (19ish miles)
We left Moab in a tour bus at 1100 and made a modern approximation of the reverse journey that we would undertake.
We arrived in Fruita just before 1300 and the race got underway 45 minutes later.
Gemini Adventures and Kokopelli himself did not design a course that would ease the traveler into their new environment and circumstances…oh, no. The temperature at the start was above 100F and the course became brutal quickly.
The rock strewn path made for tricky footing, and in the end we barely made the cutoff. The terrain was some of the most rugged we would face all week, and was a bit more than Judi was prepared for…but we made it. A highlight was climbing down and into Salt Creek, the cold water felt good in the 105F heat.
When we finished it was past 2000 hrs MDT which gave us but a few hours to rest up for…
Day 2 (40ish miles)
I knew that this was the day; long, hot with a relatively tight cutoff. We made excellent progress for the first 3 hours, at just over 12 miles and still felt pretty fresh. The air temp, however, reached 105F by 1030 and things went south quickly…
Judi really struggled on the day’s biggest climb. She told me that she was going to drop at the Aid station about 2 miles later. I was pretty upset for her and for feeling that I got her in over her head. Judi being Judi took it in stride and was at peace with her decision immediately.
At this point I started doing math. I realized that anyone behind us (there were 4 or 5) had basically zero chance of making the cutoff and we were kinda on the edge ourselves. I decided to run on ahead to the aid station to eat and get ready for the rest of the stage and I would proceed alone when Judi got there. As I jogged down to the aid station I stopped to pee…it was brownish…not good. But…30 minutes later I was off and confident that I could finish the stage easily… just 22 more miles. And they clicked off quickly… at first… but I found that if I ran my heart rate skyrocketed – no problem I can walk this mother.
By the time I got to the mile 30 aid station I was dizzy, disoriented, and cramping. I tried to will my legs to continue but alas I failed and had to pull the plug at mile 31. I found out an hour later that I’d lost 20 pounds during the stage…
The rest of the night I was worthless, I couldn’t eat, tried to drink, felt nauseous and cramped every time I moved.
I did not take my weakness or my DNF too well, I even tried to get us a ride to Moab, just go do something else, but it was to no avail.