My plan was to have 'no plan'. Henry suggested I leave my watch and I thought it was a good idea, seeing as how I had no idea what kind of shape I was in. Why complicate things? When I do find my watch, out of habit, I just put in on as I always do. But just before the race starts, I switch it over to the altimeter mode. What the hell, lets see how high I can get.

I keep my long shirt on until the race starts, but pull it off and run off road just to drop it with my gear. This minor diversion separates me from the others immediately. I feel comfortable right from the start and just stay on the same pace for a good long time. Even when we hit the first single track off the Interpretive Center. The Chinquapin Trail is a muddy mess, and as we all like to do... just plow right through the middle of the muck. The jeep road comes much too quickly as I'm not walking at all, the pace smooth and easy. Instead of slowing my pace to match those who block my path, I'd cut through the trees instead. I don't want to slow the momentum of this way too easy glide. I know I can't hold it but I'd like to ride it while it works.

The leaders fly past going back the other way on the jeep road and then, so does Meredith. She yells as she goes by 'I'm not running too smart'. And then I turn also and see everybody else as we pass each other. High five's, smiles, and lots of jolly good laughs roll over us all. They either laugh at my bright Clifton shorts or instruct me to go catch Mer! Nope, Sorry. No chasing today, just following my moods and taking what I get.

Robert, Carey, and Jim are right behind me. Then Henry and Mark. The whole gang has gone out fast. Are they all as insane as me? The entire troop is on the jeep road. I decide to skip every aid station that I can. I have a single water bottle, and pockets full of HammerGel and sodium capsules. At my normal too fast speed, I'll turn this 12.5 mile loop under 2 hours, so I figure that one Hammer every half hour will keep me fueled. Without the watch, I'm only guessing, and hope for the best. A long sticker vine wraps around my ankle and tears the skin as it whips off. I feel the sting but not for long as the mud coats and soothes it over.

Amy's Crossing is madness with people standing all over, clogging up the intersection. I barely avoid a collision as I sprint through the humanity. The downhill leading into this mess provides enough momentum for me to knock a hippo off her feet if I should find one in the middle of this muddle. Luckily, I pass through to the other side and onto the next single track.

Have I mentioned yet that I love single track. I was going too fast already but the single track always gets me buzzed up another gear. Winter in Texas is like Fall everywhere else. Leaves are everywhere but most especially on all the roots. The sneaky little devils hide under a groundcover of multicolored leaves, waiting to snag and throw me down. For now I'm wary, high steeping over them all. Only a mile from Amy's to the Dam. Over the hump onto the muddy dam road then down to the aid station. I check my water and realize I'm not drinking enough. It's still full. I take a slug and make the turn. Down and around the dam runoff. The shaded glen is pretty and cool. Over the bridge and back up the other side onto the levee.

From the only perfectly flat piece of trail on the course, you can see the finish area on the other side of Lake Raven. My pace holds steady as I roll into the best part of the entire loop. With roots galore on every ascent and descent, I spring along like a Billy goat. Smile fixed firmly in place, I buzz past one after another until I find myself right behind Mer and another fellow. They don't know I'm there, so I slow down for the first time and just wait. I'm just playing, waiting to see how long before they notice me. It takes minutes, and when they find me, I go past them both. I lose the fellow but Mer hooks on. The long bridges come next and are always fun. Can't help but look for alligators. The swampy muck leading into 174 is real messy today.

I lose Mer at the station as she stops. I make the turn, avoiding the tables and the people gathered around them. Up the short root covered hill, I keep on going, holding the stride that still remains strong and comfortable. Mer catches me before the big right turn and we continue on together. We find ourselves in the thick of the 50km runners by the hundreds. They fill the trail, coming and going. I either find room to get around them or go off trail through the brush and trees. I'd rather do that than loose my precious momentum. Some give us room but most don't see us coming until we're past them. I assume Mer is right behind me but I really don't know. Eventually I loose her in the throng, entering the Interpretive Center area alone. It's all a blur of people, faces, and voices on into the turn around and back to my gear in the tent. Mer comes in as I stop to reload.

