Running With The Devil 50 mi

I love Summer running. I found this race online and just had to put it on my calendar. Temperatures were expected to top 110 F. It was a 50-mile desert race in Nevada, 30 minutes from the strip in Las Vegas, along the western shore of Lake Mead in the Mojave Desert. Although it wasn't a trail race, it was an ultra, and I was really excited about running in the heat over rolling hills. I left work at noon the day before to drive out and spend the night in the Hotel and Casino Hacienda; the host hotel. It was a long hot drive in my truck with the AC fan broken. I chalked it off as some more good training. Getting up early, I made the short drive over to the staging area in the dark and watched the sun just begin to peek over the horizon as I parked along the shoreline. Western States had been burned out, so there were several runners who made a surprise showing here, instead. Xy and Fred were two of them. It was cool to see them. They've both run Badwater before, as well, and someday, I'd like to follow in their footsteps. Joyce, the appropriate for the theme smoking hot RD, welcomed us all to her little desert run (heh heh), had us check in and weighed in, wished us luck, and with very little fanfare started what would be a fateful journey for many. I went out fast and furious. I figured I'd get as much run behind me as I could while the temperatures were still in the 80s. I love running in the heat, but that doesn't mean you make good forward progress in it. You gotta take every advantage you can when the temperatures soar. At one aid station they had a huge bathtub-like tank ready to be filled with a runner and a boat load of ice in case of a heat emergency. It was a sobering sight on the way out, to say the least. Could it get that bad? As I returned from the turnaround point I could look way ahead and see miles of road with no aid stations, but suddenly they would appear out of nowhere; always a surprise, always beyond welcome, and absolutely ice-erific! At several of them, including the turnaround point, we were weighed. Once, I weighed exactly what I did at the start and once I weighed a pound off. Then, I miraculously gained 12 pounds over just a few miles. Holy shnikees, Batman! Not to worry, it's been doing that, I was told. Wow, that's good. One can put a lot of thought into a moment when pressured to. I had horrific visions of nasty purging to get all that water and aid station junk out of my system quickly. What?! Was I having visions in the desert heat? Speaking of visions, I don't remember seeing any of those shimmering heat waves that rise up from hot pavement. I definitely felt the hot blasting midday desert wind that feels like a blow dryer in your face, though. Fortunately, the heat never really got me and I was able to hold a good pace the whole way. I actually had way more in the tank the last 10 miles than I expected I would. I was literally sprinting. I remember talking to one guy about 12 miles out from the start. He had only run marathons until then. This was his first 50 mile race. I told him very sincerely he should manage his pace and save some for the last 10 miles. He smiled and later pulled away from me like he was going to a fire; most appropriate for a Run with the Devil, one would think, but, I would see him again in a chair at an aid station around mile 30 throwing up on himself from under his big straw hat. He looked pretty rough, but then got up, said he felt great now, and off he went again. While dunking my towels in the ice bucket one last time, I looked up to see a woman in a little Toyota had pulled up and said some guy had just fallen flat on his face up around the turn. Yup, you guessed it, that's as far as he got. A guy in the aid station jumped in a vehicle to go get him. I didn't see him again after that. I had been talking to a really nice runner named Juliet since about the turnaround point. She had also left me behind for a while, but I found her hanging out in that aid station, as well. I think that aid station was there to eat runners. She also left after telling me she would see me down the road a ways. Unfortunately, just as I caught up to her, she and several others jumped into a vehicle, she hollered thanks, that the heat was just too much, and caught a ride to the finish line. The heat was taking out some otherwise great runners. The driver of that vehicle returned later and told me Juliet was feeling better and had said thanks again. This was about the time I began catching up to runners from the marathon and half marathon. Several looked at me sideways as I went by. I greeted the first few cheerfully until several looked at me less than amused. I decided not saying anything would be more appropriate. One wondered aloud why I saved so much for the second half. When I told her it was actually the last eighth, it dawned on her that I was one of the 50 milers. She expressed her amazement at how much energy I still had. I told her I was running on pure delirium. It's more painful than it looks. She laughed and actually picked up her pace a bit. That's the spirit! There are always bigger fish in the pond, do your thing, do it your way, but most important, have fun doing it. Gawd, I love spunk! She finished! I saw her afterwards with a huge smile on her face. I know that smile. I've had it. I've seen it. Go runner! Wet towels, icy water buckets, and ice-cold Coca Cola got me through this one. OK, years of running in several deserts certainly didn't hurt, either. I managed to come in second place overall. Way cool for a smokin hot run near Las Vegas, Nevada! Found out later the temperature peaked at 112 F!