Selfishness or Selflessness? Crewing and Pacing in Vermont

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It all began in the Promise Land.  You know, the one in Virginia.  Ultra, myself, and Sandy Beauvis talked on our long trip down to the Promise Land 50K++ about her misadventures with her pacer in last year’s Vermont 100.  I believe it was Ultra who said you should pace Sandy at the Vermont 100 this year.  If it wasn’t him I’m sure he would have sooner or later, so we’ll leave it at that.  Pacing would be new to me, having only to worry about me in a race.  I was nervous.  To maybe be the difference in somebody’s race, a 100 mile race, good or bad, scared the ***t out of me.  I let the idea wallow without any definite answer.

Running a 100 Mile race is on every ultramarathoners mind.  Even if they don’t say it, they feel the urge to run that landmark distance if only once.  I have to say, its been on my mind.  I have been reading Ultrarunning magazine, reading Dean Karnazes books, reading other books, race reports, etc.  and have been toying with the idea.  The pressure or should I say inspiration from our group of such accomplished runners fuels the fire.  The abstractness of written words and personal accounts makes it seem like an accomplishable goal.

Fast forward two months, and Ultra gives me a call and tells me that Sandy would like to take me up on my offer to crew and pace her in Vermont this year.  I told him to send me her contact information and I would give it some thought and get back to her.  Well, I thought, I wanted to experience a 100 miler, so what better way would there be while not actually running it, than to crew and pace.  To actually run a portion of the race.   But, there came a responsibility not to be taken lightly in saying yes.  To help someone accomplish a goal that they have put a huge amount of time, effort and money into.  To crew and pace a runner is a selfless act giving your all to the runner to give them every chance to finish.  Immersing myself in the race experience to see if this was something I wanted to do is a selfish act.  I guess I could have it both ways.  I called Sandy and said yes.

Fast forward again to Friday July 17th, the day before the race.  I went over to Sandy’s to join her and her other crew person Rob who has crewed her for the last two years.  I also met two of Sandy’s friends, John Harrington and Tammy Parsons,  from New Mexico that were also running the race.  We went to Vermont and spent the rest of our day setting up camp, attending meetings, registering, meeting old friends, making new friends, eating a nice pre-race dinner, and then shooting the ***t at our campsite before getting “Shooshed” by Nipmuck Dave.  I guess it was time for bed.  Hell it wasn’t even dark yet.  I felt like I was 8 again.

The July monsoon season was in full swing and it poured all night.  My nervousness also made it a rough night of sleep.  Note, the screaming child at some god awful hour, which caused a car alarm to go off, didn’t help.  Everybody in camp was awake.  The flashlights and the “zhushing” of zippers started around 2:00 AM as the camp awoke to prepare for the 4:00 AM start.  I got up with Sandy and talked with her as she went through her prerace ritual.  I wanted to get any last minute things squared away.  John and Tammy were using drop bags since they had no crew with them, so they asked if we could help if we were there at the aid station.  Rob sleeps in and meets her at the first handler station (Mile 21.1) at about 8:30.  That extra couple of hours of sleep would come in handy later.  He has done this before.

The runners, Mr. Bimble, Loopy, Sandy, Tammy and John, and the crews, Guthrie, Ultra and myself, met in the main tent for the start.  It was still showery and foggy at the 4 AM start.  With a countdown, they were off.  Guth, Ultra and I were going to the first handler station with the rest of our crews catching up with us there.  First, we wanted to see the 100 mile horses start at 5 AM.  The horses are magnificent, beautiful animals.  The horse/riders add a pretty cool dimension to the whole race.

As we departed the start line, Loopy’s crew/family met up with us and we all headed out to Pretty House.  The first handler aid station.  Arriving at the location, there is organized chaos.  Crews parking, finding a place to set up for their runners needs with a chair, coolers, bags, etc. and then the wait.  You have an idea of when your runner will be coming in and if they are late the nerves start.  The handler stations are like a microcosm community.  Everybody is there for the same purpose.  To support your runner.  There are parents, grandparents, husbands, wives, boy and girlfriends, children, fellow runners and friends.  It was great to start talking with them to hear their story and that of their runners.  Of course, being with Ultra, he broke the ice and we met lots of wonderful people.  Everybody started cheering for everybody’s runners as they came in and joined in their triumphs at the early stage.  Later, you would be saddened as these same runners you have got to know through their supporters  would arrive beaten and broken.

