Pre-Race: My flight from Houston departed at 2:30pm on Friday afternoon. Most of the flight the skies were clear enabling me to identify El Paso and the Franklin Mountains and then a little later the Organ Mountains in East New Mexico. Further west over New Mexico the airplane began encountering some turbulence. About 45 minutes before landing in Tucson the view from my window seat on the airplane became obscured with clouds. Through an occasional break in the clouds I could see some snow-capped mountains ! I was looking forward to this run in the Santa Rita Mountains. Given the turbulence the small airplane encountered, the landing was remarkably smooth and 15minutes ahead of schedule. It was 4pm MST.

I had reserved a 4-door compact car from Avis. Arriving to the Avis counter, the employee informed me there were no more compact cars but I could have a Tracker. I was not familiar with a Tracker, and my main concern was that it had 4 doors. The employee assured me of this, and when I walked out to the designated parking spot I was pleasantly surprised to see a small type of SUV.

Old Pueblo 50miler is held SE of Tucson in the Santa Rita Mountains/Coronado National Forest. Leaving the airport, I followed signs to I-10 and headed East toward Benson. It is always odd to drive on I-10 in a different state. ( I-10 is one of the major interstates through Houston). I have not visited Tucson since the summer of 1975 while on an 8 week family vacation in the West. Seeing signs for Tombstone along I-10, I realized I had previously seen this landscape from the backseat window of our old green Ambassador station wagon. I remember visiting Tombstone and drinking some sassparilla (sp?) with my Dad. We drove 10,000 miles that summer, and Arizona was in the second half of the trip….we visited Lake Havasu, Tucson, Tombstone, Flagstaff, Slide Rock and the Grand Canyon .

Soon it was time to exit I-10 and head south on Hwy 83. About 15miles later I saw the sign for Gardner Canyon Rd... Since it was still daylight I decided to drive to Kentucky Camp, the start/finish for Old Pueblo. It was about a 6mile drive on dirt roads to reach Kentucky Camp. I parked the car, and walked the remaining few tenths of a mile down to the buildings. It was 5:45pm, and still plenty of people around (Packet pick-up was from 1pm-5pm). I was able to get my race packet and my race number: #65. [Note: The race numbers were the most unique ones I’ve seen at a race… resembling a quilt square or potholder pad.]

Not wanting to waste the daylight, I returned to my car and drove back out the dirt roads to Hwy 83 , continued south to Sonoita , then a right . It was another 12 miles to Patagonia. The pre-race dinner social was being held at the Velvet Elvis Pizzaria. There was still minimal daylight when I arrived to Patagonia, and I easily found the restaurant along the main road and parking across the street.

Inside the Velvet Elvis, I saw Tom Crull and Britt Starnes from Dallas/NTTR. I just managed to catch Matt and Anne Watts as they were ready to leave. They are from Colorado, and I’d seen them recently at Bandera 100K/50K and Rocky Raccoon 100M/50M in Texas. I sat at a table with a person named Rob who was from Tennessee but previously lived in Ohio, and a person named Susan who now lives in Las Vegas but previously lived in the Bay Area. I ordered a slice of “Green Giant” pizza, and soon it was time to leave and locate the Bed & Breakfast bunkhouse a few miles outside of Patagonia where I had reservations for Friday night. When I arrived to the bunkhouse, I was the only guest. Not only did I have the whole house to myself but also the company of a big friendly black dog with a gray muzzle! The dog kept me company as I organized all of my stuff for Saturday morning. My room was quaint and looked out to a patio area.

The alarm went off at 4am Saturday morning. I left the B&B around 4:50am to drive back to Kentucky Camp. By the time I parked the car , gathered my dropbags, and walked down to the Kentucky Camp builldings it was only 15minutes before the 6am race start. I heard my name called, and it was Pat and Wayne Coates. (Pat and Wayne live in Tucson. I met Pat and Wayne at Western States training camp last year) Wayne showed me where to leave my dropbags.

Race Start: The temperature was cool, around freezing, but I was feeling comfortable standing around so I decided to give up my fleece vest and tights? it would warm up quickly after sunrise. Standing at the start line I felt cold though.

