The fireworks exploded in the sky just before the pianist started playing “Chariots of Fire”. It was almost 4am and a full moon but under the trees it was pitch black. There were more than 200 of us who moved quietly down the dirt road for the start of the Vermont 100 Endurance Run. Not quite the hoop and holler of a marathon start. Much more subdued. All I could think at the time was “It was about damned time”. We were finally in flight . I had been impatiently ready to start running this event for a few days now. We moved quickly from dirt road to wooded trail and one misstep could be disastrous. I was pretty cautious as we climbed up a rough mud coated rocky trail for a few miles. I was consciously slow due to the dark trail and treacherous footing. I did not want to twist an ankle or stress a muscle with so far yet to go. We emptied from trail to dirt road near a pond. You couldn’t see it, but you could sure hear all the bullfrogs calling the Budweiser truck. The 5am sunrise was transparent to us in the trees until much later. It was past 6am and the first two aid stations before I could put up my flashlight. The aid stations were pretty close together and I would never run more than an hour without seeing one. Usually they were closer to 30 minutes apart or 3 miles. Somewhere in here I connected with Bill Close of Washington and we hung together for the first 30 miles. I also met and ran with Fred from New Jersey and a fellow from Canada who was running the race in sandals. I could hear him clopping along for a good distance. I planned on stopping at all the aid stations to consume as much food and drink as possible. I knew my bod would thank me later as I burned calories by the bucket load. I had 6 drop bags at various points in the race with a variety of running gear and food at specific points. We went through the Taftsville covered bridge at 12 miles where I unloaded my flashlight, and picked up my hat, sunglasses, and camera. We were still cautious of the distance so early in the race and held an even pace on the downhills while walking most of the uphills. It was the downhills that ate Bill near mile 27. His 220 lbs had a tough time with some of the steep down grades. I was starting to feel a hot spot on the bottom of a toe on my left foot and stopped at mile 27 to pull my shoes and run a piece of duck tape across the bottom of my toes. It felt strange but certainly alleviated the pain. While I was there sittin on my butt, I loaded up with power mix, a Boulder Bar, coke and potato. Loaded, taped, and ready I moved out again just as Bill came by. We stayed together as we climbed the next long hill into the woods. A dog started running with us here and close behind the dog was Mitch Allen from Dallas. Bill was struggling and I lost him near here as I picked up again with Mitch and the dog. He said the dog had already been with him for 10 miles and he stayed with us until the Lincoln covered bridge at mile 37 where a volunteer grabbed and collared him (the dog, not Mitch). Mitch and I barely managed ok without the dog as we hung together for the next 50 miles, talking, joking, cussing, and story-tellin’. We saw Joyce at mile 30 and also Mitch’s girlfriend Kamie. More power-mix, potatoes, and coke... we moved on. Just get your stuff and go. Keep going forward and keep the aid stops to a minimum time. The next 14 miles featured two great climbs. One was a long slow uphill dirt road that even the horse riders dismounted and walked up. We saw at least 30 runners bunched up on this section all walking. And the next climb into Jenny farm was a roller coaster of up and downs that switched back and forth through the trees. I surged up the jenny farm climb as Mitch fell back, but I planned on taking a break at Camp 10 Bear, so I knew I would see him soon enough. I weighed-in at four under. Fed, watered, and vaselined we started on the big marathon loop between 44 and 68 miles. It was almost 1pm and we would be back to this same spot by 6pm. We immediately did a long slow climb up a rock strewn creek bed that fell off the side of a cliff. This was a nasty climb and we loved it! What followed were bubbling brooks, hillbilly shacks, jeep trails, and many more ups and downs. This section was by far my slowest pace during the entire race. It had a plethora of climbs from short and steep to very long and gradual. We did a lot of walking in here. I stopped again at Tracer Brook at mile 55 to tape the fronts of my toes. I should have done this earlier and would have to pay now for my stupidity earlier with some blisters on my toe fronts. I took some additional time here to sip some hot chicken soap and eat some bananas, potatoes, and power supplements. Mitch was not far ahead with Kamie as we moved out again. We bumped into Jeff from Florida here and he bounced all around us along this stretch but rarely with us. We were still running all the downhills and walking the uphills when they got too steep. Too steep was measured in effort. If it felt like I was exerting too much energy and effort to run up a hill, then I would back off. Most everyone else seemed to be doing the same thing. We were only half way into this thing and had to run or walk smartly here. I met a woman from California who was sprinting all the downhills, and although she was in front of me, I thought she might trash her quads and be dying near the end. I had also met and ran with Neil Hewitt of Dallas early on. Neil and I seemed to run about the same pace but Neil’s real strength was in his walk. He pulled away from us on the uphills as he would walk faster uphill than a lot of us were running the downhills. This guy had it down and would finish well. There were also a few souls who’s quads hurt too much to run downhill and they compensated by running the uphills. I really didn’t think much about the miles. I had mentally broken the race up into pieces. The first 44, the marathon loop for 24 more, then the last 32 was broken into 16 mile halves with Bill’s aid station in the middle. I had done 50 before and knew I could do the 44 ok. The key was doing it with energy to spare. I had done over 20 marathons and was not scared of marathon distances. I just had to run it easy and relaxed. 