Now every runner has a plan or strategy they would like to do.  So at each aid station you have an idea of what they want (Fluids, food, clothes changes), but this is very fluid and changes with the race conditions and how the runner feels.  As a funny aside, we met one young man who was crewing for his girlfriend who told us she had put what she wanted at each aid station on a set of note cards for him to follow.  Problem was that she forgot them.  Note, make note card to remember note cards next time.  Jerry and Carrie came through looking good and off they went with their crews.  Sandy came in and Rob, having now arrived fresh and rested, and I attended to her needs.  The weather had now cleared and she wanted to change out of her wet clothes and shoes.  She put on fresh socks, shoes, and shirt.  This was a change to what she wanted to do at this stage of the race, but as I said, its all fluid.  She was doing good on time and off she went.

Rob and I packed up and went to the next handler aid station at 30.1 miles.  It was sunny now and although it was beautiful in the shade, the sun was hot.  We met up with Ultra and Loopy’s crew.  Guth had already come and gone and it would be the last I saw of her till the finish.  This is where the field starts spreading out and you don’t see some people anymore, and you start seeing the people who have runners that are near your runner.  John and Tammy came through before Sandy and we helped them by getting their drop bags and attending to their needs, such as filling their bottles.  John was having a little trouble with the humidity at this time and needed a little TLC to get him going.  Its a lot drier in New Mexico and he was also battling a respiratory infection.  He was giving it his all however.  Sandy came through and also was battling the heat.  We helped her and I walked with her down the course for a little while and offered encouraging words.  Part of my job as crew.

This leapfrogging of aid stations continued all day.  It was hurry to the next handler station and then a wait for your runner.  You always rushed to the next aid station even though you usually had plenty of time.  You never know what could happen en route.  You main purpose was to support the runner.  You didn’t want to miss them.  You also had to remember to take care of yourself.  Rob lived on coffee and knew every store along the way, and sometimes a little off the way, to each aid station.  I, on the other hand, needed food and caffeine.  Sandy took care of her crew and packed a lot of food in her cooler.  I knew I had to eat and drink to fulfill my next job as pacer, so I did.  As Tom Petty would say, the waiting is the hardest part.  Some waits were long, and some shorter.  Crew tried to occupy themselves in different ways while always keeping a watchful eye on the course for their runner.  Some read, some slept, I did some crosswords, but most of all I just cheered on the incoming runners and talked with people.  I tried to nap for thirty minutes, but there is so much going on at the aid stations and I believe my nerves didn’t allow me that comfort.

We pulled into the Camp 10 Bear aid station just as Loopy had passed.  I saw Ultra and his crew and this would be the last time I would see them until the finish.  John had also gotten his second wind and was ahead of us.  Camp 10 Bear is a major aid station which the runners see at 47.2 miles and then at 70.1 where they pick up their pacers.  Sandy was doing well here time wise.  She wanted to be ahead of the cutoffs by 2 hours and actually was more than 2 hours and 10 minutes ahead.  She was having problems with her knee and but was feeling strong and determined.  I walked and talked with her a good half mile.  I know this was going to be a tough section and wanted to give her a little boost.  The next time we would see Camp 10 Bear it would be dark and I would be leaving with Sandy to accompany her to the finish.  We would see her at two more aid stations before we got back to Camp 10 Bear.

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Until now I hadn’t seen anybody drop.  I did notice less crew at the aid stations and I wasn’t sure if the runners had just spread out more or there were less of them.  Some familiar faces were gone, some continued to be seen.  Pulling into Camp 10 Bear the car in front of us stopped next to the aid station. People got out and ran around the car to open a door and slowly out came a runner who dropped.  He was walking painfully slow.  I followed him to the medical section of the aid station and I saw broken bodies in all states of brokenness.  Every cot was taken and chairs were being used to care for the, I lack better words, injured.  Runners were wrapped in space blankets and being tended to by the medical staff.  It reminded me of many scenes I have been a part of with unfortunate victims.  The real toll of a 100 mile race was extremely evident at Mile 70.1, Camp 10 Bear.

Now that it was dark, the road into Camp 10 Bear was lit by tiki torches.  All you would see is a head lamp coming in and you wouldn’t know who it was until they got real close.  Night had fallen and a chill had settled under a clear, star struck sky.  Sandy came in with 2 hours to cutoff.  We left Camp 10 Bear with 1 hour and 50 minutes to work with.

