Twin Mountain Trudge 2014- Operation Poor Life Choices is a go!

On Saturday March 1, 2014, The annual Twin Mountain Trudge once again took place in the mountains outside of Laramie, WY. This year was the 10th anniversary edition and, after missing the past two years due to conveniently time illness, my 7th descent into madness.

For those who are unfamiliar with this, the Trudge is an event that started off as a small club race that has grown into a fairly popular event. After the first few years, the legend around the Trudge grew and suddenly people from all over the region were wanting in. The Trudge is an 11/22 mile trail event that takes you out around the Twin Mountain. What sort of event you'll get is a bit of a crapshoot. As long as the roads are open, the Trudge will happen in any weather that comes our way. This means that we've seen years with temps in the 50's and minimal snow, and we've seen years where the temps were below freezing, the winds were howling, and the snow was deep enough to tickle your cojones. You never know what you'll get until the final pre-race report comes in... and sometimes that'll even be out of date by the time race day rolls around.

This year had more snow than southeastern Wyoming had seen in recent years. The snow started earlier in the year and it seemed like it had been a lot more frequent. Nobody visited the trails until a few weeks before the event, but the general feeling was that this could be a toughie of a year. When the initial reports came in, everybody's suspicions were confirmed- lots of deep snow and a distinct possibility that it could be one of the toughest years yet.

For one very questionable reason or another, I was very excited for this year's race. While this was a good sign that my judgement was clearly impaired, I also viewed it as a good thing. Back in 2011 (the last time I was able to Trudge it up), I was mentally in a bad spot. I wasn't particularly happy in life, and I was just dreading the Trudge. I spent the better part of the week trying to talk myself out of doing it and had actually decided the night before that I wasn't going.... until I went the next morning. It turned out to be a huge mistake, and I mentally wasn't up to the task of taking the challenge on. I actually dropped out at the "unmanned" aid station before getting cold and angry and continuing on. So, the fact that I was excited and thoroughly pumped for this event was definitely a good thing.

The day before race day finally rolls around and it was looking sketchy as to whether or not there would even be a Trudge. The Thursday night before the race, there was significant snowfall in the area and the interstates were closed a solid chunk of Friday. Things finally opened up and race director Alec was able to get out to mark the course, but the event was still sort of in the wait-and-see mode. The race would go on regardless of weather as long as the roads stayed open.... but if you even look at the interstate the wrong way, it's shutting down.

Packing for the race turned out to be a bit of a challenge. Clothing wasn't bad... my standard Trudge race day attire was pretty easy to sort out and I knew I needed enough additional stuff to not freeze to death if I break my hip (hey, I'm getting old!). Food was sketchy... the disadvantage to not consistently running in a long time is that all of your running food tends to be 18+ months past the Best By date. I had some cliff bars and little packets of trail mix that I could bring along. I also had some gels that I packed for one reason or another. Never been a big fan of gels. They just didn't tend to taste good in the past. If I'm trapped on a deserted island, I would generally only consider eating gels if I've run out of other supplies and have already cannibalized the other survivors. Wasn't sure what to do about water either. At that point, there was still a question surrounding whether or not there would be an aid station and what the latest course conditions were like. Choosing to err on the side of caution, I took my largest camelbak (over 80oz) plus a full Nalgene bottle. I figured if there ended up being an aid station, I could at least leave the Nalgene behind.

An old picture, but a fair representation of the amount of stuff I had to dragging along.

I got up race morning and immediately checked the conditions. The roads were open, but the web cams looked like absolute crap. After waffling back and forth for a little bit, I decided to chance it. Turns out that the roads, while not particularly good, were not as craptastic as the internet led me to believe. After a slow drive, I arrive at the starting area. We could not reach the normal starting line, so the race started a little over half a mile up the road, in the wide open prairie. After getting all of my supplies checked, I spent the next half an hour trying to get myself strapped in and hanging out with some of the Laramie running folks I hadn't seen in a while. It was a cloudy 6F with about 10-15mph winds and a little bit of snow coming down. Certainly could have been worse, but definitely the coldest it's ever been for a Trudge.

A frigid starting area.

Alec and Wendy. Alec is the race director, and Wendy is the lady who is apparently OK with him sending people out into the woods to die.

About 10 minutes before race start, everybody was summoned over for the pre-race briefing. At this stage, we were informed that there would be no aid station on the course and the while the north section of the loop would be harder than usual, the south end would be better than usual. After the usual warnings (this is a challenging event, you are on your own if anything happens, be prepared to survive for a good chunk of time before any rescue can get to you, etc), everyone was released back to their vehicles to do any last second packing or unpacking based on the new information. Even though it still felt a little like overkill, I decided to keep all 110+oz of water on me.

Alec giving everyone their Last Rights.

