2003 Event Summary

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The inaugural World's Toughest Half took place on Saturday, May 31 in Auburn, California on arguably the most breathtaking course anywhere in the multisport world. That is, "breathtaking", as in both literally and figuratively. The venue for the event was the Sierra foothill gold rush town of Auburn, some 35 minutes northwest of Sacramento, and the surrounding Auburn State Park and national forest land in the Sierra Nevada mountain range.

The event was conceived of by Brad Kearns, a former US National Champion and Number Three world-ranked professional who has lived and trained in Auburn for over a decade. His influence helped attract a field with numerous triathlon luminaries, including Hawaii Ultraman champion Gordo Byrn coming from New Zealand, former top professional Andrew MacNaughton, slowtwitch.com guru Dan Empfield and 13-time Catalina Marathon winner Buffalo Bill McDermott. Byrn looked to be the class of the field, with his main challenge coming from Jonathan Toker of San Diego, a 9:18 Ironman Canada finisher. Ultrarunning legend Tim Twietmeyer, a 5-time winner (and a 21-time finisher) of the Western States 100-mile Endurance Run, was on hand to anchor the favored relay team.

For those well versed in ultrarunning lore, the course covered parts of the Western States 100 course, such as the traverse of the No Hands Bridge between Auburn and Cool, near the end of the classic 100-mile course. And for those not well versed in said topic, yes, Cool, California is a real place with its own post office.

The most intriguing challenger was the 40-year-old MacNaughton, one of the world's top pros in the late 80s and early 90s who still holds numerous bike course records. After retiring in 1993 and working in the sedentary professions of web design and film production, MacNaughton decided to launch a comeback in February of 2003. On an experimental crash training program, MacNaughton attained an impressive fitness level for his comeback race at Wildflower in early May, site of his greatest triumphs as a pro. After swimming and cycling in the top-15 thru halfway on the bike, MacNaughton faded in the latter half. Rumors of massive cycling miles throughout May had many experts thinking MacNaughton was capable of a big surprise, especially on a course tailor-made to his cycling ability. As Scott Molina commented, "No one can climb long steady grades as effortlessly and efficiently as MacNaughton, it always looked like he wasn't even trying."

On the women's side, Jamima Iley of Davis, a top local pro, was in the midst of her own comeback from a Crohn's Disease diagnosis in 2001 and a severe car accident in 2002. Iley was using the race as a stepping stone en route to her goal of becoming the first person with Crohn's Disease to finish an iron-distance event, later in 2003. A late entrant was Anissa Seguin from Valencia, CA, a talented cycling specialist looking for a course to suit her strengths. When one reads a moniker like "World's Toughest", a natural skepticism often results. Kearns was confident with his title based on the accumulated climbing of the bike and run portions.

The bike accumulated climbing of 5,800 feet (almost 2,000 meters) is likely unmatched by any other half on the planet. The route consists of a 16-mile ridgeline climb, followed by a 10-mile descent to the bottom of the American River canyon. Riders then returned to Auburn with a 10-mile climb out of the canyon and a 20-mile descent back to Auburn.

The run course took place on the historic Western States trail in the Auburn State Park. Runners descend and climb out of the American River canyon twice for a total of 1,825 feet of total elevation gain. As Kearns reminded nervous participants before the event, only 4.7-miles of the route were uphill, with most of the route gentle downhill trails through the canyon to the American River.

The uphills are dramatic. First an 800 feet climb in 3 miles to the town of Cool on the opposite site of the canyon, then the extraordinary finish up the face of the proposed Auburn Dam construction site (The Dam Wall, for short), a 700 feet climb in 1.7 miles from the bottom of the canyon to the finish line in Auburn. This place is nothing more than a baking gravel pit, which the runners will negotiate near the tail end of their endorphin extravaganza. In all, you go twice to the bottom of the canyon and twice up, with only a small stretch on paved asphalt, what feels like flat, but what people in Nebraska would call hilly.

The swim venue was Lake Clementine, a narrow reservoir of the North Fork of the American river surrounded on all sides by massive canyon walls in the state park. The water, usually sunbaked warm in the canyon by May, was a chilly 59 degrees - a product of April's massive rain and snowfall in Northern California. The steep narrow road to the lake was entirely closed to vehicles to allow cyclists a safe ascent.