Now if you know me, I like to be prepared and I had read all I could about pacing and everything I could find on the Vermont 100 course, pacer reports, what to expect for the remainder of the course, etc.  So Sandy and I headed out of Camp 10 Bear at about 11:10 PM Saturday and I felt like I was on a first date.  I wasn’t sure what to say or do.  As soon as you come out of Camp 10 Bear you hit a large hill.  I just started encouraging her.  I could tell she was happy to have company in the cool, dark Vermont night and that it gave her a little boost.  She was now determined to finish and I was determined to help get her there.  So our pacer-runner courtship started.

Being a pacer you need to be creative, adaptive and its a lot of trial and error.  We summited the hill and had the oppurtunity to talk about the beautiful night and starry skies.  The night was getting cooler, but we were comfotable in our short sleeve shirts.  We kept on, and we actually started coming upon other runners.  We started to pass them.  This gave a big boost for her.  As a pacer, its nice to focus your runners competiveness nature on that bobbing light ahead, and push them to catch them.  On our way into the Aid Station at Mile 51, Pinky’s we passed another runner.  This guy was hobbling something fierce and asked if we had any moleskin.  We didn’t and left him at the aid station.  I don’t think they had any there either.  We never saw him again.

Now, this encounter led me to naming people with nicknames to give us a reference in later conversations.  That poor guy became known as Moleskin Man.  When the conversation turned to a place or time, it was “That’s where we left Moleskin Man” or something like that.  This led to a time that we went back and forth with “Ultra Granny”.  Going uphill in the next trail section, we where set upon by an older woman and her pacer.  I estimated this woman’s age was in her late fifties or sixties.  She was amazing on the uphills.  She powered right up them.  However, we blew by her on the downhills, where she was ultra conservative.  We went back and forth and I noticed her pacer was holding a flashlight trying to light the trail in front of “Ultra Granny”.  Until now, Sandy and I were using individual headlamps to light the way in front of her, and I was worried about the shadows my headlamp was throwing in front of her since I was trailing her at that time.  I now adapted and removed my headlamp and used it as a flashlight and lit up the trail in front of Sandy to give her a longer view of the trail and what was coming up.  It seemed to work well and I did my best to keep the trail lit.  I had to switch hands and hold the light extended.  I also had to pick my feet up higher and stumble a lot because I was basically running in the dark.

We hit a dirt road section and that’s the last we saw of “Ultra Granny”.  It was now getting to be about 2 AM and was getting chillingly cold.  With my head lamp, I now saw some reflexite dancing in the distance.  I knew it was a runner or runners, but the reflexite was going back and forth across the road. Just as I brought my attention back to Sandy and was going to tell her about the reflections, she veered away from me and almost fell.  She caught herself, and I asked are you okay and if she had tripped, but she was sleeping.  I grabbed her by her water bottle belt and yelled at her to wake her up.  I talked with her to keep her awake and kept urging her forward.  Her legs kept going and with out my constant bantering she would have stopped and curled up there.  I really know now where the term “Zombie Runner” comes from.  The cold kept her awake.  She complained it was cold.  She later said if she was a little warmer, she would have just went to sleep.  I now needed to focus her on something.  “Lets catch the reflexite” I said to myself.  I supported her around her back with my fingers applying “gentle” persuasion to her ribs and drill sergeanted her forward to catch the reflexite.  We started to catch up.  As we got closer I noticed the reflexite belonged to two runners I had been seeing all through the day.  It was a younger man and woman who we had dubbed “Team Ninja” earlier in the day, because they were dressed all in black and always together.  They were also falling asleep on their feet and would sway all the way across the road back and forth.  It was the oddest thing to see.  First the dancing reflexite and trying to figure what it was, and then realizing it was two humans fighting to stay awake and still moving forward.  We caught up to them and I asked if they were okay.  Of course they said they were okay and they awakened a little at the surprise of us appearing.  We moved on ahead of “Team Ninja”.  I am not sure what happened to them but I did see in the results a man and woman from the same town had finished before the cut off.  I hope it was them.