As we were getting lined up, the sun finally came out and it was starting to look like it might end up being a good day. At 10am, we were wished well and sent off into the woods. The first mile or so wasn't too bad. We started running down a dirt road and then across an open prairie that was pretty wind-swept and snow-free. For a few minutes, there was hope that it might be an easy Trudge. Ha! Silly, silly me. Once we got through the prairie and climbing into the woods, things started to slow down. The wind wasn't able to penetrate into the trees and the snow was allowed to accumulate. Much of this early climbing was mid-shin deep and approaching knee deep.

This first section was a struggle for me. The deep Trudging combined with the climbing made it a tough slog. I was frequently stopping and stepping off to the side to drink and to try and catch my breath. It wasn't too long before I had made my way back to DFL. While there were points where having a path beaten out in front of me was somewhat handy, there were other sections where the other racers' tracks were a bit of a pain to deal with. I finally warmed up and was ready to go after an hour or so. My altitude lungs and my Trudging legs had caught up with me. 

The long climb out of the early prairie. One hell of a way to get warmed up.

The weather was posing a bit of a challenge. I never removed or added  any layers of clothing, but what I was wearing was never right. I was way too hot when the sun would pop out. However, I would start getting a pretty good chill as soon as a cloud would pass in front of it. I ended up doing nothing with my clothes because anything I could do would only make one of the situations worse. I figured it was better to be uncomfortable the entire time than to be comfortable half of the time and miserable the rest.

The first half of the course stayed pretty consistent throughout. I would occasionally hit a nice, clear patch where I could gain up a little bit of steam, but most of it was just plodding along in the shin deep snow. As I passed by the normal location of the aid station, I couldn't help but think that it would have been nice if someone had at least hiked the bottle of scotch out there. I didn't want any snacks or extra liquid (I was still overloaded on that)... I just wanted my pre-Fenceline shot. The Fenceline Climb was... well, it was the Fenceline Climb. Long, steep, and too much snow. It recent Trudges, the climb doesn't seem as bad as my early memories seem to recall, but it's still never very much fun either.

Looking back down the Fenceline Climb.

Be wary all those who approach here...

After a little bit more slogging, I finally reach the "official" marker of the second half- the turnoff onto the Devil's Playground Loop. The Devil's loop drops us way down off the mountain, runs us up and down through rock chutes, drags us across an open prairie, and then expects us to climb back up the mountain to the main trail. I'm normally able to run the descent into the loop, however the crusty snow made it a little difficult. I did what I could, but it was a slog. When I hit the bottom, I was spent. I wasn't feeling good and I was getting darker. Physically, I was just tired. Probably in large part because my longest previous run was 3 miles in town. A big thing too was likely that I was struggling to keep to my normal eating schedule. In past endurance events, I liked to first eat about an hour in and then take something else about every 30-45 minutes. However, I had only eaten a cliff bar and a packet of trail mix after 2.5 hours. Mentally, I had just stopped having fun. It had become a drag and every tired step reminded me how much I suddenly didn't want to be out there. I normally have fun scrambling through the rock chutes in the Playground, but it just felt like a ton of unnecessary effort at that point. I was dreading trying to get to the finish and was frequently considering the shortcuts that I knew.

Then came my salvation. In part 5 of The Oatmeal's "The Terrible and Wonderful Reasons Why I Run Long Distances", the writer talks about how he was participating in a terrible run where he was physically and mentally in agony. At some point during his run, he comes across a vending machine, where he purchases the purple drink that brings him back to life. Like The Oatmeal, I had a religious experience. I was tired, I was pissy, and I needed to take something in. It was too much effort to eat a cliff bar and I wasn't feeling like Trail Mix. I wanted something sweet. As much as it pained me, that meant that I needed to take one of my gels. And it was the bestest thing ever. That gel may have been the greatest tasting thing I had EVER had. It brought me back to life. I may or may not have spent over half a mile verbalizing the glory of that gel. I was still physically tired, though I had a new-found pep in my step. Mentally, I was rejuvenated. My focus was no longer on how miserable I was or how far I had to go. That gel was a lifesaver. It certainly got my through the Playground and back up the mountain.

Overall, the pre-race report was correct... the south side of the loop was generally easier than the north side. There was more open areas and the trudging sections weren't quite as deep. BUT, when things went bad on the south side, they went way worse than on the north. The deep sections were deeper. There was also a lot more crusty snow traps to be caught in. I was following the tracks and stepping directly where everyone else had, like I had been the entire race. But there were points where I would be plodding along following the tracks, and then suddenly one of the tracks would collapse and I'd be thigh deep in snow. It was tiresome the first few times it happened. But I got more and more sick of it the longer it went on. There was one point where I sunk knee deep into a spot and just sat there and sulked for about 5 minutes. I was so tired and in no mood for those games. I tried taking another gel, but there is apparently a limit on the number of religious experiences you can have in a single day- It wasn't anywhere near as tasty or uplifting as the first one.