Spectators enjoyed a special birds-eye vantage point a half-mile above the lake on a hairpin turn that overlooked the entire swim finish and transition area 300 feet below. Gorgeous 'til it hurts they eyes! Ed Owen of Redwood City paced the field in the swim with a time of 25:12, and favorites Byrn, Toker and MacNaughton close behind. The climb to Foresthill allowed Toker to take control of the event in his specialty; he amassed a 6-minute lead off the bike. In the process, he collected a $100 prime donated by race sponsor Maki Heating & Air, who allowed cyclists to use their private road and bypass the traffic on the main thoroughfare through downtown Auburn.

The challenging canyon run and escalating heat offered plenty of opportunity for Byrn (second off the bike) to catch Toker. The two were the class of the field as no one was within 15-minutes on the run course. Byrn flew over the 13.1-mile course in an amazing time of 1:35. He caught and disposed of Toker, only to see him close hard on the Dam Wall and narrow the final gap to three minutes. "I hadn't seen the course before the event, but I knew it was going to be a long day just from the description," commented Byrn. "Jonathan is a talented cyclist and likes to push it hard. I decided to stay within myself and give everything I had left on the run. I have been training very seriously on the run. Jonathan made a good effort to close the gap on the Wall, but I had plenty of reserve to finish strong."

Until one has seen the course, the split times of Toker's 2:43 on the 56-mile bike or Byrn's 1:35 on the run cannot be fully appreciated. Kearns, who trained on the route frequently in his racing days, commented, "2:00 is a solid pace for a training run on the loop. 1:35 at the end of a triathlon is phenomenal. With Auburn reaching 86 degrees that day, the canyon was near 100 degrees." Jefferson Hartman of Martinez, winner of numerous local events over the past two seasons was third overall. Lon Freeman of Livermore was 4th. MacNaughton held on for fifth place, an outstanding performance considering his decade layoff and 3-month training program.

Seguin torched the bike leg 25 minutes faster than her nearest pursuer on her way to a dominating victory and an impressive twelfth place overall finish. Robin Oswald of San Luis Obispo was second, followed by Lara Niell of Reno in third. Seguin pocketed $250 + $50 SportsBasement.com gift certificate for her effort. Kearns added nice touches to help racers get up the Dam Wall, including giant chalk-drawn names and messages on the small stretch of paved road surface (a la Tour de France) and posters of Lance Armstrong and Roger Bannister with inspirational quotes.

An interesting note was the performance of 37-year-old Jeremy Roberts of San Francisco. At mile 2 on the bike he broke his derailleur hangar, rendering his bike useless. An hour later, the race mechanic Colin Maydall of Auburn Bike Works happened by and offered to convert the bike into a fixed gear so he could proceed. Roberts struggled through the 54 miles of mountainous riding in a single gear, grinding slowly uphills and coasting downhills. After that taxing effort and far outside the cutoff time, he elected to continue on his own on the run course.

Escorted for three hours by race sweep volunteer Jim Remillard, Roberts crossed the line in 10 hours, 12 minutes. Racers were treated to made-to-order Mexican food at the finish line and lavish awards and raffles from race sponsors Sports Basement, Cytomax, DeSoto Sport and Timex. Racers unanimously expressed a love for the challenging course and the tremendous support from volunteers at the eleven aid stations. The 2004 event is slated for late-April to allow an ideal tune-up for the Californiaman Iron-distance event May 22, 2004 in Folsom, CA.

Story by Danielle von Spanielle

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Participant Thank You Note

Thank you very much for supporting this new event and performing the extraordinary feat of finishing the World's Toughest Half! Congratulations to our winners Gordo Byrn and Anissa Seguin. Anissa's bike split of 3:05 was extraordinary on that course. Gordo's run time of 1:35 was phenomenal and the key to his convincing victory. I want to especially thank Gordo for supporting this event early on and coming all the way from New Zealand to participate - especially when Scott Molina was too afraid to step up...Gordo is one of the most thoughtful and accomplished ultradistance athletes in the world so you should immediately order a signed copy of his new informative training book, "Going Long".