The race started on time at 6am. The first 30minutes or so it was dark and I used a small flashlight. The skies had cleared from the previous day, and there was a full moon to enjoy as the sun slowly began to rise and light up the sky. I took a photo to try to capture the full moon and the snow capped mountain peaks we were running by, but the disposable camera lacked this ability and the photo turned out disappointing My goal at Old Pueblo was to break 11 hours. I was using OP50 as a test... to help me set time goals for an upcoming event this summer.

The first aidstation, Granite Mountain, was around 3miles. I arrived to this point in 32minutes. I had made the right choice to give up the vest and tights before start of race, because I was feeling plenty warm. Leaving Granite Mountain there was an uphill that I decided to walk. I heard my name being called from behind and turned around to see Wayne. I was happy to see him, it would be fun to run together.

The scenery in this section was beautiful. We passed through a field/pasture type of area and the grass was frozen with a layer of frost. This section, between Granite Mountain and California Gulch Aid station (7mi) , is a section we would traverse later in opposite direction after finishing the northern loop of course. It was also in this area that I met up with another runner.. she was also from Tucson. She was a very good uphill runner--- tick,tick,tick like a clock up the hill. In the 16-17miles that followed, she would pass me on long uphills and I’d pass her on the long downhills.. we chuckled about it .

I arrived into California Gulch at 7:20am (1:20 elapsed). California Gulch was Geri’s aid station and the first dropbag aid station. My stomach had been growling the previously mile, so I was happy to get the cans of Boost out of the dropbag . After drinking one can and emptying a second can into my water bottle, I grabbed a PB&J from the aid station table and was ready to continue. So was Wayne.

Back on the trail.. the next section would take us through a wash area and eventually to Wasp Canyon Aidst at 13miles. It had rained and snowed on Thursday and Friday, so the washed out area was still frozen from the cold night temperatures. Because the loose gravelly stuff was frozen it was much easier to run through.

Wayne and I kept a good pace through this section because it was rather flat, and I was beginning to tire of the flat and hoping we would be returning to some hills soon. Wayne assured me the hills would return soon. Before we knew it, we were at Wasp Aid station. I did not get a split here. The temperature had warmed up significantly and it was time to shed the long sleeve layers and leave them in the dropbag.

Departing Wasp Canyon, we were now on the section of course which Wayne had marked on Thursday. He said that there had been several inches of snow on the trail then. I was glad it had melted since then. . We were now in with a pack of about 5 or 6runners in this section . In one spot , a runner from behind yelled out "This sure beats the hell out of being at work". I had to agree. It sure is nice to be let out of the cage every once in a while to play on the trails out West. Another runner in the group I recognized from Bandera in January (I had run a short bit with him on the Three Sisters Section). I overheard him talking to another runner about someone who had run HardRock and Badwater last year. I figured he must have been talking about Joe.

As I removed my camera from a side pocket to take a photo, Wayne told me that we were heading toward the highest point on the course: Gunsight Pass. From there, he said the views would be wonderful in both directions. We passed through some nice terrain en route to Gunsight .

Wayne remarked that we were ahead of his time from the previous year. Last year he finished around 10.5hrs. He said it was difficult to run even splits on this course, because second half was more difficult than first half. Following the long descent after crossing through Gunsight Pass, we would reach the lowest elevation on the course. From 25miles to 29miles, there was a long ascent. Then 29Mi to 33Mi , there was still some climbing as we had to climb back up to top of ridge (the same ridge we had run along in the beginning going opposite direction). I had studied the elevation profile in the 2 weeks leading up to the race, and knew exactly the sections he was referencing. Wayne said that he felt the scenery on the southern loop was prettier than the northern loop. (Wayne's elevation profile of OP50 course: www.oldpueblo50.com/profile.htm)

We arrived to GunSight pass and I could not believe my eyes? what a glorious sight... All downhill for a good distance! Yippee! ***$20 in gas to drive roundtrip to Austin, $20 for annual membership to HCTR, learning how to run down rocky descents : Priceless! *** All my effort to train on rocky downhill was rewarded in this next 2mile plus stretch of rocky rutty fast downhill. It was my favorite section of the course. I did stop once about 0.2mi down the grade to stop and take a photo looking back up to Gunsight. I reminded me of the final descent on Bandera course with ruts added in, and much longer in length. I did not have even a close call with my footing on the descent. I found a good rhythm and kept with it .

