Zane Grey 50 Mile

The morning started out clear and cold after fretting about the rain that greeted us upon our arrival in Payson on Thursday. We even saw a dust of snow at the finish line as we checked it out on Friday.

Our Austin group consisted of hubby Robert and me, Joe Pursaitis, Jim Balthazar, Melissa Hegen, Pete Mehok, and Richard Viktorin. We emerged from our rooms at Paysonglo Inn and were escorted to the start by Super crew Ellen Balthazar. We anxiously awaited the start, snapped a couple of photos, and took off into the already beginning to lighten sky. A flashlight was needed at the start, but thankfully not for long as I was carrying two water bottles. I soon stashed my light in my back pocket. The start seemed unusually quiet to me; not the usual chatter I hear at the beginning of most races. Robert and I started together and ran the 1st ascent together. It would have been fun to run the race with him, but our strengths and weaknesses are so different that I knew that would not happen. He left me in the 1st rocky decent as I picked my way along the rocks. The trail in this section was not too bad except for the prickly plants painting my legs. Scrapes and scratches don't really bother me as my main concern is remaining on my feet after coming off some runs with some pretty serious falls. I meet up with Don Halke and Dawn (who ended up running many miles with Robert) but they lose me due to numerous pit stops. Glad I only had a half-cup of coffee! I reach the 1st aid station right at 2 hours, 30 minutes ahead of cut-off, which is right where I want to be. Ellen is there to help and I see Robert going up the hill out of the aid station. So I snap his picture and Ellen snaps mine. Don't really need to do anything but drop my flashlight, dump some Spiz in my bottle, refill and be on my way. I forgot to grab any food, but am ok since I have the Spiz and my hammer gel and also some power bar tucked in a pocket.

I leave fairly quickly and chase Robert up the hill. I catch him as he is photographing a very red manzanita tree. We run together a bit but I soon pull ahead. Jim Sullivan (who I met the day before) catches up to me and we chat for a bit. He confirms my thoughts that if I can be an hour ahead of cut-off by mile 25 that I would have a good shot at finishing by dark. He soon pulls ahead to finish well ahead of me. I see Don again and meet Debbie. I finally get to the aid station at mile 17 in about 2:30 (a bit behind my goal of 2-2:15). Ellen is again there to help me out. I pick up my fanny pack and extra water bottle. Course info had stated that the burn area was between miles 20 and 30 and I opted to pick up my extra bottle early rather that wait till Hell's gate. I even stash and extra 6 oz bottle in my pack, just in case. Dump heed in my drink bottle. I am finding that I enjoy drinking heed on the run as it is not nearly so sweet as most Gatorade type products and have premixed electrolytes in it so I do not have to worry about capsules while I am drinking heed. Ellen tells me that Joe and Jim are about 20 minutes ahead. I hurry out as I am already feeling the pressure to get further ahead of those cut-offs.

In the next stretch, I run with Don a bit more. I want to take pictures but do not feel I have the spare time. Robert had just bought me a new compact but high quality camera to carry on runs. I had even added a velcro strip to one of the pockets on my race ready shorts to ensure that it did not fall out. But for now I was concentrating on moving forward. We pull into Hell's gate in about 2 hours for this stretch and I am excited to have cut 30 minutes off that section's cut-off. I top off 1 water bottle, 1 heed bottle, and one Spiz bottle and switch out my empty hammer flask for a full one. I check out the food table and discover turkey tortilla rolls. Boy, did they hit the spot along with some chips. Life is good. I make a comment about being halfway and am informed that this aid station was actually 23 miles in, not 25, and the next aid would be 10 miles away. Hmm...

I head out feeling pretty frisky, but that did not last too long. It was hot and open and the grassy field hid many rocks. Rocks, rocks, rocks. I had been told that is was a very rocky course and I was finding it to be true. I had watched the video and the photographers did not really show much of the rocky stuff. Don is pulling ahead as I crawl over a big old log. Feeling in a low spot, I just sit there for a bit like I am riding a horse. But this horse ain't going nowhere and I try to catch up with some runners I see ahead. I see a runner in a long sleeve black shirt and dark hat standing under a shade tree and then hear him call my name. It is Richard Viktoran. I can't help but ask him why he is dressed like that in the middle of the hot, exposed area. He says he has no sunscreen, but I have none with me to offer. He is contemplating stopping at 33 as we are so far in the back of the pack, but I say, Hey, we are still ahead of cut-off. I push on and catch up to Don again in a section of beautiful views of the mountains. I now feel that I have made up enough time to start snapping some photos since I made the 3rd section in my 2-hour goal, conveniently forgetting that that section was actually only 6 miles. Don takes my picture, I take his and we go on. He pulls ahead as I stop to snap and interesting flower and then some of some bleached bones, presumably a runner from last year. I push onward through the rocks and climbs and ascents and descents. This course is kicking my ass and I begin to think that if I do not make the cut-off, I can be put out of my misery. Then I think of my friend, Brenda, who I paced at her 1st 100-miler (Rocky Raccoon) a couple of months earlier. Failure is not a option, I recall her saying as she was struggling to a finish beating the 30 hour cut-off by 9 minutes. She would be so disappointed to hear I did not make it. So I keep pushing. I see a person and think that I am finally getting to the aid station. But it is a volunteer handing out extra water to those who did not have enough. I had plenty, but was disappointed to find out it was still 3 miles to the next aid station. I realize I need to haul ass as I discover that I will be eating into my cutoff cushion during this section. I see a road and some cars parked (including one that looked like the one Ellen was driving). Crossing the road I am looking for the 33 mile Fish Hatchery aid station. The trail continues and I am seeing no people. I go on and am wondering if I missed it. I keep going and am now 8 or 9 minutes from where I saw the road. I see some cars and people below me and wonder if they are with the race. The trail is now turning away from that sighting and I am about to turn around. I decide to go 10 minutes before I turn around and was just about to when I saw a person. I asked him if he was with the aid station. He said no and my heart sank. He then said it is about 30 feet down that way. Whew. This section took me about 3 hours and it is now about 2:40 pm. There were 2 sets of info on cut-off times for this station 3:00 and 3:30. Assuming that the 3:30 time was correct since it was on the print-out given at the race briefing the night before, I feel confident. I had been feeling a hot spot on my bunion and one on my heel (those relentless climbs) so I decided it would be a good time to change socks and wash my feet if possible to apply band-aids. So Angel Ellen sat me down and got a pot of water. I made many joyful noises as I submerged my feet in the water. As Ellen helped me fix my feet and replenish my nutrition and fluid, she informed me that Joe and Jim were still about 20 minutes ahead, Robert was 15 minutes behind me at mile 17, and that the youngsters (Melissa and Pete) were smoking it. An aid station volunteer came over and informed me I had 15 minutes to clear the aid station, so I put it in high gear. I had done the last tough 10-mile section in just over 3 hours and had 3 1/2 hours to do the next 11. That's very doable, I think. I ask the volunteer what the terrain is like in the next section. Rolling, he says. Cool, I think. I can do that. I find some more of those yummy turkey rolls, and head out, 10 minutes ahead of cut-off.

