The man walking towards us was dressed in camouflage fatigues and carried a crossbow with a rack of arrows loosely in is hands. His face was marked with grease paint and he just glared at us as we ran past. We had just ruined his morning. Our pack of four was just part of the 94 who had started the Arkansas Traveler 100 Mile Endurance Run only 5 hours and 25 miles ago. We were on a single track trail deep in the woods of the Ouachita Mountains. Days before Joyce & I had left for Little Rock, Bob Blumquist told us not to worry if we saw hunters in the woods wearing camouflage and carrying guns. He said they were only hunting bear. At the time, I thought he was just poking fun at us. Now I was trying to remember again what he said and whether or not he was laughing.

I like to break a run down into parts. I’ll look for key aid stations at even breaks, which allow me to half and quarter the entire run, creating focal points at stations where I plan on taking breaks. Initially, I thought of them as physical breaks for my body to recover and recharge, but now I know that they are just as much mental breaks too. To prepare for this kind of run, I look at previous results, topo charts, course maps, aid station locations, and stories from other runners about past experiences. I create a chart with all the stations, insert my finish goal time and then calculate my predicted time for each aid station. I don’t really expect to hit these times and don’t even pretend to hold myself to them, but they help my crew (my wife - Joyce) know when I’ll be near each point. Hollis Baugh and his girlfriend Michelle Aycock had come up from Austin with us and Hollis had run this event two years ago placing 13th with a time of 21:47. I asked Hollis lots of questions in hope of learning anything helpful. He told me to beware the rocks!

The majority of runners at the start were Texans and we had just witnessed the local runners do a series of yips, yells and pig grunts, not much unlike what we heard when we had driven into the park 30 minutes ago. I understand that it is traditional here to wake everyone up at 5:30am with an amplified tape playing animal sounds. It was still playing at 6am as we walked to the start in the dark. I knew some of these folks and figured to meet most of the rest sometime during the run. I fell in immediately with Peter Moore of Vermont whom I had met just two months ago in my last 100. Peter had done Arkansas last year and I wanted to stay with him for a bit to avoid getting lost.