As the descent ended, we were on a dirt road with a slight downhill grade that lead into Helvetia Aidstation at 19mi mark. The surface appeared to have been scraped off and then compacted down. The little white-gray rocks embedded in the road surface matched the color of the dirt. Another runner in dark clothes was near me, and we were moving along. We were about a mile or so from Helvetia. There were no dropbags at Helvetia. So, I was thinking about what I needed to do at Helvetia. I decided I needed to cap-off my two water bottles, grab some PB&J, Gummi Baren and a cup of either coke or sportsdrink. Then I would back off on my pace a little bit for the first 0.5mi or mile out of Helvetia to let the stomach settle. The resume my pace heading toward the next climb. Sounded like a good plan. It was a beautiful day weather-wise and I was really happy with how the run had gone so far. I had arrived to the event well-rested and well-trained.

Around the 18mi mark, out of nowhere, I became airborn. I had caught one of those little white rocks which was portruding above the road surface a little bit. I tried to save it but could not. In that split second, the terrible realization occurred that I was going to hit the ground with a lot of forward momentum. I flew forward and when I hit the road, my right elbow and knee took the brunt of the fall. There were a lot of those little embedded rocks in spot where I landed. When I tried to get up, I felt a cramp want to take hold in my right calf.

The runner in the dark clothes grabbed my arm and helped me up. He said "that hurt just watching it" . I told him I was okay and that it looked worse than it felt. I was lying, because it did hurt. But when I fall down, an adrenaline rush just takes over and my initial response is to pretend nothing happened an to keep going. ( I was once hit by a pickup truck while riding a bicycle. I was thrown off the bike and hit the road. I was wearing a helmet so when my head hit the road it was protected. But my clothes were torn and I had lots of road rash. After admonishing the truck driver for driving in the bike lane, I tried to get back on my bicycle and keep riding. Fortunately witnesses stopped me and took my bike from me and called the police. The truck driver was held responsible for the accident. ).

A quick inspection showed a very bloody elbow and a bloody knee. I walked some steps to clear my head. Nothing seemed broken. Then I resumed running. This was the worst fall in terms of broken skin and blood that I’ve taken on the trails. It was a mile or less to Helvetia . The runner said to me "There is a saying that has been posted to many lists that goes: If God did not intend for us to run on the trails, then he would not have given us so many teeth". I laughed and it made me grateful that the fall had not been a face plant.

Soon runners from the group I had been running with to Gunsight started arriving, including Wayne. None of them had seen the fall, because it happened after I had rounded a bit of a bend in the road. A runner in an orange shirt went by me, and then caught a rock and fell down. I did not feel so bad now, these little white rocks were tricky and sneaky. He suffered some broken skin on his forearm. He got up and continued running with the group.

Reaching Helvetia, it was around 3:35 (elapsed time) into the run. I had my water bottles capped-off, ate some PB&J, gummi baren , and drank two cups of coke. I then got a wet paper towel and wiped off the blood from my elbow and knee. The cuts and abrasions looked worse to me now, than they had when I inspected them after falling. I told the aid station people I was okay, and wanted to continue on. One volunteer pointed to a notch on the horizon, and said that is where we were heading. Sounded good to me. The little bit of time I spent standing still at Helvetia, allowed my knee to start stiffening up .

Leaving Helvetia., the knee hurt to get going again so I walked some. I felt really bad, like the bottom had fallen out.. In retrospect I must have been in some sort of shock. I watched as the group of runners I had been with dashed off into the distance one by one . It was a long flat stretch. I thought I had not taken any more photos after I fell, but when the film came back from processing it turns out I had taken one more photo in this stretch which looked forward to the notch on the horizon.

The next 31miles were an emotional roller coaster. Even when I tried to run, it was just a shuffle. It was 6miles to the next aid station. I could not believe I was feeling so awful so early in the race. At first I wanted to irrationally blame it on the coke I drank.. but deep down I knew it was due to the fall. How quickly things had changed from zipping along to crawling along like a snail. My hopes of breaking 11hours were beginning to fade. The runner whom I had recognized from Bandera was the last of the group to pass by me. As he passed me, he said something about "What a beautiful day we have for running another 50k". I replied with a comment agreeing about the beautiful weather. However, it was easier for my mind to handle "another 6miles to the half-way point" than "50km to the finish line". And my mind went negative for a while. The thought of walking it in for 50Km was horrible. Then I thought of my Dad ..... When people would whine and wuss out on something, his name for them was "Candy Ass". When I was growing up, he would tell me "Linda, you cannot be a Candy Ass in life, you have to try , you have to make an effort." It made me laugh a little bit thinking about Dad. This pulled me out of the negative mental state and into damage control mode so I could stabilize my mental state.

