Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: If you ladies leave my island, if you survive recruit training, you will be a weapon. You will be a minister of death praying for war. But until that day you are pukes. You are the lowest form of life on Earth. You are not even human fucking beings. You are nothing but unorganized grabastic pieces of amphibian shit. Because I am hard you will not like me. But the more you hate me the more you will learn. I am hard but I am fair. There is no racial bigotry here. Here you are all equally worthless. And my orders are to weed out all non-hackers who do not pack the gear to serve in my beloved Corps. Do you maggots understand that? – Full Metal Jacket
“We are gonna die.” – Animal House
I signed up for this race on a lark, mainly because my good buddies Bob Rayburn and Scott Olmer were doing it, so I decided “why not?”. I did this race in 2000 and finished just under 28 hours. I came back the next year to pace SLUG James Mercer. It’s amazing what 5 years can do to one’s memory. I remembered the hills, and some of the rocks, but I was totally shocked as to how rocky this course really is. At least I remembered the hills, and there were plenty of them.
I arrived in Little Rock Friday to steaming humidity. I knew then that my goal of a sub-24 hour finish was probably not going to happen. Bob and his fiancé Jana picked me up and we headed out to Lake Sylvia to hear the pre-race briefing. We got there a bit late so we had to weigh in and get checked in after the talk. Scott Olmer was already there, and we skipped the pre-race pasta chokedown and headed back to Little Rock and ate at the Flying Saucer, a great little restaurant with even greater beers.
Headed to Jana’s place (on the way we picked up even more beer) and spent time putting our drop bags together and ordered a pizza. Eating is good. Finally hit the sheets and got up early to head out.
“My advice to you... is to start drinking heavily.” -- Animal House
We got to Lake Sylvia about 45 minutes prior to race start. It was 73 degrees and high 90% humidity. Picked up our race numbers, and I started drinking water before the start. Better get hydrated early cause it’s gonna be hot.
Before we knew it, we were gathering to start and off we went into the damp darkness. Bob, Scott and I ran together up the road, singing hash songs and being totally obnoxious. We picked up another hasher from Mobile AL, and we had a nice conversation. Soon it was time to turn left off the paved road onto the dirt road. Bob fell back a bit talking with other runners and Scott and I made our way up the road. It took a bit longer than I remembered to get to the first aid station Brown’s Creek at 5.2 miles, in about 65 minutes. They had bacon strips here so I picked up a few and ate them as I was leaving. I slowed a bit waiting for Scott, and we continued on the road. At some point he had to pull over to do nature’s bidding so I went on. I had forgotten how long and windy the road was, and we continued to climb up until we got to the next aid station at 8.6 miles.
I got here in 48 minutes. They had ice water-soaked towels here so I helped myself to clean myself off a bit, then left and we were immediately on the Quachita Trail. We would be on this trail for 7.8 miles.
“I think you'd be glad later if you weren't here now.” – Animal House
The trail was pretty nice, but more rocks than I remembered. Some of the rocks were slick from an early morning rain a few hours earlier. Scott caught up with me and we chatted a bit, and I offered to step aside and let him pass, which he did. He was soon gone, and I wanted to take it easy here and not go overly hard since I knew there were more hills to conquer. Save it now cause I’ll need it later. The trail loops around and takes us back to the first aid station (Brown’s Creek) at mile 12 on the course. It took me 40 minutes to get here. Now we had a big climb in front of us that went up for over a mile. Lots of walking here. By now I was running with a fellow Coloradan, Chase Squires, and we had a nice conversation about this and that, which passed the time wonderfully. Before I knew it, we were approaching the Lake Sylvia aid station (out starting point) at mile 16.4. This first part took me 3:37 to complete. I estimated 3:30 for a sub-24 hour pace, so I was fairly happy with my time so far, considering the conditions and all.
“Ah, this is the worst lookin' hat I ever saw! I bet you buy a hat like this you get a free bowl of soup, huh?...Oh it looks good on you, though.” -- Caddyshack
I stopped here briefly to change shirts, hat, and added an ice bandana for the heat of the day coming up. Refilled my bottles. Grabbed some sandwiches, coke, and beat my big feet outta there. Upon leaving fellow SLUG Lee Hess greeted me (we had never met but he recognized my SLUG shirt I was wearing) and said he would be at Lake Winona to help me there. As I was making my way up the road to the next aid station at 22 miles, I ran into, behind, and with the race Co-Race Director Chrissy Ferguson and I just listened in on her conversation with her running friend. When we got to the point in the course where we hit 95 miles on the way back Chrissy told me I have to touch the sign to guarantee a finish. So I did. I guess that didn’t work, in hindsight.
“You all right in there?”
