Vermont 100

What can I say except, what a weekend. It flew by, one minute we were sitting eating breakfast on the way up ( a particularly nasty bowl of dry oatmeal, I might add) and next I’m nursing sore feet on the 3 hour drive home.

In between those moments, there were laughs, a few tears and many memories that will remain for a long time to come. Of the four runners who set out at 4 am on Saturday morning each one returned to the finish with stories to tell. Hopefully, they will be inspired to tell some of those tales here in the days to come (that was an unsubtle hint, in case they hadn’t noticed).

After setting up camp on Friday, we lazed around listen to weather warnings on the radio that reported severe thunder storms to the south east of us. The pre-race brief went on far too long and the dinner almost became a fiasco when they ran out of food with a long line still waiting. But everyone seemed to get fed within our ranks and then it was off to bed after a glass of red wine (nice touch Iggy) and a reading compliments of Forrest.

Around 2 am a brief rain shower damped the dust and the hopes were high as we trooped down to the start and a pre-race coffee. Almost bang on 4 (start time) the rain returned, but eased almost as quickly and we were off.

The Vermont 100 is sometimes described as an ‘easy 100’. At the briefing it was hinted that the more accurate description is ‘easier 100’. I don’t think either is true, how can 100 miles be easy?

The route begins with a gentle down slope on a dirt road and with adrenaline and confidence high it is easy to go too quick. The hills, not gentle undulations, more like moderate elevations soon arrive and then it is a merry roller coaster all the way. Heat and humidity played their part, if you didn’t eat and drink regularly it would quickly take it’s toll. You are weighed before the race and three times during, if you show signs of dehydration, you are rested to hydrate or even pulled without question for safety reasons.

Shortly after midday, rain cooled the air, thunder and lightening sharpened the senses and hail forced one or two to take cover. But still the runners pressed on. My pace was comfortable and felt easy, the downhills were taking their toll but I felt like I was having fun. That changed a little later. Word from Mayor, Downhill and Spuds was positive, they were make progress and dealing with the conditions. The Camp 10 Bear aid station is a central hub of the race. You pass through it twice and are weighed each time. I was 5 pounds down going out (from my start weight) and just 2 on the return.

I was forcing fluids in without fail every 15 minutes, it was hot and very humid. Just before leaving for the second time Spuds tapped me on the shoulder, he had been struggling with nausea but was smiling and feeling a little better.

As the miles rolled on my quads stiffened and blisters started to form on the balls of my feet – the result of the downs combined with sweat and damp feet. By mile 70, my quads felt as hard as nails and running was painful so I power walked nearly all the remaining miles to the finish.

At an aid station close to home Guthrie and Iggy said Mayor was doing well, word from the others was hampered by poor cell coverage. I was now motivated by three things;

1. I’d been teasing the Mayor I’d kick his butt at Vermont, despite the discomfort, I was going to do everything possible to make it hard for him to overtake me!
2. My quads and right knee were getting stiff and the thought of Leadville lingered in the back of my mind, but to drop at VT meant no Leadville.
3. If I didn’t finish VT, the thought of all those lost dollars was just too much to bear – I kept pressing on!

In the dark about 15 miles from the finish, I heard two runners approach, one voice sounded familiar! I pushed as hard as I could as they got closer, it was wasn’t who I thought it was! 🙂 Riders passed at regular intervals, this 100 miler’s horse is a neat feature of the event. One rider came along side, it was around 11 pm and we chatted, she was from Florida and both horse and rider were doing their first 100. I ask how the horse was doing. “Great” she replied, “nothing seems to scare him” and with that he bucked at the sound of a shorting electrical cable (probably damaged by the earlier storm) on a nearby building. The horse reared and I side stepped quickly to the side as fast as my stiff legs allowed. The rider tried several times to move her mount forward and in the end had to dismount and walk him (reluctantly) on. They finished just a few minutes ahead of me.

The race finishes at the edge of a field, you burst out of the trees into lights, applause and a welcome seat. It is amazing just how great a simple chair can feel! My feet were really sore and I desperately wanted to lie down but Guth said a storm during the day had blown down several tents, including one of ours. We hiked up to the camp (yes, I said ‘up’) and rescued the shelter that had been BS Central the night before. It was nicely bent and I’m not sure if it will be serviceable again. Guthrie and I were just about to crawl into our tent when the Giglio Seniors and Iggy arrived. They were high on the moment and looking forward to see the Mayor finish. We would have loved to watched as well, but fatigue was now a pressing priority I’m afraid.

By the time my head poked out into the daylight everyone was back. That was when Spuds broke the news he had stopped at mile 89 on medical advice because of blisters. The soles of his feet looked like pale chopped liver. With onions and a bottle of Chianti, they could have passed for a psychopath’s dinner as long as the odour didn’t put them off! It was disappointing, but Spuds, was positive about his adventure – I wonder if they will be a next time! The Mayor popped out of his tent with an expression of ‘who am I, what am I doing here?’, he had finished his first 100. If there are any more in his future, they won’t feel quite like this – enjoy the moment, Frank.

Ultra and Downhill called by refreshed form their B&B breakfast and a hot shower (wimps!) and Downhill expressed a little disappointment at not finishing under 24 hours. She shouldn’t be disheartened, her time was quicker than her previous finish at Vermont and since then the course has added hills.

So the VT100 is consigned to the history books, running is all about the next race after all. You can’t close though without a word of gratitude to the crews who provided support on the day and good wishes sent from home. For me Guthrie is a rock at these events, she has got the routine off to a fine art and her presence makes all the difference. Chipper suffered a minor wardrobe malfunction but still kept her man going. Iggy took tons of pictures and Mrs. Mayor almost got over her camping claustrophobia. Frank (senior) was always willing to lend a hand while Ultra supported Downhill on the up hills. The classic quote of the weekend was near the finish and Downhill knowing Ultra was wearing his GPS said; “I know you know how far it is, tell how far it really is!” Is it possible he was being economical with the facts at this point!