After some thought, I concluded that there were three possible outcomes to this day:

1) My condition would stay the same (not get better or worse), and I would have to shuffle and walk it in to finish. This was not a cheerful thought….. 31miles of slow crawl. But I still had a little over 11hours before the 15hr cut-off and a flashlight in my dropbag at 40miles, so it was doable . Then I thought of the pretty buckle. Yes, I could trudge for 50k.

2) My condition could worsen. If my knee and/or ankle joint started swelling or tightening up then out of avoiding injury I would have to stop. This is the first time in a race that I have thought that a DNF might happen.

3) My condition might improve. I thought of what Gordie A said in the 2001 WS100 PBS Documentary.: "If a runner can just get through that devasting low, often time things do get better." I know he was referring to the fatigue which can hit in the latter sections of a 100miler, but possibly it could apply also to the mental and physical hurting that resulted from nasty falls. One can always hope.

I thought about the runner who fell at Crosstimbers50Mi two years ago early in the run , split open his chin and not only finished but won the event. He ended up needing surgery to his jaw/chin. Then I thought of other runners whose early falls in an event eventually took them out of a race. It could go either way.

I decided to hope for Outcome #3, that if I hung in there things might get better . I could at least focus on the thought and try to will it into existence. About that time two runners went by me. One was wearing a white and blue WS100 shirt from 1998. Seeing the WS shirt made me realize my sub-11hr test had been corrupted by the fall, but I could still use OP50 as a good training run for WS in June from a ‘ time-on-the-feet standpoint’. I might even be able to finish under 12.5-13 hours if things got better.

The flat section ended and we started climbing some , continuing toward the aid station at 25miles. My elbow and arm were bleeding again. There was blood slowly creeping down the backside of my arm and it had reached half-way to my wrist. There were more cattle guards and gates in this section. One gate did not open, it was necessary to crawl over it. My initial thought was to try to go around it, but I was only met with barbed wire…. A runner near me (who must have run the course before) said you have to crawl over this gate, unless you are one of those types that LIKES barbed wire. His comment was made jokingly, but caught me off-guard… of course I did not like barbed wire. And I replied to him, "no, I’m not one of those types". In retrospect, I think it was all the blood on my right arm that motivated his comment.

About a half-mile before reaching the aid station at 25miles, I started feeling a little better. I remembered I had a can of RedBull in my dropbag at 25mi aid station :-) I was looking forward to some Red Bull .

In this 0.5mi another runner caught up to me and he commented on my elbow, which led to a short conversation. Arriving into the aid station, I got Boost and Red Bull from my dropbag. It was time to start the long 4mile uphill that Wayne had mentioned earlier. A volunteer asked if I wanted any first aid for my elbow or knee. I thanked him but told him no. It seemed useless to take the time to wipe off the blood when it would just continue to bleed more (when I would bend my elbow or knee too much, the cuts would break open and bleed more). Plus if I stood still too long, the knee would stiffen up and it would hurt to get going again.

The 4mi ascent was actually on a dirt road. There was considerable amount of vehicular traffic on the road. Fortunately dust was not a problem (probably because it had rained/snowed the two days before the race). I like uphills. Long ascents encourage patience. I used this time to gain some perspective on my situation and to regroup. All the hill repeats I’ve done at McKinney Roughs helped me in this section. I would run some, then walk some, run some , then walk some.. slowly dragging myself up the grade trying to keep my place… slightly in front of the runner who made the barbed wire comment and to keep the runner ahead of me in my sight (the runner whom I had spoken with right before entering the Aid station at 25miles). About 75% the way up, I lost sight of the runner ahead of me. A new runner that I had not seen before , with sunglasses and his bib number pinned to back of his shorts, had a very strong powerwalk and went by me. We spoke briefly as he passed .

