Badwater Pacing For Aussie Dave Eadie

The crew - Mike, me, Bonnie, Adrian and Casey; photo: Mike Toby.

After enjoying pacing for Mike Wardian at Badwater last year I decided to go back again so managed to find a runner needing some crew. Dave Eadie from Australia is a prolific runner of all distances with a 29 minute 10k a few years ago so I knew he'd be a great competitor and able to push himself, plus Aussie banter would make the hours go by faster as I could rub in how weak his country is at sport, especially cricket. It's also very helpful for me as a coach to pace and crew for others to learn and put into practice things I've learned from experience.

I met the whole crew of Aussies and Americans for the first time (excluding emails) a couple of days before the race - Mike Toby, Adrian Panozzo, Casey Cooper (local knowledge as he lives in Vegas) and Bonnie Busch (serial finisher and crew member at BW). Dave's wife, Kim, and young son, Lucas were also along to be part of the whole adventure.

Three significant climbs over 135 miles.

There's a brief description of the event and this year's podiums that I wrote for irunfar here, but my main experience from the day was Dave's experience (albeit much easier for me since as I kept jumping into an air-con car). The race is kind of crazy with temperatures that are best summed up in the photos - people don't dress like this unless the heat is a serious issue. We had a 'cold' year where the high was only around 114F according to one of out vehicles. It was windy too, which was helpful while it was from behind, but after Stovepipe Wells (42 miles) we had hours of headwind.

Dave Eadie charging through the heat

Me near the finish with the mountains in the background.

Looking back down from half-way up the final climb.

Power-strutting the last couple of miles.

There are three start times on the Monday of the race - 6am, 8am and 10am with faster runners in the later starts and a 48-hour cut-off for each start. We were in the last start due to Speedy Eadie's credentials as a winner of many ultras. He aimed to go under the fastest time by an Australian at the race, which was just over 32 hours, so this was on his mind from the start. But as we entered the first climb, around 44 miles into the race, Dave's stomach felt the heat of the full day and his speed went down as the sun set.

In these types of extreme conditions you expect very low points and his slow climb, including a 30-min nap in the car, wasn't ideal, but we all focused on bringing him back to feeling more normal. It cost a little time, but managing his overall well-being was the priority and in the scheme of 30+ hours it was merely a blip. We just wanted to minimize any future blips.

The rest of the race saw Dave back to running through the night and his resolve was extremely strong. Considering how bad he looked while ill (every runner in this race looks close to death at some point), his turn-around was inspiring. Plenty of running and strong power-walking when needed or when it got steeper led to Dave passing people continuously through to the finish.

Many people were reduced to zombie-like lurching for many of the later miles as parts of their bodies started breaking down. Dave's running form remained surprisingly good throughout and the final climb from Lone Pine to Whitney Portal was a walk, but faster than others could manage. In fact, Dave's split for his final four miles was the second fastest of anyone! He finished 14th in 30:24, so was comfortably under target.

This is an event I still have little desire to do myself, due to cost and the fact it doesn't have much enjoyment during the course for the runner, unlike most 100s. I don't mean it's harder, just less fun to suffer through extreme heat. However, for the crew it's incredibly enjoyable to act as (in Dave's words) a butler, driving a mile or less each time to provide a mobile aid station. Pacing is also more involved than in other ultras due to muling being allowed - carrying things for the runner. As many teams did, we used a sprayer with iced water to run behind and cool Dave down. Weirdly, because he's more reliant on his crew than a runner normally needs to be, it means we all feel more involved in the event.

I'm sure I'll pace again, especially as the timing is ideal for a relaxing trip, in relative terms, after Western States each year. Congratulations to all the runners and their crews - full results and splits here. Of particular note was Mike Morton who was under course record pace almost the whole way, just losing out by a minute in 22:52 as he slowed right at the end. Still mightily impressive from the man who's run three 13:xx 100 mile course records already in 2012 - see Ultrasignup.

Waldo 100k

Being back in Oregon means all the races I meant to fit in last time I was here are now back on my to-do list. That meant I was able to squeeze in Waldo 100k through the Cascades in Central Oregon and see some of the lakes from the Cascade Lakes Relay from high up. Supposedly 11,000ft of climbing in 100k, but several people claim it's more like 13,000ft and, given Miwok 100k is around 10,000ft, this one feels way steeper. Mind you, still a lot less than the UTMB races in a week - the CCC 100k there is over 20,000ft of ascent.

A lack of air-con at home has meant that getting to sleep at a reasonable hour is very difficult right now so I wasn't able to pre-adjust myself for the 5am start but drove down to Willamette Ski Pass the night before to sleep in the car then wake up in a complete daze about five hours too early for my body.