The sun was gone, the snow was returning, and the already low temps starting dropping again.

I ran into Wendy after some more Trudging, who had taken to the course to get pictures of the participants. I stopped to talk to her a bit about the race and some of the stuff that was going through my mind. She mentioned that I was probably only 1.3-1.5 miles out and that the big descent to the prairie was coming up. I checked my watch.... 4:30. If the big descent was coming right up, and if it was as clear as it usually was, and if Wendy was right about the distance, I could potentially break 5 hours. I would have to get moving down the descent and try to somehow run at least a little bit on the prairie, but it could be done. I left Wendy to keep moving forward. Sure enough, the big descent was just a little ways down the trail and it was nice and clear. Made the push down the hill and hit the prairie. I wasn't able to maintain a lot of momentum, but I was able to get 30sec-1 minute bursts of running every now and then. I started dragging again... the prairie was taking FOREVER. It didn't seem that long when we were heading out. Now it just kept going and going and I couldn't see the hill we needed to climb to get to the finish line.

Finally got to the climb and I was bonking. Climbs are no fun and this climb was into the wind with knee deep snow. Finally made it to the top of the climb, only to realize that the dirt road to the finish line was a lot longer and a lot more uphill that I remembered it being. I was done. There was no more running, no more pushing it in. I was walking and whatever time I got there in was the time I was going to take. Folks in the finish area noticed me slogging up the hill and started to migrate towards the finish line. I was still a quarter of a mile out, but I yelled out for Alec to raise his hand. Once he did and I knew who I was yelling at, I tried to make sure he was aware that I thought he was a jerk and that making the finish uphill and into the wind was bullshit. Fortunately, he didn't hear me.

Picture courtesy of Lindsay Sweley. This is a picture of a man who is tired, broken, and has no more fucks to give. Might be my favorite finishing photo ever because the body language communicates so much.

4:56:19. I had finally made it across and somehow beat the 5 hour mark. As a joke, I thought it would be funny to cross the finish line and then just lie down at Alec's feet. Someone asked if I wanted a chair or something to eat, and I declined. Someone asked if I needed scotch and that got my attention. But it was at this point that I found myself regretting the decision to lie down. I tried to get up and everything in my right leg cramped up. I went back down and then suddenly my left leg started cramping too. And it was everything too. Calves. Thighs. Quads. Glutes. Hamstrings. Parts that I don't even know the name for. A couple guys got me up and got me over to the food area where I had my shot of scotch and then another for good measure. I talked with Alec for a bit and my assessment of the race matched up pretty well with the other vets.... not as difficult as 2008, but definitely in the top third as far as difficulty goes.

I wanted to stick around and stay in Laramie for the survivors dinner, but I was beat and starting to get a pretty good chill going. After saying goodbyes to everyone, I got on the road to try to get warmed up and to get my real reward...

Believe me, both of these ranked higher than survival on the list of rewards for finishing the Trudge.

As always, the Trudge was an adventure and a good way to test myself. After sitting back and thinking for a bit, I did come up with a few lessons to be taken from this Trudge.

1: I need to be more consistent about my eating when I race. That I don't feel like eating what I have or that it would take too much time/effort is not a good excuse for not doing it. My bonking was probably related pretty heavily to me not eating very well when I'm out there. On a related note, I should keep my supplies more fresh than 18+ months past the best by date. And I should check sooner than two nights before the race.

2: I can't keep doing events that I'm not prepared for. Right now, my main goal is to get ready for the Bighorn 50k. When I was working with my friend to get my training schedule put together, the Trudge came up and he asked me where it fell in my priorities. We could either focus on the Bighorn and just get myself to the point where I could survive the Trudge (this meant that we would focus on getting me a decent base for the BH training) or we could do some training meant to get me ready for the Trudge (skip the serious base building and risk taking some big leaps). I elected to focus on Bighorn. Sure enough, the training we did was enough to get me through the Trudge. In the week following, I've ran everyday except the day right after. But the day of the Trudge, it wasn't worth it. In the past, I was able to do the Trudge with little to no training and get away with it. But as I get older, it's not as easy and it's not as fun. I want to keep challenging myself, but challenging myself with events that I'm not trained for has lost its appeal. In the future, if I'm not close to where I need to be, I'm not going to do an event anymore. As I start my adventure into ultrarunning, I know that suffering will be a regular companion. But there's no point in going through self-inflicted suffering because I didn't do the legwork ahead of time.

Overall, the Trudge was a successful event and I look forward (OK, wrong wording there) towards surviving future Winter Death Marches.