Several days before the run, I made a plan. I spent hours on this thing. I created an Excel spreadsheet, calculated pace, figured out how much total time I would have run each mile, figured out what time I was expected to arrive at each mile and figured out how long I would run and at what time I would finish. I figured out where my milestones were, when I would eat, when and how long I would break, when and how long I could nap. I formatted the spreadsheet so it would be easy to read and leave enough room to mark my progress. I printed it out on 11×17 paper and laminated it so moisture would not dampen the paper.

It was perfect! And it was sitting on my kitchen table 250 miles away. Already, my plans were changing.

No panic. I could calculate the time in my head. I really did not need the guide. And I did calculate each mile’s pace and the time of expected arrival. And it worked, for about the first six miles. When Chad, who saw the plan, asked me where we were suppose to be, I answered by saying I didn’t know and that we were doing fine. Steinbeck had it right “The best laid plans of mice and men…”

The first ten miles went exactly as we expected. We cruised at a thirteen minute pace. We walked the first and last quarter mile of the loop. We ate and drank twenty to thirty ounces of water and hour. We did not stop for a break until mile ten, quickly grabbing handfuls of food as we past the aid station and then continuing on. I was hooked on the homemade granola. This staple kept me going until it ran out at about mile six. So I grabbed Oreos at mile 8 and 10. At mile ten, we used the restroom and took off clothing because the weather warmed. We rested for no more than five minutes.

Miles 10 through 20 were also quite uneventful. Chad and I were talking and having a good time. We were both positive and even a bit giddy. We looked forward to the time when we were going to have our first 100 mile buckles. We handled our pace well, walking when we found we were going too fast. And we never strayed away from the sections we were suppose to walk, no matter how much energy we had.

It was at this time we met Tracy. Chad had met Tracy before but I only knew her from Facebook. I had completely missed her in the last race. We chatted for a bit and moved on. We also met Heywood. Now Heywood is what I hope to be. This is a man that just muscles past any discomfort he has to finish as much as he could. He had also sorts of issues that would put another man in an infirmary. But he was always friendly, always ready to chat and all the while, never stray away from his slow and constant pace. Every time we met Heywood, we would run and chat for a bit. I think he was the beacon that told me I could do this.

Mile 20 through 30 were uneventful. We were both running well. The weather was nice, not too hot. We past mile 26 and I told Chad we just completed a marathon. He shrugged and said it didn’t feel like a marathon was a big deal any more. With all the training we had done, he was right. A marathon didn’t feel like much more than a 10K.

Mile 30 through 40, things began to go a little south for me. First, we were joined by Chad’s friend, Joe. He wanted to pace Chad for a bit of the race. He was recovering from two broken toes and had not run in a while so he was not sure how long he would be able to go. But Chad told me he was in great shape and a bit insane so he was sure that he would go at least twenty miles. I was fine until about mile 35 when I began to feel tightness in my left knee and my quads were beginning to tighten. I tried to lift me knees but my thighs only protested and failed to loosen. I thought it was time to work this out on my own and slow my pace down. I did not think I needed to stop running but I did need to get back on track. I told Chad and Joe to go and let me figure some things out.

When I get into these funks, I sink into myself. I do not talk and just want to be alone. Having a partner does not bode well for me. Especially one that looks fresh. The good news is that Chad and Joe were chatting happily and wouldn’t miss me. I decided to hang back and let them go. A couple of times they looked back. I just waved them on and told them to go on, I needed to be alone. Or something like that. For all I know I just grunted and waved my hand.

I bit the bullet for about a quarter mile and just slowed my pace. I wasn’t walking but I was comfortable. I remember a song entering my head and let the tones disassociate myself from the discomfort. Before I knew it, I had caught up to Chad and Joe who were walking at our designated walking spot.

They asked how I was doing and I told them I was in real pain. Joe offered some of his Advil. I had Motrin but didn’t feel like searching my bag for it. Chad said his soup was being served. I said I would have some though I feared what it would taste like. He was a vegan and coconut milk and curry soup did not sound like it would kick my cat, but I would try it. Couldn’t hurt. But first I had to get through the next quarter mile. That would be mile 40.

When I reached the aid station, I took a cup of soup and walked to our spot. I took a sip of the soup. It was good. Really good. The vegetables were great too. I wish I would have received more than the three quarters of a bowl I received. The curry, which I wasn’t sure of for taste and stomach purposes, seemed to give me a lift. And the sweet taste of the coconut milk countered the spiciness of the curry. Add in three Advil and 10 minutes of rest and I felt a lot better.

When we started running, I started gingerly at first. But I felt great. The pain that had crippled me for the last five miles had dulled and my mood was high. I started talking and running at Joe’s pace. I felt my calves strengthen and was pushing off a lot better. I was on a high. Was it the aspirin? Was it the soup? Was it the rest? Was it a combination? I didn’t know. But, all I did know was that I was going to get that soup recipe. This feeling lasted through mile 54.

At mile 42, I was still feeling great and my pace had increased. I slowed down because I was informed that it was too fast but I felt great. The sun was close to touching the horizon. I wanted to get a picture of it and asked if they thought I had another lap before the sun sank. I wanted a picture. I was assured I did. So I didn’t take my camera.

I was wrong. Dusk had come and the sun was gone. The mountains not only took the sun, but they took the heat. I became concerned about the cold. It would not be long before I would have to worry about gloves, jackets and kilts. Don’t ask, I’ll explain the kilt thing later.

But my concerns about the sinking sun and the cold were delayed. Alan had ordered pizza. I love pizza. I grabbed a center piece and a crust piece. The perfect mixture of cheese and bread. It was great. That was mile 44.

The next six miles were heaven. I was feeling positive and felt great. I had to be told to slow down more than once. When we passed mile 50, our time was just over twelve hours. Not great but good enough. The sun was completely down, the air was chilling, but there was no breeze so things were good.

That was probably the last time I felt good. I was thrilled at passing fifty miles. But it did not occur to me that I had fifty miles left.