Congratulations to Jonathan Toker and Anissa Seguin, winners of the Maki Hot Corner Cold Cash $100 bonus and the fastest cyclists of the day. Jonathan's 2:43 and Anissa's 3:05 were amazing on that 56-mile route! Congratulations to Andrew MacNaughton for launching an ambitious comeback in February after 10 years off and placing a respectable 5th overall in such a tough race. It is nice to see one of the greatest athletes in the history of the sport coming back and enjoying the pure thrill of endurance training and competition. Andrew has a great attitude as it's a great example to appreciate.

Congratulations to the inspiring effort from Jeremy Roberts, who busted his derailleur hangar at mile 2 of the bike and then rode 54 miles in a single gear and held on to complete the entire course in 10 hours!

As you may imagine, numerous people worked very very hard to make this event happen. All of the local volunteers and race staff did an outstanding job. I would like to particularly recognize the efforts of:

Hmm, is that everyone? Let's see...reg, swim course, aid stations...Hmmm, oh yes. There is one more special thank you that is especially important to note and that is to Andy Robles. Andy is the co-owner of J&A Productions with his wife Tamatha. You may know J&A from the South Bay Triathlon, San Jose International Triathlon, Catfish Open Water Swim, Folsom International Triathlon and the new CaliforniaMan iron-distance event on May 22, 2004 in Folsom.

Andy generously donated his time (including a 4am departure on Saturday to mark the bike course along with his right hand man Chris Hollingsworth!) and lavish equipment to ensure a safe and successful World's Toughest Half event.

When any market gets hot, there is always a danger of people sacrificing quality, safety and concern for your well being for the sake of profit or ego. We are seeing it today in triathlon. In Andy's 12 years in the business, he has proven to be committed to the athlete's safety and satisfaction before anything else. You will not find more caring, passionate, devoted event producers than Andy and Tamatha and the whole J&A Productions family, and you will never feel like your well-being or enjoyment is being squeezed for additional profit.

J&A is a family-run business with devoted long-term staff members who love to produce safe, fun, quality events - with reasonable price and field size. They listen to feedback and requests and always strive to improve their events. Name another owner of a large event production company who can be seen setting cones in the dark for someone else race - that is Andy's true character on display - someone who loves the sport and gives back to the sport!

I aspire to follow this model with my new World's Toughest events and would sincerely appreciate your input on how we can make the World's Toughest Half better in 2004. If you want to enjoy a fabulous iron-distance event next May 22nd, visit www.japroductions.com and enter the CaliforniaMan event before it sells out. Andy will give you $50 off to honor your participation in the World's Toughest Half. In fact, a World's Toughest Half date of April 18th makes it a perfect tune-up event for CaliforniaMan. In a joint promotion with J&A Productions, you can enjoy $100 off when you enter both 2004 events!

Email me if you would like to take advantage of this awesome joint offer!

Premier Sponsors

• Rocklin Running&Racing - go to this great new store in Rocklin and enjoy 20% off for all WT Half participants. Check out my training seminar Wed June 11. 916-294-8334
• Maki Heating & Air Conditioning - call them to save $200 for all WT Half participants. 530-887-3427
• Skip Outman of Lyon Realty - move to Auburn, the endurance capital of the world! Skip will take care of everything. 530-885-4527
• CytoSport - get a FREE 1.5lb Cytomax with your first order at www.bradventures.com for all WT Half participants
• Felt Racing - Do the WT Mountain Bike Aug 9th or WT Century Sept 6th to enter the Felt Racing bike raffle!
• SportsBasement - check out their web site for great deals on active lifestyle gear

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Participant Susie Grant's Race Day Diary

World's Toughest Half Brad Kearns had me intrigued. I had signed up for the World's Toughest Mountain Bike Ride early on and he was trying to convince me that I should also do the World's Toughest Half. I'm a sucker for a sale and the discount he gave me proved too much to resist. Why not? It sounds beautiful, it's close, and it's a new challenge. I was even more pleased when I decided to bail on Wildflower that I still had an opportunity to get my half in for the month. Even better, Ed decided to turn that into his 50% combo for Ironman Canada training. So on a sunny Friday afternoon we found ourselves headed towards Auburn for a little weekend getaway. Ikeda's here we come!

