Have you ever had one of those experiences that filled you with adrenaline all day? Kept you from sleeping, eating, and doing anything NORMAL like reading, playing scrabble on your iPhone or flossing?
Javalina Jundred HAPPENED on Saturday.
a true life event
I usually need about 10 hours of sleep a night, every night.
Somehow, I functioned off of three hours and managed to stay in some sort of Javelina Jigh without the use of any substance.
Before you read on, let it be known that I DID NOT RUN THIS RACE. I was the wife. It was a strange and unusual role for me because I'm usually the one racing but I FINALLY got my chance to be Sherpa, Tony Robbins, Bad Grandma and medic to my 100 ultra attempt-er, Boy Scout.
He's the "giver" in this relationship and he likes to flaunt that over me... A LOT.
Finally, a chance for me to be THE GIVER.
I couldn't wait.
I'd rally.
I drink copious amounts of coffee to stay awake.
I'd make him leave the aid station after 5 minutes, max.
I was ready. I'd read blogs on how to be the best pacer imaginable. I had jokes, jingles and funny antidotes ready to share with him in the middle of the night.
Game on. I ,too, could be "t"he giver.
We headed to HEADQUARTERS on Thursday before the race. There was already a tent city erected on top of the very place where many scorpions, tarantulas and coyotes call home. Runners and support crew peeps rent out these tents and put up their own homesteads. Some were draped with Halloween decorations, so many in fact that I felt like I was back in elementary school at our annual Halloween Carnival.
As the weekend progressed, I was proven correct. This WAS a carnival. Runners in costumes were everywhere! Spooky running mummies, clowns, jesters, brides...they all attended the event.
*Junk in a Box*
I spent the whole weekend wondering how they kept their costumes on; sweating in the 95 degree heat. Wings melted, wigs wilted, make up ran...a horror show if I'd ever seen one.
And then the bodies.
A 100 miler can do a horrible thing to bodies...in 105 degree heat(which was recorded at one aid station).
I should know.
I spent over an hour in the med tent with Boy Scout as he recovered from a violent case of vomiting and dehydration.
Or was it heat exhaustion?
Moaning was the predominant sound coming from this haunted house med tent. Runners were cramping and screaming. Some writhing. Some white, waxen and WAY TOO SILENT.
When Boy Scout was ready to stagger, I scooted him out to the start/finish crossing and seated him where he could watch all the runners coming in, refueling and heading out once again.
What better motivation?
He cooled down.
He refueled.
He re energized.
And I played Bad Grandma.
*Ready to head out once again*
And, the day(and night)continued.
I had no way of knowing where he was during the next loop. I could only hope and pray that he hadn't been sick and wasn't throwing up under a cactus, curled up in a ball along the trail with scorpions and tarantulas and rattle snakes crawling all over him. I had actually heard(afterwards)that there were some runners in this condition(minus the reptiles). This vision became too much for me and at about 4:30 p.m. , despite the fact that BS's two SUPER PACERS were about to arrive(and my cell phone died), I took off running up to the next aid station to check on my Haunted Hubby.
After a few hours, a run back with an un-costumed, very nice man, I returned to Head Quarters with the news that, yes, BS had been sick and couldn't continue without a headlamp and a shirt.
It was now NIGHT TIME.
In the desert.
Still 80 degrees.
Super Pacer #1 was off. With his invisible cape and mask, he was driven by four wheeler up to BS with head lamp and shirt in hand and then continued on with the death march. BS was NOT eating, not drinking and felt like *&)(*). Never, ever a good sign in an ultra at mile 40. However, relentless-forward-motion happened.
**About this time, I headed back to our hotel to eat and *try* to sleep. Then returned to Head Quarters.**
Super Pacer #2 assumed duties and let BS take a nap in the tent for 20 mins. Then, filling him with a hot dog and chicken soup which was a total B-12-like experience for him , sent him on into the night ready to fight. Or not. The night got long, the trails were rocky, words and moans were spoken(well, maybe no one heard those words and they were just in his head)but somewhere along that long, long, hot trail, BS decided he'd settle for the 100k. So he did.
No regrets.
No tears(or at least Super Pacer #2 didn't tell me about them-it's a guy thing I guess).
No pouting.
Earned a 100k belt buckle.
We packed up at 3:30ish a.m., headed back to the hotel and SLEPT like zombies until mid-morning.
So now, the NEW plans and plotting have begun.
The next 100 miler is being pondered and planned.
The NEW training for the next HOT 100 Miler is being studied.
Moving Forward and not looking back is in play.
My husband appreciates punishment and wants to beat this 100 miler thing.
SOOOOO proud of my ghoulish man.
I must also express my admiration and gratefulness to ALL of the Javelina Jundred runners, those that finished and those that met their demise but will rise once again.
Although often eeri, I saw faces of joy, anguish, determination, fortitude and love out there in the Arizona desert and I will never forget some of the finest performances of athletes anywhere.
Truly a carnival of tough, BIG HEARTED runners, volunteers and the finest ultra event planners ever.
Congratulations HONEY and everyone! I KNOW that Javelina will be an ultra that we'll want to attend every year.
Hauntingly Amazing!
