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.

Rocky Raccoon 2012 Recap

I'd set high goals for myself this year at Rocky Raccoon 100 as I thought there was only one thing to try to do after last year went so well - really go after the clock. Normally this is the opposite of what I do since I firmly believe that your best time in a race is usually from sensible pacing so that you don't slow down much or at all, as I mentioned in a previous post.

But it's a game of odds regarding maximizing your chances at a good run. So to go after the most ambitious target required more of a risk and that's what I decided was worth trying. I had A, B and C goals - 12:32:04 (World Best), 12:44:33 (Course Record) and 13:16:02 (previous Course Record), all of which were ambitious. And I thought that I'd need to go through the end of lap two at 40 miles in 4:50 (last year 4:54) and lap four at 80 miles in 9:50 (last year 9:58) to have a shot...not easy on the trails on a good day.

Race morning started and there were thunder, lightning and possibly the Mayan calendar's predicted end of the world. It was hard to tell with all the rain. Hal Koerner, Karl Meltzer and myself started off at the front in the dark first few miles, with Karl having to stick close since his headlamp was weak and he couldn't see the trail well without our lights.

The start line. Photo: Drymax Socks

By the DamNation aid station at 6.2 miles we also had Oswaldo Lopez running with us and it stayed like that for the first lap, with Oswaldo on my shoulder then the other two just behind. Great to meet him more after seeing his great win at Badwater last year first hand. 2:27 for lap one put us on target, but it felt fast, partly due to the mud. Oswaldo and myself had broken away slightly, then I sped up to go through 26.2 miles in 3:10 on my own, three minutes ahead of last year and flying along feeling good.

Oswaldo Lopez. Photo: From Oswaldo's Badwater-style crew.

Hal Koerner charging in the lead on lap three. Photo: Drymax Socks.

Me on lap three. Photo: Drymax Socks.

Karl Meltzer. Photo: Drymax Socks.

Sabrina Moran racing to victory. Photo: Drymax Socks.

Liza Howard before she got injured. Photo: Drymax Socks.

By around 30 miles I caught glimpses of Hal behind and the legs were starting to feel some fatigue. Even with the surface water, the course had been fairly easy to run on in lap one, but by lap two, 680 people had churned it and it was slippery. I could tell I was slowing and Hal caught me just before the end of the loop with us going through 40 miles together in 4:55, just over a minute off last year and too slow for my A goal given I wasn't going fast at that point.

Karl was barely behind us and both he and Hal went past me within the first couple of miles of lap three as I focused on nutrition to help me feel normal again. Even with some walking breaks, I couldn't get back up to the pace I needed and by 50 miles I felt my left hip flexor was very sore. All that sliding over the mud must have strained it more than normal and I soon started limping. By Park Road aid station at 55.6 miles, Hal was 14 minutes ahead and Karl around 5 minutes, but I couldn't run properly and walked parts of the next section to the loop finish.

At 60 miles I had my trusty pacers from last year (who'd done a great job of getting me through aid stations to that point very quickly), Paul and Meredith Terranova. So I ate some food, had a stretch and decided to start out the next loop and hope for an improvement. All (good) time goals had gone from my mind, but if I could only limp then I knew it'd be stupid to do it for over 40 miles and make things much worse. By the 63.1 mile aid station I decided to call it a day, over nine hours into the race. But somehow running through puddles and mud hadn't caused me any feet issues so I know I can trust my Drymax socks - that was something that had concerned me as a potential reason for slowing down.

Hal went on to win in a mightily impressive 13:24, faster than his 13:26 in 2011 and Karl ran 10 minutes quicker than last year, in 14:17. Oswaldo had dropped off a lot but came back for 3rd in 14:30.

Two-time defending champ, Liza Howard, had led for much of the day in the ladies' race but had to drop at mile 80 with a foot and shin injury to leave the way clear for Sabrina Moran to win by a huge margin in 17:06.

Full results and splits here. Congratulations to all the finishers (and starters).

Joe Prusaitis and his team put on a great event with fantastic volunteers and I can't fathom the effort it takes for the runners out there for up to 30 hours of rain and mud (I've still not done more than two thirds of a day on my feet!). I'm happy that I went for the record but learned that maybe less than perfect conditions on the trail should have made me adjust the goal. I think Hal, Karl and Oswaldo would all have run marginally better times if we hadn't started so fast and I'd have probably finished too, but that's hindsight for you. Next year...this is always worth coming back for.

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).