I was curious to see how this inaugural event played out. So far I was very impressed with Brad's website, his approach to life and training, and was really enjoying his Power Month program. What kind of race director would he make? Well, I was surprised to find out that he had entered me in the Elite division. Is he kidding? Does he have me confused with someone else? It was several years ago that we had met. I thought about trying to get it changed but figured, why not? There were about 150 athletes in the race and I would get a 5-minute head start. Cool. I would also get to start with Ed, which meant five fewer minutes he would have to wait for me! WTH is a double transition race. I had purposely ignored many of the logistics including the course profiles that showed 5900 feet of climbing on the bike and 1800 feet of climbing on the run. It was going to be very interesting given all my bike training had been on trails and I wasn't' running much because of some minor Achilles tendonitis. I was still looking forward to the day.

I told Ed that I was going to take my time and not to worry. He had no idea how much time. We dropped our run shoes off at T2 and headed down to the lake to view T1. It was quite a road going down to the lake. I forgot about all the steep turns as I looked out the window over at the powerful dam hurling water in a majestic waterfall. Wow. We turned around at the bottom (after remarking how peaceful the lake looked) and headed back up. Oh, this is going to be a climb. Oh well! We went and had a nice dinner and off for a good night's sleep. I was still amazed at how inexpensive the room was…

Saturday morning we got up around 5:30 am and got our things together. I put on lots of sunscreen and ate a banana. We parked along Lake Clementine road and rode our bikes down to transition. It was very low key and relaxed. Brad was out making last minute adjustments. Darn, I wasn't going to get to chew him out for entering me as elite. I finished getting ready early and was the first to arrive at the swim start. The water was a temperate 60 degrees. Ha ha. When I saw how Ed shivered after his warm-up I opted for none. The swim start/finish is just a few yards from the spillway that drops hundreds maybe thousands of feet. Stay on course! As the athletes gathered around, the race official welcomed us, told us to have a great day and herded the first of two waves into the water. He sent us off with a jingle from the cowbell.

The swim started out unremarkably until one of the elite females decided to swim on top of me and thrash back and forth. I kept trying to hold my line and push her out of the way. There was plenty of room; I couldn't understand why she needed to be on top of me. That and the huge kicking splashes. Hello. The worst was when she punched me so hard in the nose I saw stars. I got so mad I cursed, pummeled her, and pulled on her legs. She kept going. I had to slow down a little to compose myself as I had lost my breath. I thought for sure my nose was broken. I was afraid to stop as I thought I might panic and not be able to finish. I surged ahead. This was the one time I was thankful for the 60-degree water. I saw Ed round the first buoy and head back. His lead was a little less than I expected, I found out later he tried to turn a buoy early and lost some time. I reached the turnaround and headed back. I had more room and kept making progress to the launch ramp. One stroke at a time. I hauled myself out of the water and shouted my number while pulling my tag out of my cap (one disadvantage to not having a wetsuit leash).

I casually walked up the monster stairs to transition while trying to catch my breath. As I reached the top an enthusiastic relay swimmer shouted, "Great job! Second woman!" I was pleased and headed to my bike. Gu, salt tabs, helmet, I headed off as the announcer yelled, "There she goes from Team Sheeper, number 11, Susie Grant!" That was kind of fun. They were able to announce each athlete as they went by. I was loving this race already despite the broken nose and black eye. At least there was no blood. I started the long climb out of the first of many canyons. I went up a ways before I discovered my watch had stopped. I guess I didn't have a three-minute transition! I started it again and estimated a lapse of about five minutes. I found out much later I was way off; it nearly cost me the cut off! Anyway, I spun up the two-mile climb and relieved to discover it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.