Being the first race of the 2011/12 Montrail Ultracup (which finishes with Western States), it meant runners were attracted by being part of the cup, by the decent prize money to the top finishers overall and by the lure of qualification spots for WS100 for the top two men and women (dropping down to third if any of the top two had already qualified). Given Dave Mackey was the clear favorite (CR holder at Bandera and Miwok 100ks as well as winning both of those this year) and had a WS100 entry already, plus I already had my WS100 place too, that meant it would be very likely that top three in the men would be enough to get that coveted spot. Ditto for the women since Aliza Lapierre was running as the favorite and already had her spot too.

Many of the guys I'd met at Mt Hood 50 and the run around Mt Hood shortly afterwards were there, plus a whole host of other Oregonian and Californian ultrarunners whose names many would recognize. Yassine Diboun in particular was gunning for a WS100 qualifier and looked like he had a great chance to get it...I knew I'd be looking out for him along the whole way and hoping to stay ahead.

The course went up the ski run from the lodge, climbing steeply enough to make me walk before the top of the approx 1,200ft climb. It was pitch black and my headlamp was dying so I had to focus very hard through the trees (no moonlight to help out) to not fall and to spot the lights ahead of me so I wouldn't miss a turn on the single-track.

By the first aid station at 7.4 miles, Dave had zoomed off but the next six or so guys were all together and we could finally turn off the lights. Time to make the ascent from under 5,000ft (lowest point on the course) to around 7,200ft on top of Mt Fuji. Hopefully I'll see its namesake next year in Japan for TNF Ultra-Trail Mt Fuji but this one was mainly runnable and in the last few steps we were given a sudden and spectacular view out over Waldo Lake and a large chunk of the Cascades.

Waldo, photo courtesy of Craig Thornley.

Fuji view from a random Flickr account online.

Unfortunately we then headed straight back the way we came so the view was only for a few seconds. I'd have loved to stay longer but the heat was on and I was only in about fifth with Dave already about 10 minutes ahead, judging by the out-and-back to the summit. I at least wanted a chance of winning.

Lots of fast downhill followed and I moved past Yassine into fourth, trying to conserve energy and reduce pounding on the thighs given I was only about 15 miles into the race. Nick put some distance on me but I felt I was going fast enough and looked at the splits I'd written on my arm for the CR and saw I ran that section below CR pace, albeit still five minutes too slow overall.

Annoyingly, I still haven't felt fresh and good in a race since about March, just before I ran way too many races and overtrained. I'd hoped to be back to normal by now but the legs still had that heavy feeling and, relatively, a distinct lack of pace compared to five months ago. I've accepted that I need to do a hell of a lot more proper hill training to improve running in races like Waldo, but Bend is the perfect place to do that. I've already started, with runs around Mt Hood and up to the top of Mt Bachelor a week ago (can hardly call it a run, but 'crawl' would be fairer). It's funny that I went an entire winter with no snow in Cali but now it's summer in Oregon I'm getting in a couple of snow runs every week by going up high.

The day heated up on the way through to the third climb up to the Twins and I kept discipline to run where possible, even if just for 50 yards, and power-walk any harder gradients. I could see how Dave was going so fast since the course was almost all runnable, but not yet for me. I went over the top of the first Twin and reached the 32 mile aid station on the way down, still in fourth and having run solo for quite a while.

I eventually caught up to third after the bottom of the descent and managed to overtake since he had stomach problems and later dropped. Then the climb up started again, but it was fairly easy at first and a slow jog was possible. It did gradually get steeper, but I jogged maybe half the time and on every section that I could.

By about 40 miles the power-hike/jog combo put me in sight of Nick Triolo in second, who was having a great race in his first 100k. I met Nick at Mt Hood 50, where he was third, then again running round that mountain where he carried one of my water bottles after my big fall left too much blood on my right hand to carry anything with it. We pushed up and up, maybe jogging half the time as we hit the snow. It's very rare for this course to have snow as it's in late August, but luckily the last few weeks of melting after a monster winter had meant we never had more than about 200 yards of snow and trail-finding was very easy with the pink surveyor's markers.

At 42 miles I felt slightly fresher after not having run much in the last few miles so I started running more than Nick and soon left him behind near the top of the climb. Just two more downhills left and one evil bitch of an ascent in-between.

I kept stuffing food and gels into me whenever possible but I was knackered and had lost my uphill legs, or whatever I had of them in the first place. Luckily I still felt fine on downhills and was cruising those through the single-track (almost the entire race is single-track and, if not tired, really enjoyable running).

