2002 Cascade Crest Classic 100 Mile Endurance Run

The Challenge Beyond the Finish Line

Robin Fry

 

 

I ran in from the last aid station, about 2.5 miles, at the fastest pace I had maintained for any period throughout the run. I think I hit 9 minute miles on this stretch, and I remember thinking, “where has it been?”, for I had struggled greatly for too many hours and most of the miles. Immediately upon crossing the finish line, I attacked Randy Gerhke with a vengeance. Actually, I attacked him with an empty water bottle and some since forgotten profanities. It was all in jest, Randy. I thoroughly enjoyed every bit of your little course.  Yeah, that’s the ticket…. But, truly, I have never done an event with such attentive and helpful volunteers. Perhaps, because I have usually, in my longer events, relied largely on my family as my crew people, volunteers were not previously as essential to me. Randy said all of the volunteers are his friends. He is blessed to have so many capable and helpful friends!

 

I finished the CCC 100 mile with much joy, and relief. I had a few brief hours to relax, because I faced a 450-mile drive to Boise, begun at 4:00 AM on Monday, to make a 2:15 PM (Mountain Time) flight to Ohio. I got my gear packed up and crashed at 11:30 PM (Pacific).  My friend Del Ruckle, who finished the run shortly after me, and I began our drive and left the Cascades under the light of a very bright, almost full moon.

 

The drive to Boise was somewhat fast, out of necessity. Del left from a gas station, bound for a motel then a flight home on Tuesday. I returned my rental and entered the airport just one hour before departure time. A first-class passenger (with third-class manners) jumped in front of me and caught me unprepared to object. I thought I had plenty of time.  I arrived at security and was briefly detained, then cleared, after zippers on my pants pockets beeped. I quickly devoured a sandwich and was rushing to my gate when I heard my name paged to report there. I was in sight of the gate and waved to the attendant.

 

As the attendant scolded me, in jest, a security officer asked me to step aside.  Again I was “wanded’, and patted down. My carry-on was inspected, and the purple-heart wood box raised some suspicion. The officer could not open it. I opened the box and answered a few questions brought on by the sight of the beautiful brass buckle: 100 Miles. Not just 100 Miles—O-N-E  H-U-N-D-R-E-D M-I-L-E-S of mountains, rocks, lakes, streams, sky, clouds, smiles, and, yes, blood, sweat, and tears.  And BLISTERS.  The officer asked if I could remove my shoes. “Yes”, I replied, “but it won’t be (or smell) pretty!” Fortunately, I had showered, and this prevented my being charged with assault on a federal officer with an olfactory weapon. I  replaced my shoes, with a groan and a grimace.

 

I arrived in Columbus without further incident, briefly visited my parent’s home just north of the city, and drove home to Ashland, arriving at 1:30 AM (Eastern Time). I was due at work less than 7 hours later. I was beginning to feel the strain.

 

During the next few days, disappointment settled in and I began to analyze my run. What had amazed me, through the later miles and even during the long drive to Boise and the flight home, was the total absence of any muscle soreness! While I did have some brief low-energy periods during the run, quickly resolved with food and drink, what had slowed me down were blisters, lots of blisters. This was new and unexpected for me.

I have rarely required any attention to my feet during a run, not even during my three 200

Mile runs or the 256-mile Run Across Ohio.

 

I had tried to train well for this run, with so little hilly terrain to chose from in Ohio.

I had followed long runs and sometimes, stressful workdays, with hard hill repetitions

In the Mohican River Gorge. I would carve out workouts of 15 miles with over 4,000 feet of climb and descent on the two walls of the 300-some foot gorge above the covered bridge. Then I was lucky enough to have two weeks to tune up in the Sawtooth and Pioneer Mountains near Stanley and Ketchum, Idaho (some real elevation changes and altitude!) and a final, short pre-race run at Mt. Rainier. Awesome!

 

So now, the disappointment comes from knowing that I was ready (I could feel it in my legs, during and after the run), but something so basic and unexpected, and so debilitating as extremely sore feet almost brought me down.

 

I enjoyed this, my hardest one hundred mile run, in spite of the trials and the pain. I enjoyed the company of a fine friend during the last fort-five miles, as Mark Bodamer’s gentle humor and careful motivational prodding helped keep me from losing my focus.

I just read tonight that Geri Kilgariff compared the terrain here to a Yes album cover.

How apt a description I thought, because I certainly felt “Close To The Edge”.

 

During my most anguished period of this run, I was truly thinking it might be time for me to retire from ultras, and already that notion seems almost comical. I hope I can be back in Easton next August.

 

“…In and around the lake,

      Mountains come out of the sky

      And they stand there….”

 

“…Ten true summers, we’ll be there

      and laughing too…”

 

Whewww,  finally lightening up. Next, off to Olander Park,for the USA 24 Hour Run National Championships in two weeks, if the feet have healed!