“Yeah, for a man pissing razor blades.” – The Green Mile
I did manage to pee a few times along here and noticed it was getting darker. Dehydration is setting in, so I started drinking more. Finally I got to the road and made a left turn, and not far up the road was the next aid station, Pumpkin Patch, mile 22.
Got to the Pumpkin Patch aid station, ate some pie, grabbed a sandwich, and left with refilled bottles. The next aid station was 2.3 miles away, and I got there in less than 30 minutes. By now the sun was starting to come out now and then from under the clouds. Thank God for the clouds because without them it would have been much hotter. The clouds managed to stay in most of the afternoon and kept us from baking. Irregardless, the temps did get into the low 90’s.
“Take caution in your tone Commander, I'm a fair guy but this fucking heat is making me absolutely crazy.” – A Few Good Men
It took me about 55 minutes to get to Rocky Gap aid, mile 28.6, with a total time of 6:20. The section between Rocky Gap and the previous aid station was fairly even, but rocky and rolling. Chrissy said a few years ago the park had bulldozed the trail for access to the area for tree harvesting. It was much ruttier back then. I made my way to Lake Winona, mile 32, in 7:06. Time to sit down for a few minutes and rehydrate, eat and relax. Lee met me here as well as Jana and they played slave to my every whim. I picked out my ice hat from my drop bag, as well as other items for my pack. Got my ice bandana and ice hat filled with ice, and I sat there eating and drinking. Okay, time to leave now.
“That's a peach hon. Oh golly I'm hot today.” – Caddyshack
The sun was alternating coming out of the clouds and going back in, and when it peaked out, it was hot. I was hoping it would stay behind the clouds as this was going to get worse. Luckily, it did. The way out of Winona was pretty much an uphill climb. There were some gentle upgrades and some downhills, which I was able to run, but the uphills forced me to walk. About a mile out of Winona I saw someone ahead who was puking alongside the road. It turned out to be Carey Smith, another SLUG, and he was having some stomach issues. I asked him if he was taking salt, drinking, eating, etc. and he said he was but his stomach was upset. I didn’t know what to do for him so I told him to take it easy, as this is mostly an uphill climb all the way to Smith Mountain 10 miles distant. I was feeling pretty well, and found myself running a lot of the road, even some of the up hills. Got to the Pig Trail aid station in a little over an hour, for 4.5 miles. Refueled, re-iced, and left. As I was leaving, it was raining ever so slightly. It felt good, and I was so wet anyway it didn’t really get me any more wet. As soon as it started, it was over.
“I gotta work on my game.”
“No, no, no. Don't think of it as work. The whole point is just to enjoy yourself.” -- Animal House
I was actually running most of the trail up to Club Flamingo, except for the steeper climbs. Before long, there were signs of Club Flamingo aid station ahead. One sign said “Free Prostate Exam. See Dr. Jay”. Not long after, there it was, and I yelled out “I wanna a prostate exam!” Lots of laughs and out came a guy with a rubber glove on his hand. Okay, not the last part. Anyway, I refilled my bottles, got more ice in my hat and bandana, and as I was walking out, a nice young girl in a coconut bra offered a cold sponge down. Yowsa! Now that felt great! I left on a positive note and a nice downhill, which soon went back up. I ran the flats and downs, walked the ups. Same routine, but somehow I was enjoying myself. About a mile from Smith Mtn aid station, I spied Scott just ahead. I focused in on him, and not long after, made the right turn at the radio dispatch station that marked Smith Mtn aid ½ mile ahead.
I got to Smith Mtn in 9:46 (just 50 minutes from Flamingo) and watered down and iced down. Scott saw me come in and left. The next couple of miles was pretty much an uphill grind. There was some running, but it was mostly a walk. It was nice to take a bit of a break from the running, so I just enjoyed it. I was keeping Scott in sight the whole time. Not far from the next aid station, Chicken Gap, I stumbled on pure redneck heaven: a couple of RV’s with a cardboard sign on one of them saying “Deer Camp”. As I ran through “camp” I saw a guy working in the back of his pickup truck. Not sure what he was doing, but I assume it was a deer.
"Tell the cook this is low-grade dog food..this steak still has marks were the jockey was hittin' it." -- Caddyshack
A few minutes later I got to Chicken Gap aid, mile 46. The previous race director of Arkansas, Charley Peyton, was there with his wife Lou. We were greeted by a life size cardboard cutout of Bill Clinton wearing a Traveler hat. Lou offered me a grilled cheese sandwich. I removed the pickle from within, and ate it with gusto. Charley filled my bottle. As I was leaving there was a cardboard cutout of Hillary. I thought Halloween was still weeks away. Not long after leaving, I caught up with Scott. So we ran together for the next 2 miles to the next major aid station at Powerline. Scott said he had asked the guy at Deer Camp how the hunting was. His reply was “Too hot for huntin’!”. Just a few hundred yards from Powerline, I saw a guy wearing an OU Sooners shirt. I asked him about the score, and he said Texas was ahead 14 to 7. Bummer I thought. Scott asked about the Nebraska Cornhuskers, but nobody was sure of the score.