In the final 25% of the climb, there were some tight curves. One vehicle that passed by me, stopped , then backed up. The driver rolled down her side window and asked if I needed any help for my arm. I thanked her and said I was okay. The elbow had become quite the conversation piece. Looking at the arm, the blood was now down to my wrist. I felt like a bloody monster in a horror movie that kept moving forward (albeit slowly). Another reason to laugh.

Reaching the top of the ascent, I was closing in on the aid station at 29miles: California Gulch. Entering the aid station, a volunteer was assigned to me. All I wanted was PB&J and the Boost from my dropbag. The volunteer asked about my elbow. I told her that it had been like this since 18mi mark and I was trying to ignore it, and she understood. I left California Gulch, gave the stuffed javelina an obligatory kiss, and was off along the single track. This is the section we had traversed in opposite direction in the morning. The sections of pasture/field were no longer frost covered. It was good to be back on rocky single track and off the dirt road. I was feeling a little better. One runner , with an orangish-yellow shirt passed me. There were also several loose dogs in this section. The dogs were friendly. I was able to run a good amount in this section, even though it was net uphill. A while later I came upon the runner that I recognized from Bandera. I said "hello again" as I went by him, but he said nothing in return (nothing that I heard). A while later the trail crossed through a dry creek/gulch. I could not see where the trail picked up. Fortunately another runner came from behind me, and he pointed to the trail. We ran together for a short section, then I went on.

The terrain was becoming familiar and I knew I was closing in on the next aid station: Granite Mountain at 33miles. There is a descent leading into this aid station, and I caught back up with the runner who I had met coming into the 25mi aid station. He recognized me and said something like "you must be feeling better". I told him I felt like I was back from the dead. Pat Coates was working at this aid station. I was happy to see her, but did not expect to see her until the 40mi aid station (there had been some last minute changes, and she was working this aid station instead). She noticed my elbow and asked if I needed help. I told her I’d been running with it like this the last 15miles, and I just wanted to keep going. It felt good to be feeling better, I wasn’t back to 100% but I was at least back in the saddle and beyond just trying to shuffle and survive.

Leaving Granite Mountain, my watch read 6:57 (elapsed time). Doing the math, it meant I had 4hours to cover the next 17 miles to finish under 11hours. For the first time since I fell, I felt I might still have a shot at breaking 11hours since I was feeling better.… I only needed to average between 14 and 15 minutes per mile for the last 17miles…and it seemed I might be able to do that . I knew from the elevation profile there were a couple more significant climbs in the final 10miles. I decided to run everything I could between here and the next aid station at 40miles…. Maybe I could get some time back in the bank for those final climbs. With a new plan in my hand, I was filled with optimism. In this section there were more cattle guard crossings and probably 8-10 water crossings. I managed to keep dry feet through all the water crossings.. there were ample rocks to step on and having gortex shoes on, I could get the shoes in 1-2inches of water but feet would remain dry. Also in this section I caught up to and passed the runner who had passed me with the strong power walk on the long 4mi ascent. (he was still wearing sunglasses, and bib number on back of his shorts). Arriving into the aid station at 40mile mark, my drop bag was already out for me. Boost and another can of Red Bull. It was 8:27 elapsed time. I had averaged around 13min/mi in that section and had put time in the bank for the upcoming ascents .. there was still hope for sub-11. Two volunteers were helping me. One volunteer asked about my elbow. I replied that the elbow and knee were numb, and I was hoping they would stay that way for 10 more miles. The other volunteer had been at the 25mi aid station and remembered me.. He said "at least the elbow and knee have stopped seeping". This was true... it is important to be grateful for the smallest of things.

I took off again. The next aid station, which was the final aid station, was 6miles away at the 46mile mark. The next section was flat for a bit, then an uphill climb , followed by a descent and then some more rather flat stuff leading into the last aid station. . A new runner appeared behind me. A runner in pinkinsh-purple shorts. I really did not mind if he passed me, but I was trying to stay ahead of him just as motivation to keep up my pace. He was gaining on me in a flat section on a dirt road that went by campsites. I really don’t like flat stuff, and I need to work more on it because I lose time during later sections of a race when on flat terrain. Then the single track ascent started. I pulled away from him here . It was a longer climb than I expected it to be. It dumped me out on a dirt road that I think was Gardner Canyon Rd. The 6 mile stretch between the aid stations seemed longer than 6miles. In the final mile or so before reaching the final aid station, the course goes by a set of historical markers… one of them was for an old dam, another commented on "very expensive gold". Too bad I could not stop to read them.