The final climb started and was gentle at first so I hit the 49.9 mile aid station looking hot and bothered and really not looking forward to the steepest and greatest climb of the day up to Maiden Peak at over 7,800ft. However, I'd been told by Jeff Browning (who at that exact point was en route to a solid fifth at Leadville Trail 100 - nice work, mate!) that the gradient changes a lot so there are plenty of short runnable bits. Maybe for him, but after a third of the climb I was stuck in a power-walk. Well, not even that - more of a determined tip-toeing gradually uphill. I was working so hard, even at a very slow pace that I couldn't take on any food - I literally didn't have enough breath or saliva to swallow and didn't want to stop to eat. That's a new sensation, but reflects that I'd hammered through the day on legs that hadn't had any taper whatsoever (not smart, but I need the hill training and miles to get ready for UROC 100k and TNFEC Championship Final).

When I finally got to the top, the view was just amazing, but I was paranoid about losing my position and was sure that at least one of the guys behind me wouldn't have been so slow on that climb. I did stop for a few seconds to take it in, but then headed straight back downhill and didn't see anyone on the out-and-back final section to the peak so knew I had at least six minutes on third.

Maiden Peak summit view, courtesy of a random Flickr account.

Down, down, down and very steeply at first. Now I could feel it a bit in the legs but knowing it was only 7.5 miles to go from the next and final aid station, I didn't mind. I ate, drank and was generally incoherent while the aid station volunteers were very helpful. Now I just wanted it over and it felt more like closing out a 100-miler than a 100k.

Theoretically it was great running to the end, with three miles of gentle rolling trails then a gentle downhill for the final 750ft descent. Normally this would have been the type of trail to make me smile like a lunatic, especially with the few sections along the edges of the turquoise mountain lakes. But I was running with the fear of being caught by third, who I assumed would be able to chase me down after such a slow section previously.

Eventually I saw Lake Odell and the Ski Lodge and ran in for second in 9:42:51, exactly 36 minutes behind Dave. He crushed the CR by over four minutes and was on a massage table looking much better than when I last saw him post-race at WS100 where it looked like he was on a drip. He'd led from start to finish and run a very solid race, but I still posted the sixth fastest time in the race's history and only Dave has run the final section faster (so I probably wasn't in danger of being caught, in hindsight). A tough day which didn't go to plan and felt pretty awful 90% of the time, but it should make future races feel better and this was one I'm glad I got the chance to do.

It's a fantastic race course and was a chance to catch up with many of the non-Ashland-based Oregonian speedsters who either ran, paced or just showed up to chill out with a beer. Nick held on for third in 10:08 so has his spot at WS100 booked, which is great for him, but unfortunate for Yassine who really had his heart set on it (he ended up fifth after a hard day with a very respectable 10:28). Aliza won but just missed the women's CR by 10 minutes and finished in sixth overall in 10:33. Full results here.

Going to the Bend Brewfest afterwards was also a slight endurance feat, but in a town with so many breweries, this is something I couldn't miss.

Next up is a trip to the Alps to crew for a TNF athlete at UTMB, probably Hal from how things seem to be headed. I fly in two days and once I feel less exhausted I'll have enough adrenaline to get really pumped up about this instead. But I'm very glad I didn't enter it this year since I'm clearly not ready for it yet. One year of training should be enough so I can at least get through it ok without completely breaking myself.

What a busy weekend of races it's been and congratulations to all the finishers at all of them, especially the friends I've got running these: Pike's Peak Ascent/Marathon, Leadville Trail 100, Trans Rockies.

Crewing for Mike Wardian at Badwater 135

Right next to the start line below sea level

Mike plus crew checking out the conditions the day before the race

Mike's ice bath at 42 miles

The entrance to Death Valley

What sort of idiots would run here before the race...or during?

Night running

Dawn sprints

Half way up the final climb and looking back with Mt Whitney behind

I’d heard that Mike was running Badwater earlier in the year and my first thought was ‘rather him than me.’ I’ve run two 100-milers so far this year and am not feeling the need to extend the distance just yet. I've never had any inclination to run this monster of a race, not because it's too hard, just that it doesn't look like 135 miles of pure heat would be fun. 

Friends have run this before plus it’s a race with a big reputation for being brutal due to numerous factors – it’s 135 miles, it starts below sea level but finishes around 9,000ft plus it’s in Death Valley with temperatures reaching 130F (50C) in the shade, of which there’s almost none. Blogs and personal accounts of this race include horror stories of very experienced runners being reduced to crawling while unpleasant things happen in their stomachs, causing extreme issues which I don’t need to go into. This is why it calls itself ‘the world’s toughest footrace’.