"Well I aint payin' no fifty cents for no Coke.
Then you aint gettin' no Coke..." -- Caddyshack
Got to Powerline, weighed in at 200 lbs, 5 lbs over my baseline weight. No surprise, my old friend edema was back, and it was all water weight gain. Lee came over to help and I asked him to get my drop bag. I sat down, was handed my drop bag. Drank some coke, ate a PB&J sandwich Lee was so kind enough to fetch for me. I restocked my pack, got my bottles refilled, and it was time to go. Scott had already gone on ahead. I spent about 7 minutes here, but I felt it was worth the time. I got up and felt great. There was a bit of an uphill here but soon I was running again. This next section all the way to Turnaround 10 miles distant went really well here. I ran the bulk of the section. I saw a sign for 50 miles, looked at my watch, it said “11:30:15”. Not bad I thought, and with the way I was feeling and running, I might have a hot at 24 hours. I caught up with Scott and we ran for a bit together, but I was feeling well and wanted to go for it while I could. I left Scott behind me, and I kept picking off runners ahead of me. This section is very rolling, and some of the more major uphills I walked. I found myself running 1/3 to ½ of a hill, then walking. This section to the next aid station is a bit of a haul, about 4 miles. Soon, I saw the next aid station ahead, Chile Pepper.
"I want a hamburger, no a cheeseburger. I want a hotdog. I want a milkshake. I want potato sala—“
“You'll get nothing and like it!" -- Caddyshack
It took me 56 minutes to get here, not bad considering. The sun was starting to set and it was getting more comfortable, but it was still humid. I grabbed some mashed potatoes, got my bottles filled, and a kind soul offered me a sponge to wipe off. I wiped off my legs, arms, and face. It felt wonderful. Just as I was leaving, fellow SLUG Paul Schoenlaub called out my name and ran with me for a hundred yards or so, offering me words of encouragement. I said I’d see him in a few hours on the way back. Like in the previous section, I would see a runner ahead and I would try to reel him/her in. I caught up with Brian Kuhn, another SLUG, and wished him well. I was wanting to get to the Turnaround aid station, mile 58, before I had to pull out a flashlight. It seemed like it was forever (6 miles) until the last big climb to the top and the next aid station. It was dark now, and I had to pull out the light about ½ mile from the top. Ate some potato soup, drank about 3 cups of coke and water, got my bottles refilled, and I was out. It took me 1:14 to do these last 6 miles. The nice part is now I have a nice downhill to run, and it was fun seeing all the people coming up to the aid station as I was heading out.
"I'm going to give you a little advice. There's a force in the universe that makes things happen. And all you have to do is get in touch with it, stop thinking, let things happen, and be the ball." -- Caddyshack
I felt myself slowing down somewhat, but I was still moving well. I then noticed that my flashlight was dimming. I hoped it would stay on. About ½ mile from Chile Pepper, it went out. Yikes! It was dark. I moved pretty slow, trying to get my eyes acclimated to the darkness. I could make out some terrain on the road, but it was slow. A runner coming toward me asked me how I was doing. I said fine except for my flashlight crapping out. He offered me small backup light he got from the Chile Pepper aid station. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. I said thanks and started running again. Got to Chile Pepper finally, taking me 1:33 to get here from Turnaround.
"Hey Sabu, can you make a bullshot?”
“ Can you make a shoe smell" -- Caddyshack
I pulled in and asked if they had any extra batteries to spare for my light, and I gave the borrowed light back to one of the aid station person there. Paul came up and offered me some help, and not long after someone was pushing some batteries in my hand. I asked Paul for some mashed potatoes, got my bottles refilled, and drank some water. Boy, those potatoes were great! With my flashlight now working and food in my gut, it was time to mosey along. I said thanks to all and left.
Along the way back to Powerline, I encountered two copperhead snakes in front of me crossing the road. I’m glad I didn’t see one when I was in the dark back there. It took me 1:28 to get back to Powerline, and my feet were starting to hurt me. I was feeling some hot spots and grit in my shoes. I’ll have to take care of that at Powerline.