Diana Hassel (Hawaii age group champion) and some of her friends were cheering us along the way. I yelled and asked her why she wasn't out on the course. I thought I had read that she would be racing. Smart woman, she was helping with the aid stations. I made it out onto Foresthill Road where I continued along the 20-mile climb. The road was wide and well paved and the view was phenomenal. Every now and then someone would come by and admire my bike or comment on my swim. My lower back was completely locked up and I was in a lot of pain. There were several times when I was worried I might not be able to continue. I just took some deep breaths, tried to stretch and adjust my position, and kept going. I kept saying to myself that I don't start what I can't finish. I finally reached the aid station at mile 16 a long long time into the ride. I wasn't setting any records, but I was staying aerobic and having a good time. We started the long 10-mile descent into the American River canyon. I could see it way down there and was wondering how far down we would go. Nearly all the way as I found out miles later!

About a quarter of the way down I saw Ed hustling around a bend "Good job Sweetie!" we both yelled simultaneously. He looked good and even smiled and waved. I was so proud of him. I was a bit jealous that he was nearly to the top. I continued down. My back was still bothering me and my shifters were a little lower than I like but I just kept breathing in that fresh mountain air. A couple of women got by me and I thought about giving chase, but I liked my go all day pace and didn't feel like suffering in the altitude. I finally reached the turnaround and started the long climb out. It wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be and I even made a few new friends. People like me who were just poking along happy to be outside and enjoying the unbelievably scenic course. I heard very few complaints about the difficulty. Once I reached the top I got off for a little stretch and restroom stop.

The volunteers were gracious and helpful. I hopped back on for the long descent. By this time my back had loosened up some, but I was still a bit crampy in the hip flexor. So I toiled along, thankful for the breeze. Even if it did seem like a headwind. As I passed the road leading down to the lake I braced myself for the bridge crossing and climb out into downtown Auburn. It came up quickly and I nearly burst into tears when I saw the light because I was a little hot, tired, and ready to get off my bike. A few miles to go including a 200-yard section of unpaved road. I was happy I had spent most of my training off-road. As I rolled into transition I saw a run finisher. "Darn it! I didn't get onto the run course before the first finisher!" The volunteer regretfully added, "I hate to tell you, but he's number two." Oh well. I threw on my hat and shoes and headed off onto the famed Western States trail. It was hot and I was tired but I picked my way down the initial descent following the pink ribbons. I was determined not to fall or hurt myself. Few know how much of a challenge that really is. I had a tender Achilles and some weird foot pain, so I didn't want to push it too hard. Well that and I was having a whole lot of fun trying to stay aerobic.

Before I knew it I was at the first aid station. I stopped and showed them my swim injury, thanked them for being out there and continued down the trail. I kept looking at the canyon down in the distance thinking we couldn't possibly be headed down there, I was still headed parallel to it. As I rounded the next corner I could see the tent for the next aid station. Again, I stopped, evaluated the buffet and showed off my red and swollen face. They told me it was about a two-mile descent to the next aid station and the way up to Cool was mostly covered. Up to Cool. Huh. I thanked them and trotted off. I came across a lot of ultrarunners out training. They're a friendly bunch, always asking how I was doing and telling me I looked great. I could see the No Hands Bridge below me and the aid station at the end of it. A few people hanging out. I ran across the bridge and on approach to the aid station shouted, "Wow! Mile 5 already?" I got some strange looks but I thought it was going by pretty quickly.

The Davis Mad Cows were there offering a variety of items. I joked with Diana Hassel that I had actually started the race this time. She was witness to my WF debacle where I made it down to transition (even put on my wetsuit) and left teary-eyed refusing to race. She congratulated me and asked if I needed any Gu. I headed up the trail. UP being the operative word. It was quite steep but I knew this wasn't the Dam Wall. Can it be worse than this? I was a bit puzzled when we took the trail marked "Shortcut to Cool 2.0 miles." The non-shortcut route was marked 1.7 miles to Cool. Perhaps the "shortcut" had less vertical. Switchback after switchback on single-track trail I wondered if this was passable on my mountain bike. I thought not. A woman named Sarah came up on me excited to find company. We ran to Cool together. This was a great part of the course.