Now another aside.  I know there are different opinions of pacers, but experiencing what I did.  I think that if you are going to be out in the wee hours of the morning, a pacer may be a good safety item.  I was surprised at how many vehicles, that weren’t race related, were on the road at that time of night.  Also, a person alone in that state could hurt themselves badly and there may be no one around to help them or to get help.  I know you may say its part of the experience, but my fatherly instincts were in high gear and I was worried for Team Ninja or others who may get hit by a vehicle, who’s driver’s state may be questionable.  I am really surprised this safety concern has not come up.  Anyway.

After passing “Team Ninja”.  Sandy stopped and had half of a Three Musketeers bar.  The sugar seemed to kick in and she had a nice jolt and we started moving again with some alert comprehension.  By this point we were approaching the point were Sandy had dropped last year.  There is a point on the course, about Mile 83, where the course is about 200 yards from the finish line, just over a small rise.  You can’t see it, but if you know the course, you know its there.  Sandy passed that mental hurtle and determined now more than ever to finish.  We had one more aid station and then a cut-off time aid station at Bill’s at Mile 88.6.  I was getting concerned about the time.  I knew if we made the cut-off at Bills we would finish.  We had eaten up some time with the zombie running and I urged her on.  We stopped briefly at the Cow Shed aid station to thank the volunteers for being there at 4 AM and moved quickly on.  As we made our way to Bill’s the sun started coming up and we started coming upon more runners.  Two things that kept a runner’s spirits up and give them that continuing energy.   I was excited about catching runners.  We pushed hard to Bill’s, and actually caught Rob still sleeping in his car.  He had just shut his alarm and saw us coming down the road.  I don’t remember exactly, but we got into Bill’s about 5:20AM.  Our buffer to cut-off was now only 1 hour and 25 minutes.

We moved out of Bill’s and ran through some real trail, across hayfields, and then back onto dirt roads.  These roads had some very steep hills, both up and down.  As the sun came up it warmth became uncomfortable and its light blinding.  Leaving the Keating’s aid station at Mile 92, I made a mental pacer error.  With the sun low in the sky and shielding my eyes, I missed a marker for a left turn.  We traveled uphill for about 100 feet before Steve Pero, who was pacing another runner, yelled and corrected us.  We came back down and made the correct turn.  We saw the plates now were located in the weeds right were the rising sun was.  It was an easy mistake to make, but that was no excuse on my part.  Part of my duties is to make sure we stayed on course and not make the runner go any further than they have to.  We had made it through the difficulty of the night and my mental error had caused my runner to go an unnecessary additional distance.  This made me feel extremely bad at the time seeing how my runner was suffering and I had added to it.  I still feel bad about making such a stupid error.

So we just now have to keep grinding along.  As we approached Polly’s aid station at Mile 95.5 we came upon Forrest and Suds along a forest trail.  It was nice for me to see them and this encounter gave Sandy a big smile and a big boost.  It is always nice to see people come out in support of you.  Thanks guys, it was nice to see you.  We arrived at Polly’s.  4.5 miles to go.  Time’s getting short.  Let’s go.

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On this section, I noticed that whenever Sandy would talk with me she would slow up and alter her pace.  I told her no more talking unless it was needed.  I would banter on, but she was not to talk.  It was funny how the effort to talk slowed her pace.  As you approach the finish you go off a dirt road into trails.  Finally a sign said “1 Mile to Finish”.  We started up and over a ridge and then it was all downhill.  We were moving along and then the next sign came up “1/2 Mile to Finish”.  As we approached the finish we came close to passing two more runners.  We came out of the woods and the finish line was right there.  She crossed in 29 Hours and 24 Minutes.  As a pacer I veered off and went around the finish line.  I had not run the 100 miles, I didn’t earn the right to cross the finish line.  I don’t know if thats a rule or something, but I thought it was a good idea.

I had just traveled 30 miles in 10 1/2 hours tending to my runner’s needs, been awake and crewing for about 32 hours and now I still had to strike camp.  That’s the worse.  I don’t know if that was part of the deal.  With Robs help, it went fast.  Thank goodness for coffee. Rob drove home as Sandy and I went comatose.

So, do I want to do a 100 miler?  Well, shortly after the finish, Mr. Bimble asked me “Does that make me want to do one?”  He was noticably surprised when I said “Actually, its the opposite.  It actually convinced me its not for me”.  I am not going to say never, but its not in me right now.  During the racer’s brief, they said that the 100 horse riders hold the runners in “awe”.  I must say that I agree with them.  I hold them in awe also and they are special people.  Or maybe there is something “wrong” with these people.  You need to be the judge of that for yourself.