“Get that finger out of your ear, you don't know where that fingers been.” -- Airplane
Got into Powerline, mile 68, in 16:26 and weighed in at 194. I was now way too late for a sub-24 hour, but that’s okay. I spent about 10 minutes here changing into another shirt, eating, drinking, taking care of my feet, relubing chafed areas. As I felt my feet, there was grit, but my feet were also feeling tenderized, no doubt from the rocks. Only later did I realize I was also developing blisters on the inside ball of both feet from all the moisture (both from humidity and from the constant sweat dripping onto my shoes and soaking my feet). I got up and ambled my way out of there. My feet were really hurting now. I pretty much walked all the way up to Chicken Gap aid station, mile 70.
After taking care of me, I left and said goodbye to Charley and Lou and I made my way up the hill to the top of Smith Mountain. Once at the top, it was down and my feet were really hurting now, and it was tough trying to manage the rocks and ruts as I headed down to the Smith Mountain aid station just a few miles distant. Finally, I got there an hour and change later, and quickly refilled and left for the next aid station at Club Flamingo.
"I tell ya, I shoulda stayed home and played with myself." – Caddyshack
I don’t seem to recall too much in this stretch, but I did walk a lot, ran some, and contemplated dropping. If I was going to drop, it would have to be at Lake Winona since the wait time for getting out of the aid stations between here and there was in the time span of hours. I did manage to run a good bit of the road section and the time passed reasonably well. I got to the uphill section that signaled I was close to Flamingo. Soon I saw kerosene torches along the road, and saw the glow of aid station lights just ahead and above me. This stretch took me 1:20 to complete 3 miles. I was moving slow for sure.
“Thank you, sir. May I have another?” – Animal House
Got to Club Flamingo and promptly sat down to massage my feet and drink and eat. I ended up drinking about 3 cups of ginger ale (they were out of coke) and half a PB&J sandwich. Man, my feet were killing me. It was tough to get back up but I managed and hobbled my way out of there, dreading the next section down to Pig Trail aid station. It is only 3 miles, but the road is very rocky, rough and rutted. It was in here I got passed by a lot of people. I was moving so slow the progress seemed scant to none. The funny thing was my legs were feeling fine, my breathing issues, finally, were a non-issue. It was just my feet. I could feel the blisters developing and it was all I could do to keep moving. It took me 1:38 to travel the 3 miles to Pig Trail.
“A man's got to know his limitations.” – Dirty Harry
When I got in to Pig Trail aid, I asked about a ride out of there. I was told 6 hours. Yikes. So I got my bottles refilled, grabbed a bit of food and walked out. It was going to be a long 4.5 miles to Winona. It was now 3:09 AM, and I figured it would take me several hours to get there. Granted the road was relatively smooth, but there was a bit of an uphill grade, and I already decided to call it, so I walked. About 30 minutes later a truck came up from behind and the driver slowed down and asked how I was. I said I was done, planning on dropping at Winona. “Are you going to Lake Winona and if so, do you have room?” He did, so I hopped inside and found another runner who was suffering from severe dehydration. He was really hurting and it made me seem like my issues were pale in comparison. But my feet were hamburger and it was pointless to continue. As we drove down the road, I offered up words of encouragement to the runners we passed along the road. Physically, I was feeling fine, and it was a let down that I wasn’t able to continue. Just my feet. We got Winona, and they cut off my wrist band that officially tendered my resignation from the race. We then proceeded to the end of the race at Lake Sylvia.
We got there and I offered up a big “thanks” for the driver and ambled my way into the tent to try to find a place to sleep. There was a cot there and a kind worker there offered up a blanket for me and off to sleep I went. I did have to get up about every 30 minutes to use the restroom….look’s like the water weight I gained during the day was making it’s exit from my body.
I eventually got up around 6:30 AM. As I was walking out to the restroom, Bob called out my name and I said I’d be right back. The rest of the morning was spent talking about the race, Bob’s issues, and cheering in everyone as they came across the finish line. Brian Kuhn came in and immediately headed to the diving platform on the lake and jumped in.
Finally, Scott appeared and we all cheered him in for his 27:30 finish. Bob asked him if he would do this race again, and Scott promptly said “I think I can successfully cross this one off my list”.
After much rejoicing that it was indeed over, we spent a bit of time soaking sore feet in the lake (I opted not to due to the blisters as I wanted to spend some time fixing them up in the comforts of a dry house).
In retrospect, I felt I was in good shape to finish the race, and while maybe not a sub-24 hour time, at least a PR (27:45). But the humidity took it’s toll the pounding on my feet was the final discriminator in the end. You can’t control the weather and it is what it is. I don’t do well in humidity, and considering how far I got with what I got, I feel I did reasonably well.
Time for a few weeks of rest and I head out to the dry and hot climes of Phoenix for Javelina the end of October. Now that I can handle.