The run began with an initial loop of 17 miles that followed with a long 83 mile out-and-back. Within the first couple of miles our group had grown to four with Paul Schmidt of San Diego and Kevin Sharp of Dayton. This group would stay together for the next 30+ miles. Peyton Robinson of Kansas also ran with us for about 10 miles. Running and stretching my muscles, checking out the scenery, talking trash, enjoying the pace and the peace within the trees, it felt good. This was why I do these trail runs. We passed a runner who had fallen on some rocks and was holding one arm tight to his ribs, victim of the rock trolls. We came out of the short loop back to Lake Sylvia (mile 17) and Joyce helped me with Cytomax and GU. The four of us all continued out of here together. So far, the only discomfort I had was my feet - not a good sign. The trails were loaded with rocks and they were killing my soles. My shoes were flat by mile 20 and I had to change them out soon. I had the foresight to leave a spare set of shoes in my drop bag at Lake Winona (mile 32) where I stopped and changed socks and shoes. I also refilled water bottles and recharged with supplements, including an ice cream sandwich. The others had gone on ahead and I ran alone for less than ten minutes before I caught Peter and Paul. We lost Kevin in here somewhere. The sun was up and roasting our bodies while the rocky trail was trashing our feet. There just wasn’t enough tree cover to protect us and even then, the humidity kept us wet with sweat. Peter went ahead here while Paul and I visited nature. The volunteers who helped us at Drop-off station (mile 40) were wearing grass skirts and coconut bras. I think that Peter surged ahead just because he was in a hurry to get here. We took off our shirts and hats and saturated them in water to help cool us down. It felt great but would only keep us dry for a few miles. Every little bit of help would be welcome. We found Mickey Rollins of Houston working the Smith Mountain station (mile 43) and were soon after at the B.M. Road station (mile 47). We met and ran with Earl Blewett of Tulsa as we crossed the summit of the mountain, and we passed another guy who was limping pretty bad. We bounced around Earl for the next couple of stations. Paul and I came into Powerline station (mile 49) to a smiling Joyce and Michelle. They helped get us fixed up and out quickly, knowing I would be back after another 19 miles, when Joyce would jump in and run the last 32 with me. She had done the same distance with me at Vermont. Four miles later we found Buffalo Gap station (mile 53) and the friendly rastafarian gang with beef fajitas and coke. We jammed to a raggae beat while the guys with dreadlocks waited on us. We had just 5.5 more miles until the Turn-Around station and then back home, or eleven miles back to this same place. The race leader Joe Hilderbrand of Illinois had just passed us going the other way and looking smooth. We could still catch him... if he quits! The sun was directly at our backs and we ran into our shadows as they raced in front of us... getting taller by the minute. Paul was running well, but I was dragging my buns. The heat monster and the rock trolls had ganged up and beat me silly. I thought I was used to the heat running in Austin. Guess not! I rarely do run through the whole day in the heat. Usually, the longer the run, the earlier we start. Paul pulled me into Turn-Around station (mile 59) for a chance to repair. I found a chair and pulled my shoes and socks to tape my feet, had some soup, some drinks, and was ready to leave when a volunteer says to me “Joe from Austin - you want some beer?”. “Now, why would you ask ME if I want a beer?” I ask, and was informed that most Texans ask for it. In fact, she had some Lone Star on ice just for us. Well, I was already impressed with the volunteers and this additional consideration truly impressed me. What could I do but accommodate her - so I had one. Hollis had come into the station while Paul and I were chillin, and had gone out just before us. We followed him up the road about a hundred yards back as the sun finally disappeared, leaving us in the dark. Even without the sun, it was still hot and it didn’t get much cooler as evening wore on. It was almost 7pm. It was downhill to the Turn-Around so it was uphill coming back out and up to Buffalo Gap (mile 64). The sky filled with stars and the moon appeared as just a sliver of a crescent, making for a gorgeous blanket over us. We ran in the dark for a few miles before we turned on our lights just to enjoy the view. Paul even started singing a loud, slow blues tune and did a damned good job of it. I was glad he didn’t ask me to join in. I would have spoiled the moment. The rasta guys were still jammin as we passed through. We were passing folks going the other way, in groups of twos and threes as almost everyone had paired up. Back to Powerline station (mile 68) by 9pm, Joyce was ready and we pulled out right behind Hollis and his pacer Paul. Another runner was also running along with them. Our two small groups of three bounced off each other through the next few stations. We crossed B.M.Road station (mile 70) manned by one very quiet fellow and his dog. It was nasty footing in here with holes and rocks hidden by the leaves and high grass as we stumbled and bumped through here. Mickey was still at Smith Mountain station (mile 73) and served up some beef soup and whatever else we wanted. Coming into Drop-off (mile 77), Paul held back with stomach problems. He didn’t want to slow us down so he sent us on. We had run about 75 miles together and I didn’t want to go ahead without him. We barely stopped at Pig Trail station (mile 80) and then pushed on past to Lake Winona (mile 85). Joyce’s flashlight burned out just as we came in. Hollis swapped pacers here from Paul to Michelle and they left as we were pulling in. We watched as their lights disappeared up ahead. We took our time to change shirts and recharge with soup and coke. A new flashlight was lent to Joyce by another of the unbelievably helpful volunteers. Maybe it was the darkness or maybe it was brain cell depletion, but it sure seemed like we had been going uphill most of the way since the Turn-Around. True to form, we had another slow steady climb for 2 miles up to the next station (mile 88). My stomach was getting pretty sick of everything by this point and to remove the pressure from my gut, I slung my water belt over my shoulder a few times for relief. We turned onto a very rough trail and another climb from here for another couple of miles to Electric Tower station (mile 92) and finally downhill to 132C station (mile 94). I pulled up a chair for a short break and was enjoying some pumpkin pie when two runners suddenly came screaming into the station. After 94 miles I didn’t feel much like letting anyone pass me. I found a new motivation. Thanks guys. I really needed that. It was time to go. Just 6 miles until done and I still might not reach the only goal I had set for myself in this run... to break 24 hours. From here on in, it was pretty much level or downhill... and we cruised. Now there were mile markers posted every mile as we headed for home... 95, 96, 97, 98, 99, 99.5, and on into the finish area where a loudspeaker came to life and announced our arrival. It was 5:30 in the morning and my run time was 23:29:53. No crowd, just a few race officials who congratulated me as I finished. I wandered over to the runners finish tent and found Hollis. He had come in 15 minutes in front of me. We found the participant board and learned that we were 13th and 14th and almost 50% of the field were DNFs. I was told that this was their largest ever drop ratio in the event’s 7 year history. The rocks were tough to run on, but that has been constant over the years. The heat and humidity must have sapped everyone’s energy more than anticipated. Paul, a veteran of over 20 hundred-milers, came in 2 hours later, happy to run, and glad to finish. Peter did well, placing 9th with a 21:45. Kevin and Earl both finished well with sub 24s. My legs were fine after the run. Quads, hams, calves all ok, but my feet and ankles were hamburger meat from the pounding of the rocks. I still loved it. It isn’t about pain and struggle, its about adventure and very large memories.

joe prusaitis