Relentless Forward Motion- The Wasatch 100

Darkness settled in on the road down Guardsman Pass we made our way towards the Brighton aid station at mile 75.  I had fallen of my planned splits nearly 20 miles ago, I was having a very difficult time keeping my head in the race and my left knee was mounting a full fledged revolt.  As the sun set and it’s final rays of light were extinguished, I felt the same had come to my race: I wanted to quit, no longer did I have the positive attitude I desperately needed to complete the task it hand.  The situation had indeed become very dark.

At this point I’ll give you the heads up that a 100 mile is a long run that results in a lot to talk about.  During this race I had some experiences that have come to define my character, and given the importance of those events I did not hold back in writing this report.  Now would be a good time for you to run to the fridge grab a beverage and then come back ready for a long journey….

About two months early during a long night training run I felt a bit of a twinge in my left knee.  ”It’s just tender because of the big weeks your putting in,” I had said to myself.  I continued to train and race as I had planned, the knee held up for the most part, three weeks out from Wasatch it flared up, “no worries,” I thought, “I’ll just start tapering early and things will work out just fine”.  Mileage was quickly reduced to a small percentage of normal, I spent time on the bike, doing yoga and trying to deal with full on taper tantrums. A week out from the race I visited a friend that is a sports medicine doc and he suggested a cortisone shot, just to make sure the knee would finish coming around.  I got the shot, my knee felt much better a day or two later, and I committed to showing up at the start line.  I was healed, right?

It was quite cool at 4:30 am as runners gathered at the starting line the morning of the race.  Rumors of snow up high spread through the crowds.  I had a hard time containing my excitement, cold now would probably mean cool temps all day, perfect for running hard.  I made my way to the front of the pack just before the race started, and as we headed out I forced myself to hold back and fall in around 10th or 11th.  I stayed at that point until the trail started to climb more aggresively when I made a quick pass of a few folks and fell in behind Nick Clark and Nick Pedatella who were pulling away from the group.  I stayed about 20-30 feet back and worked on keeping my heart rate low.  I felt very comfortable with the pace, it felt easy, I was controlling myself and was right were I wanted to be.  I stayed close to them until we hit the ridge where the trail flattened out, they both started moving faster than I wanted to at this point.  I was running my own race.

I hit the Francis Peak aid station in 3rd a few minutes back from Nick Clark who was leading, but right on my splits and feeling great.  My dad who was crewing for me swapped my bottles and in no time I was back at it.  I ran without seeing another runner for a long time, passed through two more aid stations holding my position and enjoying the beautiful morning.  On some sections I could see a long ways ahead and would catch views of the Nicks as the moved along ahead of me.  I caught up to Nick Pedatella just before the Swallow Rocks aid station, we traded leads a couple of times before I pulled up on him some and led the way into the Big Mountain Aid.  I was still right on my splits and feeling great.  From the start I had been using some KT tape on my knee to support my patellla, it had started to fall off, so I pulled it the rest the way off and headed out with my friend Fast Evan who would be pacing me for the next 20ish miles.

Just  few miles out of the aid station I felt a twinge in my knee,  as the miles of loose rocky descent that made up the next section of trail passed the twinge started to grow into a fair amount of pain.  Nick Pedatella past us in this section looking very strong.  I started having a hard time letting my legs roll on the descents like I would normally be able to.  I pushed on to the Alexander Ridge Aid station where we were told that I was in second.  I was surprised, one of the Nicks must have gotten off course, but I was having trouble with the knee.  In desperation I borrowed some Duct Tape and attempted to mimic the support the KT tape had been doing, we lost some time but no one came by and we left still in second.  The next section was really tough, I was in a bad head space and very concerned about the knee, Evan kept me moving and we discussed a game plan of what we needed to do at Lambs Aid Station to get things back together.

Lambs Aid Station was great, I had my crew- my dad and Ty Draney, as well as some ultra running legends pitching in to get me put back together and out on the trail again.  Nick Clark came to the aid station while we were there and reported he had missed a corner and ran off course for around 30 minutes, he headed out ahead of us, but we left not too long after.  As Fast Evan and I moved through the next section I was able to climb pretty well, but had increasingly difficult time descending.  Strange things started to bug me because of the many miles of running funny while trying to protect my sore knee.  Although I was not running down very fast, I was making a very rapid mental descent into a bad headspace.  We were passed by several runners as we got near the MillCreek Aid Station.

The rockstar crew was at MillCreek to put me back together, I bode farewell to Fast Evan and left the aid with Ty Draney on our way to Brighton.  Ty did a great job keeping my mind off my knee as he told story after story of his past running adventures.  We still did ok moving up and across the flats but the downs continued to get worse.  Thoughts of quitting the race started to control my thoughts as we approached Scotts Pass, Ty explained to me that he had DNF’d in the past there, but I wasn’t quite ready to pull the plug yet.  It was all downhill after Scotts Pass, things started to get very ugly fast.  My knee started to really complain, it got to the point that I was unable to run downhill at all, even walking down was difficult.  Things got dark, both literally and figuratively.  I had hoped to be at Brighton before it got dark, I wanted to be running, I wanted to be moving fast, I wanted to not be passed by so many runners, and more than any of those I wanted my knee to stop hurting.  I told Ty that when I got to Brighton I wanted to go straight inside, sit down and DNF from the race.  He told me he would support my decision, but that I should take a bit of time to consider it.

