The wind was blowing hard and cold in Palo Duro Canyon on October 25th. It was still too dark to see the trail at the scheduled 7:30am start and we were delayed a few minutes because of it. As cold and nasty as it was, everyone seemed to be rather upbeat as we huddled in groups near the start. We were worried about the weather in Amarillo prior to leaving Austin and I had bought Joyce some good all-weather running gear. She has Reanauds Disease and loses blood flow in her extremities if they get too cold. We had to keep her hands and feet warm or she could be in trouble. We both wore long winter tights and Coolmax shirts, ear covers, hats, and gloves and Joyce even had heater packs inside of her gloves and wore a waterproof coolmax jacket. Of the 59 starters, six of us had come up from Austin. Joyce and Glenn were both doing their first 50. This being as much a vacation as it was a run, I had promised to spend the day with Joyce. Hosni Highighian, Bob Blomquist, and David Berdis were also here for the 50. There were also a handful of Austinites up for the 25 miler.

As soon as a little light peeked over the rim of the canyon, Bob Givens (one of the Race Directors) called for the start, and we were off. The run started slowly as ultras do, moving up the road and onto the Sunshine Trail. Six of us from Austin started out together and ran this beginning section along the trail in a pace line. I suppose with the wind blowing so hard, you could call this drafting. Bob and David were just out in front of us and Charles of Arlington fell in right behind us. The Sunshine Trail was only a mile long and then we were back onto the street for another mile. Glenn, David, and Bob pushed ahead of us uphill into the wind. Joyce and I stopped at the first station for a coke and bite to eat as Hosni skipped on past the station onto the rugged Capitol Peak Mountain Bike Trail for the first 3-mile loop. We had two loops in the middle of each 12.5 mile section and they both brought us back to the same point where we started the loop. Joyce and I followed shortly and soon caught Hosni and Gary from Arizona, and we all finished this loop together back at the street. We were only on the street for a hundred yards or so and then onto Lighthouse Trail for a mile leading up to the GSL (Givens, Spicer, & Lowry) Trail. This trail would take us to the turnaround point and then back again in reverse direction. After the sun finally lifted and we could see how beautiful the Canyon was with it's multi-colored walls and odd rock formations. Stunted and gnarled mesquite and juniper trees grew in groves all over the canyon floor. The trail offered us a variety of surfaces to run on. Short rugged climbs and descents that felt like a rollercoaster with its twisting ups and downs, flat and fast sections wore down smooth that carried us over ridges and crests and exposed us to the full blast from the wind (which we later heard had occasionally exceeded 50 mph), and half-a-dozen tiny little bridges over the deep crevices and narrow creeks, and occasionally down into the dry creek beds. Everything was colored dark with red dirt. The dynamics of each new canyon and the direction we ran forced the wind to attack us from different directions, and yet there were pockets where the air was calm.

It had rained the night before and parts of the trail early in the day were still nasty beds of mud, impossible to pass through without adding weight and height to your shoes. On one muddy stretch of trail I attempted to stride over a bump and missed, crashing heavily in an unflattering face-plant. Joyce gave me 3 points for stupidity but a 9 for style, which included a scream when my left knee found a rock. This a stupid game we play where we rate each other when we fall. This includes style, grace, position, and voice dynamics. You would think we do this a lot! Following the GSL trail toward Cottonwood Flats, we ran directly into the wind. I had to lean forward and use my quads to shove my body forward. Joyce was just in front of me and appeared to be running in place just like a roadrunner cartoon. My eyes were wet with tears from the hard wind and my exposed skin stung from the small missiles that lifted from the ground and hit my face. I had to run (walk) with my hands held in front of my face to protect my eyes. These weren't short intermittent wind gusts, but long constants. You could see them approaching as trees and bushes bent in unison like waves of water. Later, going the opposite way with the wind at my back, I couldn't stop if I wanted to. It shoved me forward as each stride felt more like a leap. Joyce yelled at me from behind once and I tried to stop, but it took more energy to stop than it did to run forward. The next aid station was just beyond Cottonwood Flats at the crossroads, and marked the beginning of the next 2-mile loop up Little Fox Canyon Trail. It began to sleet and then snow while we ran. It had been a long time since I had run in the snow and I loved the thought of it, but the wind wouldn't allow the snow to rest on the ground as it swirled around and slammed into us. This section of trail was a quick little teaser, before we came back to the crossroads aid station and the real fun started. We turned left at the station for a 3-mile adventure into the most rugged and spectacular section of the entire trail near Red Star Ridge and Hully Gully. The trail hugged the cliff walls and the few occasional flat spots were usually dominated by a single large bolder that forced the trail around it on the uphill side. Smarter than going under it - huh? And the wind demons liked it in here too, threatening to lift us from the trail and toss us off the side. At the turnaround point we took a short break and then went back the way we came. I started having a problem with my knee on the way back and it sure didn’t feel too good. Like so many runners, I planned to run through the pain. Having run through so many minor pains in the past, I knew that most of the aches usually can be run right out of your system and I was confident that this one, like all the others, would pass also.