Into my pockets go 4 more Hammers and another pack of Sodium capsules. I refill my water bottle and slug down half a large Gatorade as Mer runs by and yells for me to come on. I catch her soon after the turn onto the Crowded Mile. Now we're part of the 50km runners too. Most of the 50 milers at this point are traveling much faster than the 50km runners. Like oil and water, our stream blends with theirs, moving at different speeds. I can pick out who's in each group by seeing who's passing and who's being passed. My pace still hasn't changed yet, but now it feels like I'm flying even faster in reference.

We make the turn at the jeep road where the crowd fills the intersection. It has all the look of a music festival. We slide through and move up the hill with out stopping. The jeep road us full. People are going in both directions in mass. Somebody falls down and a group helps her up, people are singing Christmas songs, some are walking, some are running, at the mall with all the other Christmas shoppers. We make the turn quickly and start back. The whole jeep road is a roller of hills but it seems more downhill coming back. I'm daydreaming as I weave through the crowds for a good long ways before I realize Mer is gone. I turn to look but I can't see her for the mass of faces and bodies.

I sprint down off the last hump back through Amy's once again and make the turn onto the 50 mile single track turn. I am alone. Everybody else goes strait up the 50km jeep road. Wow. This is surreal. So peaceful. Quiet. I finally stop for a moment to listen. but still no Mer. I take the opportunity to relieve myself. I look again and then go, back quickly to the same pace. It comes easily and I let it. A mile to the Dam and this time when I check, the water in my bottle is half full. Better but still not enough, and still no reason to stop. I turn and keep going. Down the runoff, the bridge, the levee and gone. I daydream for a bit, alone, lost in my thoughts, I pay no mind at all, barely noting the long bridges and the swampy muck leading into 174.

The noise and mayhem wakes me as I make the turn at 174, I'm once again completely aware of my surroundings and none too soon. Before I complete the first short climb, a root grabs my foot and throws me down hard. A few minutes later again. My legs must be drooping, feet dragging. Weariness must be settling in as the root clearing high step is gone. This is not good. The little bastards will have their way with me now. By the time I clear The Interpretive Center I trip twice more. Inside my soft comfortable Masai trail shoes, my toes are starting to cry. My hammies soon join in the symphony of complaining whiners. Even my back starts to cramp up just under my right shoulder blade. Oh damn! It was so good while it lasted, but now we have it. Reality has arrived. It was so glorious while it lasted. I limp into the turnaround and back to the tent.

I sit down and Chris Matus helps me refill my pockets with sodium capsules and Hammer. I drink down a Gatorade and fill my water bottle with another. A short coke in hand, I slowly walk out just as Mer comes running in. I leave much slower than I came in, and feeling so much worse. Still I manage to get some amount of speed going. For the first time, I walk the uphills. All of them, big or small. I ask for a coke at the Amy's aid but they don't have any, so I walk past and up the hill. On top, I spin up and manage to run all the flats and downs, but walk every uphill. I continue to see Mer, Jim, and Carey on each out and back, but seem to also stay roughly the same distance in front of them. It may be that we are all following the same energy level cycles? And maybe I just can't judge how far back they are. Without ever looking at my watch, I don't have a clue, but also don't have to think about it. I finally get off the jeep road, which is much less crowded now. I make the turn and struggle over to the dam. I've finally drained my water bottle, so I stop for a refill only and out again quickly.

I don't think I've ever been more efficient with aid stations, such that I don't use any of them. I hook up with one after another people through here as I vainly attempt to steal some energy. But I find no free energy anywhere. I trip and fall twice again, thumping a root so hard that I flat stop and cringe for a moment. Looks like this will be another two loop wonder for me. Can't seem to put together a complete race anymore. My non-plan seems to be unraveling. I turn on my watch and start to pay attention to my time. It sure doesn't make me feel any better but it does change my focus. Eventually, I drag back into the main turnaround. It looks like it took me 2.5 hours this time. That aint so bad! Heck, I thought I was crawling. Strange how your perspective gets so skewed up. I'm moving a lot faster than I thought I was. Strange how that works. Still, I feel like hell.