After we popped out of the woods there was this beautiful meadow covered with purple flowers. And it was relatively flat! Another aid station. They started talking about "cut-off" times which caught me a bit off guard, was I close? I'd better get moving. I cut down the chitchat time and took a bottle of water. All along the course they were good about telling us when we had a longer than normal distance to the next aid station and provided us with bottles. I'm telling you, it was very well thought out. We ran along the road towards Auburn and I sent Sarah ahead. She had these really longs legs and I had a hard time keeping up with my shuffle. We had a 3-mile descent before the Damn Wall. It was all out in the open and very hot. I felt okay, just tired. I kept moving. I passed a couple of guys making some very strange noises. I headed down the steep and rocky descent. We were going down into the canyon with the mines. Oh my goodness. Straight down and straight up! I almost got some sunscreen at the bottom aid station but was too wet from the sponges. It's only a couple of miles, I'm sure I'll be fine. Ha!

As I ran across the valley I could see a smattering of runners picking their way up the wall. It was so steep and cruel it was funny. I kind of chuckled to myself as I worked my way up. I felt like a goat. I even passed someone! Halfway up there were some coolers filled with a variety of fluid and ice. Very nice. I headed up for the final stretch where Brad had placed a picture of Lance with an inspirational message. It gave me chills. I passed another woman whose friend had come down to meet her. I could hear the announcer and saw the tent way up among the trees. Getting there! This is when I found out my watch had stopped for almost 20 minutes rather than 5. The whole cut-off thing was looming. I asked the woman walking with me what her watch said. "7:47." "Oh SHOOT! I'd better get moving!"

I suddenly had a burst of energy and ran off up the hill. I really wanted to break 8 hours. The 7-hour goal had evaporated a long time ago, but I had to maintain some semblance of a respectable performance. I hauled myself up the last hill and around the corner. I could see Ed waiting. "I have to break 8 hours!" I could see the clock ticking away as I broke into a sprint. I half-consciously acknowledged that I felt way too good. I burst through the line at 7:59:26. I felt great even though it was probably my slowest performance ever. I took my time and really enjoyed the entire long, hot, hilly, and unique experience. I discovered that for me, it's not always about the time goal; sometimes it really is about pure enjoyment.

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Participant Andrew MacNaughton's Race Diary

My World's Toughest Half I woke up around 10 to 5 in Brad's office. I was sleeping between 2 racks of BradVentures supplies of CytoSport products, various bars, and tasty dog treats. Brad was sleeping not too far away in his own nest he created for the long days and delightful afternoon naps his new life is full of. I ate an apple and a pear, filled up my water bottles, put on my vintage 1990/91 shorts and singlet, which for some reason entertains people more than I can understand, packed my backpack with my runners, visor, wetsuit, cap and swim goggles, grabbed my bike and walked down the multiple switchbacks of the wheelchair ramp. I mounted my bike and rode off to set up my T2.

It was a beautiful day, blue sky, no wind. I met up with Dan Empfield and Gordo Byrn at T2, a pleasantly small and unsecured area compared to most races, a fine comment on the lack of need in this small foothill town, and we headed off in the direction of the race start. Typical pre-race chit-chat and stories were exchanged as we rode the last 7 or so miles of the course in reverse. There are no cars to be seen or heard, of course it's 6AM on Saturday morning and if not for the race I'd barely be making any noise myself.

The descent down to Lake Clementine is long, steep, bumpy, and breathtaking, for those who dare look beyond the next turn in the narrow winding road. The sound of brake pads wearing on metal and composite rims dominates the still morning air as you descend further and further down. I'd never been down to the lake and wasn't sure when this road was going to end - did I miss a turn? Am I going to end up at the bottom of the damn? A few more turns, a little rise and I end up in T1. No assigned racks in this early 80's throw back race - first come first serve. I bump into a few familiar faces, shake a few hands, eat a few bars, put on my Desoto T1 wetsuit (the only new equipment I have) and head down the long flight of stairs to the lake front.

The water is a cool 60 degrees +/-. The lake doesn't have a ripple on it until I break the surface walking down the boat ramp, and send a series of ripples fanning out from my waistline like an effect pool in the physics lab. The sun is hitting the top on the hills but isn't high enough yet to reach the lake. To my left is a several 100 feet drop off the damn, to my right the cool clear water of Lake Clementine. After a short count down, a few groans from the athletes, the sound of the race start disappears into the arm churned simulated class four whitewater rapid of athletes sprinting 200 meters towards the first buoy. I swam well, rounding the buoy 4th and holding that position through the end. My right calf cramped, which was a little spooky considering what lay in waiting on the roads ahead, but I shook it out and it seemed to be fine for now.