32 was do-able, but 16 twice sounded even easier. I planned on biting off pieces and chewing them up one at a time as I moved along. I also had to get my weight back up for the next weigh-in at Camp 10 Bear, so I was wolfing down the vittles at every aid station. I thought I was eating plenty already but started to eat even more. I felt bloated with all the food and water I had consumed. I had looked at and attempted to guess times when I would hit certain splits and knew that a 6pm time at 10 Bear was pretty good, so I was pretty happy rolling into it before 6pm. Plus Joyce needed to know when I would be there so she could make her own plans according to what time I came in at mile 68. I felt good, with no weakening yet of mind or muscle. I was still chatting it up with all the aid station volunteers and other runners. I was still having fun. I was warned about the 100 in comparison to the “Wall” in the marathon, they called the “Cliff” in the 100. Well, so far no cliff. I stopped for weigh-in at two under and was much relieved. I changed my shoes and socks, vaselined up, had some Turkey and PBJ sandwiches, power-mix, more potatoes, oranges, and so on. Joyce was ready to run with me from here on in for the last 32 and biting at the bit to go. Strait up another mud covered creek bed into the woods. Joyce kept surging ahead and waited for us as we worked our way to the top of this hill. Once on top we started rolling up and down dirt roads and jeep trails for a ways before Mitch got a hitch in his git-a-long. His hip started hurting and he now had “the reverse runners bug” which made it easier for him to run up than down the hills. So it made it real difficult for us to run together as he moved way ahead of us. Eventually we caught and passed him as he was in quite a bit of pain with 25 miles to get. Sunset was after 9pm but the trees again killed the light well before 8pm. Joyce and I were really pushing it now, trying to use as much light as we could. Once it got dark, we would slow significantly. I was no longer concerned with conserving energy, but with getting as fast and far as I could. We had picked up flashlights at Camp 10 Bear at mile 68 and carried them with us ready for the moment when we would need them. We attempted to go as far as we could without using them to conserve the batteries. We pulled into mile 78 station and informed Kamie that Mitch was coming along but struggling. She was going to pace him in from this point. It was getting dark quickly now and we surged ahead picking up the pace and rolling on this long gradual downhill. Every now and then I would get a muscle twitch in my right quad and had to stop. It felt great to finally let it rip for a few miles. It was the first time I did so today. We had one real steep decline for 100 yards which we did backwards. It felt better like that and my quads thanked me. Bills aid station was the next and last major stop at mile 84 and we were within a few miles of it. I passed the California girl and her pacer walking along here. It was pitch black so quickly that we had our lights on as we went into the woods and over the field into Bills at mile 84. Last weigh-in, and I passed. If I had lost 7% of my weight then I would have been pulled from the race. The temperature had dropped with the sunlight to 45 degrees and I was getting chilled. I changed into a coolmax shirt, took some hot soup, power-mix, other food and was ready to roll. Down to the last 16 and bustin to get it done. We started our final plunge with a large uphill and a long walk which then turned off the dirt road onto a trail through the woods. This wound up and down and side to side following chem-lights for miles. Eventually we pulled back onto a road and up Blood Hill. We passed some horses along here. I stopped at the top for water and GU, but chilled quickly and had to start moving again just to stay warm. We rolled into Jennyville at mile 90 and a party was going on. Joyce headed for the potties as I took some hot chocolate, soup and potatoes. I had a drop bag here but didn’t look for it. I was ready to go and Joyce wasn’t back, so I took off. She followed and quickly caught me. Now I was finally thinking about the miles. 90 behind me and 10 to go really sounded good. I now felt like I had it done and only needed to get my butt in the barn. I could smell the barley. The beautiful Vermont scenery that we had enjoyed all day was now hidden in shades of black and gray. I had taken three rolls of film during daylight but now was done with my picture taking for the night. It felt like we were in a long endless tunnel with the flashlights giving us a limited viewing area immediately in front of us. We surged up Densmore Hill and passed more horses. Actually we went back and forth with the same three horses for the length of this hill. I had become incapable of telling the uphills from the flats in the dark. My quads were pretty tight and my brain was not functioning correctly any longer. My body was depleted and I knew it. I also knew that I had less than 10 to get. I would run until Joyce told me to stop. She was giving me directions like “left”, “right”, “rock”, “mud”, “go”, “walk”, “careful”, and so on. Whatever she said, I did. What a trooper she was, running 32 miles in the dark, through the mountains, on trails, while scanning for directions, and paying attention to me behind her. I could not have had a better pacer. She made my last 32 miles as easy as they could have been. We hit the 94 mile station and met “Judy with a smile”. We turned together in another 200 yards south into the woods, rolling up and down the trails, as Judy melted into the darkness behind us, to the South Woodstock station at mile 96. Man, was I smellin the barn now. Out of the last aid station we went up and up and up as we climbed one more monster hill. You could see the glow-sticks way up in the sky as we climbed this beast of a hill on a trail through the woods for miles. In the darkness, we couldn’t see the hill or the trail. We were running directly from glo-stick to glo-stick in the blackness of the forest. We eventually peaked, started descending, and picked up speed as we picked off walkers in the woods. We started passing them in groups of two and three. As we surged through a field with a trio of walkers, they stopped and applauded as we went by. They applauded my energy as we pushed it in toward the barn. I was amazed at the support all the runners had for one another as well as the aid stations and crews. It was fantastic this feeling of camaraderie that reminded me of my military days in Korea. My energy grew as I passed more runners and closed on the finish. Just as I knew we were close we suddenly turned back up the hill. I couldn’t believe it. I uttered a very loud and ugly word as I started to walk up this hill which was slanted sideways but moved steadily up the side of the hill. Fortunately it only lasted 200 yards or so as we turned again down the hill and into a driveway. Suddenly it was there just 40 yards in front of me. The barn! I pushed down the slope to pass one more horse and into the barn where I stopped. I looked for Joyce but she had gone around the other side of the horse and was gone. She had gone all the way around the barn to come in from the other side. The time was 21:31, it was 1:30 in the morning (Sunday) and it was Miller time.

joe prusaitis