By the time I reached the last aid station at 46miles, I had completely used the time pad I had built up. This realization made me sad. I had just under an hour for the final 4 miles to the finish.

The final stretch: In retrospect, I should have taken more food from this aid station. Leaving the last aid station, Mr Pink shorts was on my tail again. There was another gate which led to a baby climb, then we crossed a dirt road and then a decent climb out of a gulch (Kentucky Gulch?) up to a ridge. Beginning this climb I saw two runners ahead of me. The climb did not seem difficult, just time consuming. Reaching the ridge , I went into a slump and my elbow and knee were no longer numb. The trail meandered around. I came upon Geri and another person walking the trail in the opposite direction. I figured I’d covered about 2miles since the last aid station. I asked Geri "How much farther to the finish"? she replied "3-ish miles". Not what I wanted to hear. I could not believe I had only gone a mile since leaving that aid station. Looking at my watch, I knew it was going to be close. I could now see to my left in the distance some metal shimmering in the sunlight… it was the group of vehicles parked above Kentucky Camp, the finish. The trail was not heading in that direction which was mentally tough to deal with, so I just stopped looking over there. Those two runners ahead of me would disappear from my sight. I was tired of fighting for the sub-11. I wanted to stop and walk it in. The little voice in my head was telling me I wouldn’t make it so why try. I remembered meeting up against these voices last year at Bandera 100km. I gave in to the voices and gave up on my goal of finishing before midnight. If I had continued trying , I could have made it before midnight despite being cold. I did not want to fall prey to that mistake again. I emptied out the water bottle in my waist pack to lighten the load, and started running again. I was running 20-30 steps, walking 10 in this section trying to keep going. The trail finally dropped off the ridge. I caught up with two people walking? a man and a woman. I thought one might be a pacer, but not sure. They let me around them and I said thank you. Then the woman started running with me. It was not until she said to me "I still can’t believe how you can run downhill on rocks" that I realized she was the strong uphill runner I had leapfrogged with earlier in the run before I fell. I told her I had not recognized her, and that I felt on the edge of delirium.... She explained that the runner she had been walking with had gone out too hard trying to set a new course record and was in bad shape. She herself had gotten off course in one section. She started talking about how unsettling it was to be able to see the shiny cars and the trail was not heading in that direction. I really did not want to go there mentally, I was just managing to hold on as it was. Just then we came to yet another gate, and I said "well, not anymore it looks like we are finally making the turn left!". Saved by a simple gate and turn in the trail. We ran some more together, and she told me that she thought ultrarunners were insane…...she said she was from Tucson and the person she had come with had probably finished 2 hours earlier and was waiting for her (in retrospect I think the friend she was referring to was Pam Reed). There was an uphill, and I stopped to walk… she said that she did not understand this ultrarunning thing about walking up hills and she ran tick-tick-tick up the hill. She said if there was another downhill coming up that I’d catch back up with her, and we both laughed.

The uphill broke what little bit of rhythm I had going. I was Hurtin' Murton. My knee was hurting going up the hill. Reaching the top, the trail entered into in a field and meandered forward. How much further I wondered, as I watched the runner disappear around a curve in the trail. The little negative voices returned with a vengeance: "You are not going to make it under 11hours, you should just walk it in from here. It won’t hurt as bad if you walk". So I walked some, then I felt guilty for giving in to the voices. So I started to run again. I had to keep trying . It’s not over until it is over, and there was still time on the clock, although it was dwindling quickly. A woman was walking the opposite direction on the trail and asked me "do you think you will make it in before 5pm?" I replied " I am trying to". She must have read my mind. It was a constant battle with the negative voices. It sure seemed longer than 4miles to me. I’d walk some then run some. I knew each step I could run instead of walk mattered. I heard noise from behind me. It was another runner, a woman with dark hair. I stepped out of the way to let her pass by. I would later find out, from reading her race report, that she was Andrea Feucht from New Mexico. I watched as she disappeared around another bend in the trail (she would finish in the knick of time for sub-11: 10:59:53 !).