Emilio will be pleased to hear I removed my wetsuit at the waters edge without the least bit of effort, ran up the stairway to T1, cracked a joke or two, and mounted my bike with an optimistic excitement that the 2 weeks of heavy riding gave me. The course, after the first 2+ miles out of the lake, takes you up a 13 mile gradual climb, then you make a right turn to the most beautiful part of the race - a heavily wooded two lane road, winding 10 miles down to the river and the turnaround.

A mile into the ride the two race favorites, Toker and Byrn, passed and it wasn't long until they were up the road and out of sight. I road by myself with rarely anyone in sight the entire time except for the 2 people that passed me the one I passed. I got off the bike in 5th place, with 6th and 7th less than 10 seconds back, although 6th was actually 5 minutes ahead of me because he started a wave back. I rolled into T2 wondering what was in store for me on the run today. You never really know when you've had such limited training time, which also makes it quite exciting.

The trail run starts off with a 5 mile descent to the river, a 3 miles climb out on the other side, a mile or so of relatively flat pavement, then 2 miles of descent back to the river and a mile and a half back up the other side to where you started. When you think about it, it's a lot of work to end up right where you began! I started off grabbing a water bottle filled with Cytomax, and a Gulp n'Go and jogged off toward the trailhead. Not long afterwards I was passed by Jan Kees Elsbach, #6, the guy who started 5 minutes behind me, (I really need to work on my cycling!) who slowly disappeared off in the distance. I wasn't sure how fast, or slow for the matter, I was running. At least the other guy who got off the bike near me hadn't caught up yet. It didn't really matter how fast I was going. I had 13 miles to run and I was going to do at whatever speed I could. I started to loosen up just before the 5 mile mark.

As I approached the bridge and the second aid station, I could see #6 again. The course is mostly single track and therefore difficult to set up aid stations. The first question I asked at every one was - how far until the next one? With that information I could better decide what I would need to make it there! I grabbed some Cytomax and another Gulp n' Go and headed up the hill. I was really feeling good, but had no idea what sort of pace I was running until Jans appeared right ahead after a sharp turn. I guess I still didn't really know if I was running well or not, just that I was running better than #6 at this point. I said hi and offered some Cytomax and ran on.

I was gradually speeding up as I climbed out of the river canyon, testing myself to see what I was capable of doing. I was really enjoying myself and as I passed some hikers I heard them say - "That guy's smiling!" It was fun to run in the trails. At around mile 8, for the first time since since the bike, I could see the 4th place guy, or at least I thought it was him. I ran faster and faster hoping to catch him before the downhill.

Brad had written all sorts of words of encouragement on the pavement, even a note to me. In chalk, from one side of the road to the other, he wrote "go just another guy", and if I wasn't already enjoying myself, I certainly would have been after seeing that. I got to within about 400 meters before we started back down the canyon. At the 10 mile mark and aid station, #4 was less than 200 meters away. I approached the aid station while the volunteer was barking the supplies he had - salt tablets, Cytomax, Gulp n' Go - my first question was - how far to the next aid? It was 1.5 miles, so I filled up my water bottle and took off down the hill in search of #4. Not 200 meters later my calves started to twitch and cramp. Bummer I thought - there goes my chance to catch him - now I have to make sure I can finish.

I stopped for a bit and rubbed them and carried on down the hill, every so often getting a twinge in one or the other. I got down to the bottom of the canyon and ran up the other side as fast as I could with as little stress on my calves as possible. Halfway up there were more chalk signs on the road, pictures of Bannister and Armstrong with inspirational quotes, and Brad, at least when I went by, yelling words of encouragement.

The race went by very fast, and without a hitch. I crossed the finish line, met up with the friends who came to watch, had some mexican food, talked with other finishers and just relaxed. Although time wasn't standing still, 5 hours 17 minutes is a longtime to be racing, it was thoroughly enjoyed and kept me mellow for a couple of days before I was off on my next adventure.

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