Pacing at the Vermont 100

I love this race. And I love Vermont. After crewing for good friend Brian and pacing a runner at Vermont last year, I vowed that I would come back the following year. But like so often, I got busy and nearly gave up any thought of being at Vermont in 2010. But as the time approached, I couldn’t stand it anymore, and with one quick email, I had found a runner in need of a pacer. Greg Esbitt, a 36 year old runner from Salam, Mass, was in need of someone to hang out with him those last 30 miles and I was it! This was Greg’s first attempt at 100 miles but based on his past race times (50k’s and 50 milers), I was terrified that I would not be able to keep up with him. I first had a chance to meet Greg at the 30 mile aid station, and he was strong. His pace was steady and consistent. It was hot as hell (quite a bit hotter than last year), but he seemed to know all the tricks to stay cool and I learned much later that he LOVES running in the heat. Bonus!!

Ten Bear - Mile 50 aid station Greg came in within 30 minutes of the time I had predicted, so as my job got closer, my anxiety level rose ever greater. I did mathematical predictions 1000 times over, hoping I had made an error and that I would not end up in a position of having to apologize to my runner at mile 72 that I just couldn’t keep up. But by mile 70, Greg had slowed and I regained a bit of confidence. Greg had a great handler – Doug – who was there every step of the way. I don’t know how he did it, considering he was also serving as handler for Greg’s buddy, Jeff, who finished about 90 minutes (I think) behind us. We hit the trail sometime around 7:30 p.m. and headed straight up the biggest climb of the entire final 30 miles. Last year, my runner, Kyra and I, named the hill MF Mountain….and it didn’t feel any different this year. But it’s good to get those things out of the way early….. We trudged, and trudged, and trudged up that mountain, and cruised right along. Greg did well from mile 70-80, but his quads were killing him by mile 80 and we really slowed to a walk/shuffle for the remaining 20 miles. The most enjoyable part of any run is meeting new people and sharing the “suffering” together. Everyone at this point was doing one version or another of the “shuffle”. Many versions of the “shuffle” had an interesting twist – which included a strange gyration of the hips intended to shift their running shorts into a position of less friction and thus less chafing of ones “privates”. We met a woman along the way looking for something sharp that she could use to remove the interior panties from her running shorts that were causing her trouble. Greg was also suffering from chaffing which makes for interesting conversation between two people who only recently met. Ah, the joys of running in the heat.

The hours cruised by and Greg, and all the runners were getting tired. I realized about 11:40 p.m. that I was about to turn 49 years old – the Vermont 100 is my birthday weekend. So rather than continuing to come up with stupid, random things to say to Greg and other runners nearby, I started telling everyone that it was almost my birthday. I asked everyone to say, yell, sing, scream or whatever they could do at midnight. And much to my surprise, at midnight, exhausted Greg SANG happy birthday to me. It was very exciting and knowing at this point that he was like dead-man-walking, I was very impressed. A couple of hours later three men sang happy birthday to me in perfect harmony – “happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear…”, silence, I shouted “ALISON”, they repeated “Alison, happy birthday to you”. It was the best birthday wish ever.

So, on we marched - 1:00 a.m. - 2:00 a.m. - 3:00 a.m. - 4:00 a.m. and with 4:00 a.m., went Greg’s hope of finishing within 24 hours and receiving the coveted buckle. As we learned later, dozens of people dropped from the race because of heat related issues – so buckle or no buckle, finishing this race was the prize. At this point, we were 3 or 4 miles from the finish, and regardless of the pain, Greg picked up the pace. He called it a walk – I called it running. I jogged beside him those final few miles as the sun was beginning to lighten up the horizon. Exhaustion had definitely taken over and both of us were zombies, but with each minute, Greg’s pace became more and more determined. The birds were beginning to chirp their morning songs and from a distance we could hear the sounds of the finish line. We finally passed a sign that said “mile 99”!!!! From that moment on, I had a very hard time holding back tears of joy for Greg. Greg is a quiet guy….doesn’t seem terribly talkative or emotional, so being the girl, I handled that part for him. He doesn’t know it, but I cried the entire final mile….and when we passed the sign that said mile 99.5, I could hardly breathe. And there, not far ahead, were the finish line lights. We ran toward them together and I shouted “75” (Greg’s number) and people started cheering. He did it!!! 25 hours and 8 minutes! Holy hell…how can anyone do that?

Danny and I headed back to our campsite where we napped, and napped, and napped, and napped. In fact, we napped until it was time to go out for my birthday dinner, but I was not feeling well at all. We went to a place called Skunk Hollow for dinner where, as it turned out, the Vermont 100 race committee was celebrating. They gave a beautiful toast to the former race director’s daughter who took over for him after his passing two years ago. Yes, I was eavesdropping, and yes, I cried again when I heard the toast. The volunteers of this race (or any ultra, for that matter) are amazing. And crying is simply not an option. This is the greatest sport on earth and I consider myself incredibly lucky to have a small place in it. But I digress from my birthday dinner story. Danny and I ordered “dinner for two” which included salad’s, beef tip Creole, and a dessert. Well, of course we ordered a bottle of wine too. I was feeling crummier and crummier as the evening progressed, so Danny ate every bite of “our” birthday dinner, including the homemade raspberry ice cream and the bottle of wine.

This is such a long blog entry, but to summarize and to throw in a few things I haven’t already mentioned……Greg is awesome. What a run and a great guy. I got to see, up close, both Andy Wilkins Jones and Kami Semick – two of the world’s top elite ultra runners and naturally, they finished appropriately. Andy was first, and Kami was third, but first woman overall. We sort of hung out with Andy’s mom most of the day. She was a hoot and I enjoyed hearing her stories. And Kami’s pacer was Ron Abramson, who Danny had a chance to chat with for quite some time. When Kami ran into Ten Bear at mile 70, I looked at Ron and said “that’s who you’re pacing??? She’s gonna kick your ASS”. Amazing athletes! Ron included. What a race. What an experience.

Vermont is a lush, green, beautiful place. Danny and I will be back for my next birthday – July 18th, 2011, when I turn 50. I wish I could pace 50 miles (wouldn’t that make sense?)….if Greg doesn’t need me, I may look for a 60+ year old who wants a pacer for the second half of the race (when you turn 60, you can have a pacer for the entire race). While I feel overwhelmed training for a 50 miler in Michigan, being in Vermont for this race makes me feel like I could accomplish anything - except for 100 miles which I will NEVER do!