Finally I reached a gate and could see the buildings of Kentucky Camp on top of a hill. One more gate to open and close. My watch read 10:58;something. I felt like crying. It was coming down to the stupid wire. I wished my knee and body would stop hurting so I could run hard. I had felt better than this at the end of SD100. As I approached the first building (which was on top of a hill) I could not see where the trail went, and some spectators pointed me in right direction. Part way up the hill, my watch clicked over to 11hours. At least I did not have to hear a horn blow in the background.

I continued up and around the building and met up with a little boy carrying a stopwatch. He told me to run as fast as I could to the finish and he would time me. I wanted to tell him it did not matter. 11 hours had passed. But he was really serious about his job, so I spared him my take on the whole situation and ran. The finish line was finally in sight. I crossed at 11:01:20.

The finish line was a welcomed sight for very tired eyes, a hurting knee and elbow. I was really happy to see two familiar faces greet me at the finish line: Tom Crull and Pat Coates. Tom was standing by the race clock, and he got a mouthful of my rambling and frustration . My disappointment was short-lived though, because I was done and could sit down. In the big picture, I had been close enough to 11hrs to call it even. Tom said I looked a mess and he took my water bottles, knee brace and waist pack from me. Pat had been working at the 33mi aid station, so she knew about the cuts/abrasions from my fall. Tom and Pat got me to the first aid folks. Thanks to Tom for his help at the finish, and also for telling me about OP50 a year ago now and encouraging me to enter the 2004 event.

Even though I missed my sub-11hr goal, I am glad that I did not give up trying to achieve it (like I had done at Bandera 100k last year when I became cold in the final 10mi). I venture to say that I learned more at OP50 about myself because of the falling incident, than I would have if the incident had not occurred. I am satisfied with the 11:01 finish; I worked hard for it. So the fall did not completely corrupt my self-contrived test. But had I not fallen, I think I would have finished around 10:30-10:40.

I had not let anyone at any of the aid stations deal with the elbow or knee.... I just wanted to keep moving during the run. Now that I was finished, the volunteers could do whatever they felt was necessary to take care of the injured areas. My knee was bloody (I think the brace protected the knee somewhat from the impact). The elbow was worse... blood was down the back of my arm to my wrist. there was gravel embedded in it. The first aid folks treated and cleaned the cuts at the finish line, but could not get all of the gravel out of the elbow... so the decision was made that I should go to hospital. Before leaving for the hospital, I had a chicken sandwich , chili with saltines, soda and coffee.. I sat at the same picnic table as Britt. I fully expected to see Britt enjoying a rotisserie chicken as he had after Ouachita, but he was just sitting there bundled up in warm clothes. He broke 10hours at OP50 , which had been his goal.

Pat Coates drove me to a hospital ER in Tucson in my rental car. It was still daylight when we left Kentucky Camp, but dark when we reached the hospital. It was a long night.. We did not leave hospital until 3:30am.... 4.5 hr wait time just to get to an exam room. I got a tetanus shot, x-rays taken of elbow and knee, and cleanup of the cuts. There were no broken bones (I did not think there would be) and no bone chips . Pat then drove me back to my hotel room, and her husband Wayne (who ran OP50) came and picked her up at my hotel at 4am and brought me my dropbags. Many thanks to Pat and Wayne for their help.

I enjoyed OP50. I thought the course was fun. It would have been even more fun had I not taken that fall, but such is life. The buckle is beautiful. I more than got my money's worth from the experience. Thanks to Duane and Julie Arter and the volunteers for putting on a well-organized and fun event.

I only slept 3 hours that night. I woke-up at 7:15am and could not go back to sleep. So I packed up my stuff, went for breakfast and had time to drive through the West section of Saguaro National Park before my flight departed back to Houston. I had no muscle soreness in my quads which made me happy.. they are getting stronger for downhills.

A few days after the race, Wayne sent me the data from the GPS he was wearing during OP50. The data lends some credibility to my belief that the last two stretches of trail were longer than stated (6mi and 4mi respectively):

On Monday and Tuesday, four more bruises appeared on my right side. On Wednesday I had a bad headache and neck ache (not sure if that was a delayed response to the fall or not). On Saturday, a week after the event, I was able to run 13miles with no pain in the knee joint. So I believe that the knee and elbow joints were spared any permanent damage. Although the skin is still not back to normal, I expect it to be healed in another week..