I change my shorts. Something less bright and more comfortable. More Hammer, salt, and Gatorade. I look for Advil and find none. Chris finds some pain killers but I forget them as I walk out. Carey comes by and I hook up, trying to steal some energy. He looks pretty bad but is still moving well. He says we can make it under 9 hours if we pick it up a little. I look at him and start laughing, "No flippin way", "Aint gonna happen". I'm meat and he looks like hell. He doesn't say a thing but keeps moving steady. I hang on for awhile. I make it almost to the jeep road, but he's gone when I get there. I ask for Advil or a coke and they got neither. I walk out and up. Lots of walking now, running only the downhills. Carey goes by me heading back. I finally get to the turn and ask for Advil or coke. Sorry! Somebody stole it, they say.

Blair Zimmerman catches up and slows down to visit. He's in no hurry so we walk and talk. he pulls ahead and I find him walking on the uphill out of Amy's. We walk some and run a little as we stroll over to the dam. I ask him if he does sodium and he says yea, but all I got left are these damned Advils. No kidding! I trade him for salt and a hug. 3 minutes later, I'm cooking again. I can hardly believe it, as the aches and pains escape my body. The flow comes back quickly and Blair is gone behind me. I go to pass another, but this fellow hooks on and stays there. I pick it up and he stays. Sprinting once again, we quickly buzz the switch backs and the long bridges. We're about to clear the swamp coming into 174 when we go past Carey. "Thanks bud! You inspired me! And I found some Advil!" We don't stop, making the turn and flying up the short hill. Like a couple of pin balls, we bounce down the trail rapidly, through the Interpretive Center and down the last long mile. My finishing partner stays with me right through to the gate. Coming into the finish, I can hardly believe that I've beat the 9 hour time that Carey said we'd do... and I didn't believe him! I'm amazed. Standing their in disbelief, I wait for him. I already know he will. A few others come in, and then Carey. He seems stunned. No expression. I hug him and tell him he's amazing. I'll never doubt you again. He sits down and then here come Blair with seconds to spare, as well under 9 hours.

I shower quickly and when I get back to the tent, Janice has come and gone out for her final lap with Moogy. I ask Henry to give me a ride to the Interpretive Center so I can catch her there. I'd promised her I'd go with her on her final loop if I could, if our times aligned enough such that I could, and they did. Henry and I waited for a few minutes. enough time for me to put on long tights and a jacket. Moogy wants to continue with us so the three of us kept on. Janice is in a good mood. Tired but aware. We walk at a good clip. I ask her a few questions and we talk a bit about pacing and supplements. We make the jeep road quickly where Janice finds a port-o-jon. Some of the workers are still there, about to leave. Up the jeep road to the end and then back again. We pass Jeff Lynn and Liam Douglass, who are just starting up the jeep road and in fine spirits.

Janice says she's not sure she can go on. I ask if she's in pain and she says her feet hurt real bad. I suggest she get at least to the dam before she decides. Once off the jeep road, the ground will be more forgiving and easier on the feet. She agrees, but has to stop at Amy's to patch her feet first. Once on the single track, she does much better, becoming engrossed in conversation with Moogy and I. We almost even talk Moogy into singing. Nearing the dam, I tell her that its 4 miles back the way we came and 6.5 miles to go ahead. It was her decision to choose which way, but it really seems pretty simple. She never even falters. She makes the turn at the dam and keeps on going.

At the levee where we can see the finish across the lake, I remember I had carried a walkie talkie, so I call the gang back at the finish to let them know where we are. We get the scoop on how everybody did and also who else is still out here with us. They can see our lights and we can even hear them screaming across the water. That's when Janice picks up her pace. The news and energy around the conversation with Henry and Gabe raises her energy level a bit. We never slow from that point and Janice avoids falling until just after 174. She finds a sneaky root and rolls a foot over it and down she goes. Right after the Interpretive Center, A truck pulls up and asks who we are. He says Janice is still in the race, but we really don't know what that means. And the finish is glorious. Moogy and I stop to let her finish alone what she started many hours ago. We helped a little but she had to do it herself. They even surprise her by giving her a medal.

An hour later, Jeff and Liam come in, but the medal givers have gone. They do have the satisfaction of knowing they too ran 50 miles. What a great ending to one heck of a day.

joe prusaitis