And until this year it had a cut-off time of 60 hours (now it’s been reduced to 48). 60 hours of non-stop racing in the most debilitating conditions imaginable while feeling like hell. Sounds fun to you?

Even though it didn’t sound like it would be enjoyable for the runners, it’s clearly an epic challenge and I asked Mike if he’d like an extra pacer to add to his crew so I could see first-hand. Luckily he took me up on the offer and I joined a group of his friends (Vince, Andy, Rick, Jay and Mike’s brother, Matt) who he’d known for years although only Jay had serious ultra experience, having run Badwater and crewed for it numerous times. He was the man we all looked to for advice and it was invaluable to have his logistical knowledge.

I didn’t really know what I was letting myself in for since I’ve run many ultras, some with pacers, but Badwater involves so much more input from the crews and pacers. Usually pacers can’t ‘mule’ for their runners, which means carrying supplies and kit for the runner. Only the crew can do this and usually only at designated aid stations. But at Badwater, the crew drives along the route and stops every mile or so to offer food and drink refills while a pacer runs behind (not in front or side-by-side according to the rules) carrying water etc. No pacers are allowed for the first 17 miles from the start at Badwater but then the pacers can carry iced water in a spray and continuously spray their runner. That’s a lot of effort given the harsh conditions.

Anyway, the pre-race days went well with everyone getting to know each other and Mike giving off a relaxed vibe, even though he said he was nervous. Race day came along and Mike was in the third wave of runners at 10am, reserved for those expected to run the fastest times. This meant he’d spend much of the race catching people who had either a two or four hour head start.

Mike started conservatively and was a few minutes behind the leaders after two miles. This was the plan and we were glad to see he didn’t feel the need to zoom off at the start and was saving his energy. Most runners wore mainly white to reflect the heat, except last year’s winner, Zach Gingerich, who had a blue top with long, baggy orange shorts and led from the start. Mike had plenty of lycra to reduce chaffing, bandanas to give him an ‘ice turban’ plus more ice on his neck and around his chest. Everything we could do to keep him cool would help, even with the lower temperatures than usual (‘merely’ 115F).

The crew was kept busy switching his small water bottles using the multiple ice coolers and enough water in the cars to fill a swimming pool. We had a huge selection of food for both Mike and ourselves and tried to offer it as and when he requested. This became easier after Furnace Creek at 17 miles since we could then pace him and carry a walkie-talkie to relay instructions through to the main van in advance of him arriving.

I hadn’t expected to be running through Death Valley with a radio in one hand, a spray filled with iced water in another and gels, bandanas or whatever else he wanted in pockets or balanced in our hands. For some reason I thought it’d be fairly easy to pace and crew this race, but it was great from my perspective that we were all more involved. It felt more like we were in the race. Except, any time we got tired we could just sit in the air-con of the van and relax. None of us ever ran more than about 3-4 miles at a time with him and had plenty of time to recover.

The first 42 miles are basically flat to Stovepipe Wells, but were hot and hard enough to cause multiple finisher and winner, Pam Reed, to have to drop out. Mike looked strong at this point and we had an ice bath ready for him to help cool him down. Given that conditions weren’t quite as bad as they could be, we hoped he wouldn’t need too many of these but the use of the radios meant we could always have one ready for him if he needed it.

After Stovepipe Wells, which is really only a hotel, store and gas station, Mike had the first of the three serious climbs. In addition, this was the hottest part of the day and a headwind of frazzling air increased the difficulty by drying out his eyes, nose and mouth. A good way to describe this section is a 5,000ft climb over 18 miles in dry sauna conditions with a hairdryer blowing in your face. Luckily for the pacers, we had Mike to block the hot wind so we could focus on spraying water on his upper body. During this section, Mike and I also popped out Spiderman masks for a photo (which I'm trying to get hold of now), in reference to us both breaking the Guinness World Record for Fastest Superhero in a Marathon (me first then Mike smashed it the following weekend).

It got marginally cooler as we climbed and it was starting to get dark by the top. Mike was still talking and in great spirits. So much so that we let him jog the downhill on his own since he was moving reasonably fast and we wanted to save our own energy to keep as fresh as possible when the sleep deprivation set in. It’s extremely important for the crew to look after themselves as well as the runner since nobody wants to be a drag on the person who is actually in the event. We all wanted to be able to jump to help every time he needed it.

I had my first break as nightfall hit. Mike didn’t get any of these, but I fitted in a meal at Panamint Springs which is the third desert outpost along the course, at 72 miles. Mike came through around fourth place and still looked good as the second long climb started in the dark.