On the way into the Lodge I avoided saying anything to my good friend Krissy Moehl who was in the parking lot getting ready to pace Darcy Africa, and I tried to avoid making eye contact with my dad on the way in.  I was ashamed that I was quitting and didn’t want to have to defend the decision.  Once in the lodge I weighed in, I was right on the weight that I started with, and then made my way back into the lodge and Ty handed me a hot chocolate.  My dad came in looking very concerned, as I struggled to hold back tears, I told him my knee was toast and that I was quitting.  He asked if he could get anything from the truck that would help and told me he was so proud of what I had done up to that point, he then looked me straight in the eyes and said “you can accomplish anything”, he then turned and went to get some warm clothes out of the truck.

This was not the Wastach 100 I had envisioned, I was on the brink of quitting, my knee hurt bad, it was dark at Brighton.  I sat in the Lodge with my head in my hands contemplating the situation.  I had come into the race with some ordered goals: #1 Have fun- I was hurting but had, had and was still having fun in the mountains with friends and family. #2- Finish the Race- well this wasn’t looking like it would happen, although I did have all night and all the next day before the cut-off. #3 Finish under 24 hours- Amazingly this was not out of the question yet, I still had plenty of time to finish the final 25 miles if I got moving soon.  An idea popped into my head- trekking poles.  If I could round up a pair I could take weight off of my knee and walk into the finish.  We started asking around, people were coming out of the woodwork to help me out.  I had some dear friends express their support, and then some Catherine Mataisz appeared with some poles she had borrowed from Rick (Scott Jaime’s father in law).  I turned and asked Ty if he had warm enough clothes to walk all night, he said yes and we went about getting ready for a long night of slogging towards Midway and the finish.

Given that I had spent quite a bit of time eating soup and fueling up in the Lodge, when we left I felt pretty good, also it was all uphill for a bit.  Frankly we hammered up Catehrine’s, near the top we started reeling in some headlamps, passed a couple of people who were having rough patches.  As long is it wasn’t down we moved pretty well.  We continued to catch runners, knowing very well that they would probably catch up again on some of the famous Wasatch descents near the end.  When we got to the Dive things got tough, it was steep, loose, and long.  My knee was less than excited about what I was forcing it to do, and at one point I resorted to walking backwards down to relieve the pain.  We rolled through the next section and hit the Plunge, again I had to walk backwards to relieve the knee, but continued making forward progress although at times I was moving backwards.  Finally we arrived at Pot Bottom, mile 93, Ty grabbed me some soup and as I slurped it he looked at me and says “two hours for seven miles and you can finish under 24 hours”.  I had not been paying attention to the time and was excited about the prospect of getting a Royal Order of the Crimson Cheetah Belt Buckle, especially considering the shape of my knee.

We immediately left the aid station, while I was still slurping down the last of the broth.  The first mile out of the aid station is all up, we took advantage of this and pushed really hard.  The next few miles were rolling and we traveled pretty well only slowing on the descents.  Finally we hit the point where it was all down hill for the final miles to the finish.  I told myself the faster you finish the sooner your knee will stop hurting and I dug into a new mindspace where I could tune out the pain, for the first time in more than ten hours we ran downhill.  Ty kept pulling ahead and when I would get close he would pull away again.  We were flying through the last bit, once we hit the pavement with less than I mile to go, emotions hit me hard.  I am glad Ty was still ahead of my so he couldn’t hear me crying.  I was so happy to be finishing, it was even sweeter that we would go under 24 hours, what an incredible moment.  I got my emotions under control as we hit the grass for the final 100 yards to the finish, Ty and I crossed the line at 23:30:12.  I got a huge hug from my dad, long time family friend Sue Thomas (who had been working at Francis Peak Aid Station and drove to the finish in the middle of the night), and ultra running legend Krissy Moehl.  We took a few quick pictures and waited for Glen Merril, Eric Storheim, and Phil Lowry to finish all under the 24 hour mark as well, then it was off to the hotel for a hot shower and some rest.

After a couple hours of sleep we got up, ate the all-you-can-eat breakfast buffet at the Homestead and spent several hours watching runners come-in.  I had the honor of being inducted into the Royal Order of the Crimson Cheetah at the awards, which was awesome.  My dad and I then snuck out and headed home.  We left quickly because my wife Tanae (who would normally be crewing for me with my dad) was at home on bed rest.  See, she was 38 weeks pregnant and at a doctor’s appointment Thursday before the race she was told she had to stay close to the hospital or she had to take her medical records with her, as she was showing signs of eminent labor.  She tried to stay relaxed all weekend  so she didn’t go into labor during the race, I had warned her that if I had to DNF to hurry home for a baby that our duaghter’s middle name would be the name of whatever aid station I finished at. (Although there were times during the race I was hoping she had gone into labor!) The threat worked and she didn’t have the baby until Monday morning a day and half after the race.  We named our 6 lb, 2 oz daughter Chlöe Skye Nelson, and are so excited to have her as an addition to our family.

I am in awe of the lessons that I learned during this year’s Wasatch, and so humbled that I, along with 180 other amazing runners were able to finish the “100 miles of Heaven and Hell” that is the Wasatch 100. For me the most important lesson- with relentless forward motion, although at times you might be moving backwards, you can achieve anything!