Rolling, my ass!!! Steep up, steep down. Rocky, Rocky, Rocky. Big rocks, small rocks, sliding rocks. Struggling up climbs that made my legs feel like jelly at the top, I could not take off running. Very small sections to run amongst, did I say rocks? I am thinking I must be doing about 25-minute miles in this area. I had better find some runnable stuff and get my ass moving. I come upon another volunteer with emergency water and find out I have only been five miles in this section. I have plenty of fluid to get me to the next water volunteer 3 miles down the way. I go on forever and again think of the relief of missing cut-off. But the Buckle!! The DNF :-( If I didn't finish, I would have to come back and do this MF all over again. I think of Brenda again. Then a see the next water volunteer. I have to be close to the aid station. 4 more miles. I am finally in a downhill section that is not so rocky and I start nail it. I actually feel like I am running fast, but who knows at this point. I pass Don and a lady in white tights and say I am giving it the college try to make that cut-off. They were as well. Then I see the radio guy and he says I have 1 1/2 to 1 3/4 miles to go. I look at my watch and I have 20 minutes to cut-off. No way, I think, but I give it everything I have. In just a couple of minutes, I see Robert and he has walked up in 5 minutes, so I knew I was there. I was at least relieved to find out I had been given misinformation. I made it in at 6:15 and was out of there by 6:20.

The bad new is that if Robert was there waiting for me, he obviously did not make the 33 mile cut off. He had worked hard coming back from a ruptured tendon, made this ass-kicker his goal, but could not quite make the cut-off. I had really been worried about that since I had been so close and I knew he was behind me. Also at the aid station, Richard Viktoran had dropped at 33. Joe had left about 15 minutes earlier. Unfortunately, Jim, who had made it in a shortly before me, had thrown up earlier and the medics were watching for him. They were examining him as I left. He said he was gonna be ok and get out of that aid station on time. But the medics did not concur, and pulled him from the race. Such a disappointment as I know Jim had trained really hard for this event. I noted that Don and friend arrived ahead of cut-off as well.

Out of the aid station to start the last 6 miles. Now I can breathe!! If you make the 44-mile cut-off, they will wait for you at the end till you finish. Two guys and I started down the trail at a mosey. The pressure was off and we were trying to catch our breath. This section had one more climb, but we were done with the rocks. I ran/shuffled as much as I could because I knew many of our crew had been waiting for a while already, and I was ready for a celebratory beer and burger!! I paused at about 7:30 to get my flashlight and put on a long sleeve shirt. The two guys passed on by and was also passed by Debbie who was cruising at a pretty strong pace. I came upon a guy (Robert De Haan) with a very weak flashlight, and he asked if he could hook on to some of my light, so we took it in together. Missed finishing before dark by about 45 minutes, but finish I did. That was a hard-earned belt buckle.

I thought Zane Grey 50 was a very well presented event. There was an excellent pre-race dinner from Cucina Paradis Restaurant in Payson. Goody bag included a Fuel Belt transition pack, race-ready T-shirt, Headsweats running cap, and a pair of Montrail after race flip flop sandals that mold to your feet. The trail was very well marked. Finishers earned a belt buckle, Zane Grey video, and a coffee mug. Burgers, etc, were served until the last runners came in. There was even beer provided at the finish line, although that did run out before I got there. (Would not go without the foresight to bring my own anyway!) Aid stations were well stocked and volunteers were attentive and knowledgeable. My only complaint is the misinformation given regarding aid station mileage and cut-off time. In particular the 25-mile point was located at 23 miles, and the handout at the pre-race briefing differed from the info on the website by allowing 30 extra minutes at the last 2 aid stations. From what I hear, there were inconsistencies with enforcing the 2 different times. And if volunteers along the trail are going to tell you how far you have to go, they should at least be close in their approximation.

Will I do it again? At this point, the severity of the ass-kicking is still fresh in my mind. Don't know if I can look at those rocks again. I'm glad I got that buckle so that I do not HAVE to try again. I am really glad that I did it, but there are so many events out there waiting, calling, wanting me to accept their challenge.