Joe Prusaitis

The sand was warm, the sun bright, the water cool, and we weren’t even close to a beach. I traded in my swim trucks for running shorts, suntan lotion for Vaseline. Burgers & fries for GU & PowerBars. The wind in the trees replaced the wind & the waves. Oh yea, it was the Rocky Racoon 100 mile trail run, through the pleasant rolling hills and trails of Huntsville State Park. Well, Sand, water, and heat makes for a great day at the beach, but it sure made a mess of my feet after some couple dozen miles of running. There were only about a hundred of us frolicking under the trees as we repeated five identical 20 mile loops, through a few bogs, and some sand, and three nauseating out and backs that I really didn’t care much for, after the first repeat. The course was fairly easy if not a bit confusing at first, but after one loop, I had it memorized. By loop five, it was burnt into my brain... and my dreams. Not unlike tumbling out of bed and falling forever to never ever hit the floor, I ran, walked, and danced through an endless bog, never to reach the other side. Really they weren’t that long or deep, I just get stupid about it after awhile and it feels like it lasts longer than it really did.

I live in Austin, but have traveled the States these past few years running an odd variety of ultras, so it seemed odd for me to drive just 3 hours from home and hardly recognize a soul at a local event. One of the few people running I knew was Earl, the Canadian from Oklahoma, and we started together. We knew the course was fast and tried to keep from going out too quickly, walking all the uphills from the git go. Regardless of what we felt and what we tried, we still did the first loop much too fast, covering the first 20 miles in 3:15 and well under a 20 hour finish pace. We knew that wasn’t going to happen, so we tried even harder to rein ourselves back the next loop and still did a 3:45 by just horsing around more than anything else. I changed some clothes before going out on the third loop and was just starting to have some problems with my stomach. It was grumbling a bit and feeling like I knew I was just coming into some trouble. I told Earl to go on ahead. I wanted to walk a bit. I thought it would help if I just cooled down some and chilled out. By now, it was mid-day and all the drinks offered on the course were lukewarm. Yuk! They put ice in your drinks for you, but the ice never had time to cool your drink before it was gone. They were doing as much as they could, but it was a loosing situation for me. I had a cooler in my truck at the big turn-around point and loaded my bottle with ice cold Gatorade once on each loop, but this tasted so damned good and quickly gone that I was back to the lukewarm brew in quick time.

The heat, humidity, and exertion caused my body to sweat like a big dog, so I applied Vaseline to my arms and legs to avoid chaffing. Well, this worked just fine until the sand found it’s way into the Vaseline. I stopped at my truck after each loop and wiped it all off, but before the next loop was done, I was coated again. Argh! Here we go round the sand pit again. It didn’t seem like there was that much sand, but there it was again and again. I didn’t wear gaiters because the Montrail running shoes I wore were a great fit and they kept the rocks and twigs out of my shoes, but I never even thought what the sand would do to my feet. I’ve never had blisters on the souls before and I didn’t realize I had them until I was done. So, it wasn’t like it slowed me down much... until after the race, and then I was hobbled like a tired old man.

It really seemed like such a nice day as we ran and talked, telling jokes, and laughing. We were enjoying the trail as the day passed into night. The well worn trail I had mapped out through the bogs disappeared in the dark. My feet sank deeper and I got muddier in the dark just because I could no longer make out the best possible route. I’m a bit of a adventurer, so I didn’t mind this new twist so much, choosing to see the humor in it. Matter of fact, most everyone else out there had the same attitude about it. The only section that wore on us all was the long out and back after the 2nd aid station. I’m guessing that it’s just over four miles, in a fairly strait line, on a roller coaster of hills, but everyone I passed going out would say if asked that ‘it’s too far to think about’, and coming back would ask ‘how far’ It was a great trail to run, but the out and back chewed on your brain after a few repeats. Also, by dark I was into a fast forced march. My stomach got tipsy every time I ran and after tossing my guts for the third time, I resigned myself to walking the remainder of the race. I managed a good clip doing so, passing many of those who alternated running and walking. As long as I didn’t run, my stomach stayed down and I felt good to go. My buddies Neil and Antje crewed for me on the first three loops and then Phil paced with me on my final loop. Phil’s a pretty damned fast guy and I warned him this was going to be a 20 mile walk, but he was fine with that, and figured he wouldn’t mind going on a hike through the woods with a friend. I think he enjoyed the hike and I know he took some pleasure in helping me get in under the 24 hour window. Phil’s quite competitive, so it gave him something to shoot for. I had mentally recorded my splits for the last few sections while I was walking, so I knew I had to just continue my walking pace to make the cut. Lots of buckle heads went rushing by us the last few miles, but I knew where we were and refused to be sucked into the mad rush. We walked in with a few minutes to spare and lots of smiles.

The aid stations had some of the coolest people I have ever had the pleasure of meeting, and as my stomach cratered and I walked more, I had more time to stop and visit, with the excuse of resting my bones. Mickey, give these folks a raise! I loved em. I shook hands with many of them on my last loop. I wanted to do more to say thanks, but all I had were sand and blisters, and many of them already had their own. I came in thinking this was an easy course and a fast time. I left thinking this was still a hundred miles and on any given day, things may work well or maybe they won’t. Rocky Racoon was a good race and I enjoyed it for what it was... different than the others and unique in it’s own way. Lots of people ran a fast time this weekend, but I was not one of them. ‘Tis ok with me.