My Wasatch Back '09 recap

I've been trying to figure out a clever/not too mean way to make a joke about how Chasqui Morgan didn't run Wasatch Back, yet is still burning those that didn't write a race recap. The problem is that the more clever they got, the more insulting they were, so I decided against it. Plus, Morg could beat me on foot, in the pool and on a bike - unless, of course it was straight down hill...while eating chili dogs - then he'd be mine.

Anyway, another story for another day.

Here's my recap of the '09 Wasatch Back - not so much for those that ran it with me, but for the newer Chasquis that are testing the Ragnar Relay waters for the first time. I write this for you, and hopefully the grace, beauty and swiftness with which I conquered my legs will be sufficiently illustrated through these written words:

LEG 12 - 3.1 miles - Very Hard - 7:26 pm - 37 minutes 6 seconds
This leg was one of the most beautiful legs of the entire course. I remembered Chasqui Bree when she ran this leg in 2008. She picked people off one by one as she plowed her way up the hill like a train. Indeed, she put the "LOCO" in "locomotive" that day. She was my inspiration for this leg. I knew what I was getting into: a gain of about 600 feet over 3.1 miles. It was going to be straight up all the way.

I felt good though, even though I had been battling Illiotibial Band (ITB) Syndrome in the weeks just before the race. Heck, I even passed people the first time in a Ragnar (Well, I did pass a lady during the Arizona Ragnar, but as I passed her, she made sure to justify her slowness by letting me know she had just given birth to twins two months prior, so I guess that didn't count.). So I passed people this time! Three people to be exact. The third person that I passed was a pretty big dude; probably bigger than me as far as pure mass is concerned. He had a big heart though. After I passed him for the first time at about mile 1.5, it was a battle back and forth until about mile 2.8. I'd pass him then he'd pass me. This probably happened about four times. At about mile 2.8 he passed me. I was cooked and my ITB was starting to kill me, so I was done. Then I turned the last bend and saw the finish line about 100 yards away; the guy I had been battling was probably about 45 yards in front of me. Because this was a major exchange, there was a huge crowd there cheering. Nearest me, I could barely make out my dad with his fist in the air. That was all I needed; it was time to put on a show. I sprinted (still climbing uphill) and passed the guy with about 10 yards to go. What an awesome feeling. A few strangers came up to me afterwards, patted me on the back, and said, "Nice finish."

LEG 24 - 5.2 miles - Hard - 6:19 am - 54 minutes 50 seconds
While most people feel like they do their best during their middle leg, I always feel like it's my worst one. This was no different. It sucked. Despite the Ibuprofen I had been taking, my IT Band was killing me. I started off the leg just fine; this was the adrenaline. That only lasted for about .3 miles and then the pain began to rear its ugly, ugly head. I feel like I limped for a food 3 miles out of the 5.2 that I ran. It was rough. I think the wind was blowing, the road was like a rollercoaster the way it rolled, and I had forgotten my sunglasses so I didn't even look cool. I could even tell my van mates were concerned about me each time they stopped to give me water. Afterward, Chasqui Dennis even said, "Dude, I thought you were about to throw in the towel on that one." Wow. I must have looked bad. I had never heard something like that before, especially from Dennis. Oh well, with about a mile and a half left, the Ibuprofen finally kicked in and even though I was completely out of my rhythm, I was able to finish at a relatively decent pace.

Leg 36 - 5.1 miles - Easy
I don't know my pace or what time I was running because I chose not to wear my Garmin on this one, much like Greg Lemond in his classic win over Laurent Fignon during the final time trial to win the 1989 Tour de France. This was the last leg of our race. I was running the baton into Park City, where the rest of my team would be awaiting my arrival to cross the finish line with me. And I felt good. Running so slow on my previous leg had helped me to conserve quite a bit of energy for my final leg, and I was definitely feeling that benefit. Chasqui Nick passed the slap bracelet off to me in the chute and I was off. Hauling. Beginning with Dennis' lightning quick run in the rain, the Chasquis had been picking people off all morning long, and I was able to keep that going. I passed about four or five guys within the first 1.5 miles that would never catch me.

The beginning of this course was great. It was on a twisty walking path that weaved through the apartments and condos of upper Park City. I could never see more than 100 feet ahead of me, which helped me a ton. It was great and I was feeling good. Then, I got to the last about 2 miles of the race, which was a long, flat straightaway that would not end until about a quarter-mile from the finish line. Yuck. I was all alone and all I could begin to think about was how tired I was and how long a dreary this trail was. It was kind of torturous. I muttled through until the finish line was in sight. As I came to the crest of a final little hill, I could see the other 11 Chasquis waiting at the entrance to the chute to cross the finish line with me. We were done.

Right after we finished, the heavens opened and we got stuck in the middle of the absolute worst downpour of rain that I have ever experienced in my life. Literally.

What a blast.