It was now completely dark but with almost a full moon to light the road enough to see. Everyone, including Mike, had red flashing lights on front and back for safety, but while the moon stayed visible we didn’t need a headlamp.

This climb was slower although Mike did move into third place along the way. There was more walking as the miles started to take their toll, even with the temperatures hitting as low as the 60s. From this point it was all about survival and maintaining the body through fuelling and electrolytes. This meant we constantly reminded Mike to eat, even though he had no appetite.

Mike was passed by the eventual winner, Oswaldo Lopez, along this climb. Oswaldo had looked pretty exhausted 30 miles earlier but was now fresh and moving at a great pace. We wished him well then continued the hard slog uphill. Soon after Mike felt so bad he had to walk even in the mild heat and on the flat. These are the times that really test the runners and make the difference between losing a lot of time and getting a second wind. Mike is mentally as tough as can be but couldn’t stomach food so it was difficult to turn him around and get him back to feeling more comfortable. After more walking he was able to eat a little and soon came back to us and ran again.

The hour before dawn is meant to be one of the hardest in any ultra due to the lack of sleep and time on the feet to this point. But at the first hint of light Mike perked right up. He started running fast enough to tire the other guys pacing him and I stepped in to sit behind him, offering anything he needed. Amusingly, he was listening to music and started accelerating even more as the songs got into his blood. He was in a zone and we’d covered over 100 miles, but still had plenty left so it was too early for any kind of sprint finish. But Mike was in third and wanted to go for the win so he went with it, even throwing in surges which stretched out my legs more than I wanted to at this point.

I then switched out, told the other guys to not bother pacing until he slowed (mainly because he was going so fast it’d just tire us out too much) and took a break while the others agreed to stop every half mile for him, given the lack of a pacer mule. Instead, I went ahead to see where first and second were and to time the gap to Mike.

By the time Mike got to me he was just over an hour off the lead and had around 20 miles left, but he’d slowed back down to a jog. It would all come down to the last 13 miles after Lone Pine, which is basically all uphill for a winding route up to the base of Mt Whitney and the finish line. Anything can happen in ultras this long and runners can lose hours if they have serious problems. A mile can take an hour or even more and some people have to just stop and rest for long periods to sort out the damage they’ve done to themselves.

It was bright and sunny again but not too hot, especially compared to the previous day. Sub 24 hours looked possible at a stretch, but only if Mike could feel good the whole way up. We spurred him on to catch second place, who was only a couple of miles ahead. Unfortunately Mike then had his worst patch of the race and could barely walk at a crawling pace. He also couldn’t keep any food in him, which made it hard to bring him back. We were forced to stop and let him sit down, sipping water gradually.

This was the toughest part of the race for all of us. Mike was in his own personal hell while we could only sit there and wait. There was nothing we could do since even the stomach medicine or ginger ale was too much for him. If he didn’t get better soon, we’d have to suggest a lie down in the hotel after leaving a stake by the road to show where he was when he went off course (another nuance of the race).

Mike forced himself up although he wasn’t much better and decided to push through the last four miles of switchbacks. Catching second had left our radar but keeping third was now a serious task and we constantly looked over our shoulders. Seeing Mike keep going, surviving on just iced water, was inspiring and really showed the spirit of this race. I told him that if it had been easy it wouldn’t mean as much to finish. So he kept walking and did the last 3.6 miles in just over an hour, which is generally considered to be a good pace. Not many have broken an hour for the final section of climb and nobody runs it…until they see the finish line, anyway.

As he approached the last corner, all the crew joined him to jog across the finish line. This reflects that the crew has a large part to play to get their runner through it all and is a nice touch. An hour previously I wasn’t certain Mike would finish without going to the hotel first but he looked surprisingly sprightly. I think that when he accepted he wouldn’t feel any better, he just dug in to grind out those last miles without expecting to feel fine again. 26 hours 22 minutes for third place.

I was honored to be part of Mike’s race and the whole crew loved helping him achieve a great finish. It wasn’t the win he’d wanted but it also wasn’t a DNF (did not finish). I’ve never seen anyone go through such highs and lows in an ultra, but I know it is standard for this race. It was incredible to watch first-hand and harder, yet more fun, to be crewing and pacing than I’d imagined. My opinion of the race has changed slightly and I'd love to return to crew/pace, but I'd still rather run on trails and have more fun than run this whole thing myself. Plus it's not cheap - budget for around $10,000 to cover entry, travel, car hire etc for the runner plus the crew. Never say never, but I'll stick to Western States for my long run at this time of year for now...or maybe Hardrock if I can get an entry.

Full results on the race website here. And a Washington Post article on Mike and two other runners is here (it includes the only copy of the photo of the two Spidermen).