A half hour after we started, the 25 milers were set loose on the same course for a single loop. The leader went past us looking fast and cold, wearing shorts and a singlet. There were not many who attempted to run in less than winter wear this morning as hypothermia hunted them down unmercifully. Joyce and I made the return trip feeling more confidant about the course now that we had run it once, but I was struggling with my knee and had to slow down on the descents as well as the ascents. Joyce went into the start/stop turnaround ahead of me so she would have time to use the bathroom, thinking that I would want to hurry in and out. So far, we were doing great with a 4:30 time for 25 miles. Mitch and Neil both finished their 25 mile run as we were starting back out again. It was good to see our ultra running friends from Dallas that Joyce and I had met during our summer adventures. Going uphill into the wind on the road back to the first aid station was unbelievable. We actually went faster and stayed warmer by turning around and walking backwards. My gloves had gotten wet during the first loop, so I had to leave them, and now my hands were starting to freeze. Diane who was crewing for Glenn lent me her gloves at this station and saved me. Thanks Diane. Early on in the second loop I have to say that I started to wonder, when it got so that I couldn't put any weight on my left leg. I had slowed to a constant walk by now and Joyce, starting to worry about me, asked if I wanted to continue. We were only a mile from our truck. I knew that she would do well and I was convinced I could get through this. I insisted we continue. But Joyce’s hands and feet were starting to get cold from all the walking and although she wanted to do this whole adventure with me, she had to start running just to stay warm. She pushed on ahead alone, while I continued to walk. I wanted so much for her to have a good run on her first 50 miler and I felt bad for not being able to support her as I had promised.

No, I never once doubted if I could do it, but I did start to think about the cutoff times. They would pull me from the course if I didn’t start to make better time soon. Bob Blomquist had just taught me a walking technique called the lock-step used to walk uphill fast while still conserving your quads. Although I didn’t think I would get a chance to use it in this run, I found it worked perfectly for my needs at this time. I limped forward with this lock-step in an odd fashion with my right leg working, then skipping across on my left leg quickly, and back to my right leg. I must have looked hilarious as most of the trailing runners slowly caught and passed me as I limped on. They were all very encouraging as they offered their assistance and wished me luck as each passed and I fell further and further behind. The old folks, their grandkids, and toddlers. They all passed me. I watched as a few of the older runners passed me easily, taking little tiny steps, and I tried this too. I found that if I took small enough steps I could cut down the time and weight on my left leg and I could carry on much quicker and easier this way, even pushing uphill. So I ran behind the old guys with little tiny baby steps and felt great because I was no longer limp walking.

There were so many loops, out-and-backs, and repeats that we all could constantly keep track of each other during the run. We watched Glenn with amazement as he held his pace and the others fell off or dropped out. I stopped to talk to him at the crossroads when he had 8 and I had 18 to go. He was still pretty quiet and reserved but would eventually finish 2nd overall in 7:43. It was fun to watch as Hosni ran the first loop easy, and then surged up through the field on the 2nd loop to capture 3rd overall and 1st woman in a new course record of 8:04. Bob maintained his great sense of humor while finishing 7th overall in 8:43. I think he thought he was a duck while it was snowing. David survived a lull in the first loop to come on strong and finish in 9:28. Joyce ran a great 2nd loop to finish with a roaring 9:59. Well, I was experimenting with many different methods of walking while most of my partners were running and discussing victories and tragedies with their own personal demons. The ones who rode their backs and whispered in their ears.

About ten miles out, my knee finally felt good enough to carry my weight and I began to really run again. Many of the folks who had wished me well earlier, were cheering me on with generous encouragement as I sprinted past them. Hot damn, it felt good to really run again. This was what I was after. Not the finish line or the finish time. Not the medals or buckles. Nothing other than the pure joy of running. My reinstalled energy was exhilarating, but I still worried about my knee quitting on me again. Regardless, I took it all the way in, running up hills and down. After all, I was rested from so much walking and had an abundance of energy. Joyce was not far in front of me and I heard a load cheer off in the distance as I pushed in just ten minutes back. I grinned - knowing it was Joyce who had just finished. Soon after, I surged across the finish and collapsed into the arms of my friends. I was one of the last of the Austin crowd to finish and the whole gang was there waiting for me.

The whole Palo Duro experience was wonderful. The weather was cold but not so extreme that we were miserable. We were comfortable in our winter gear and the wind was the only real handicap. The trail was marked well enough that none of us ever wandered off course and the volunteers were friendly and energetic. Plenty of food and drink were available at the aid stations which were all spaced about 3 miles apart. Great location! Palo Duro Canyon was worth the trip.

joe prusaitis