Date: August 3, 2018
Distance: 31 miles (50 K)
Purpose: learn how to run at night…and enjoy it
It is inevitable over the course of a 100-mile run that you
will be running into the growing darkness, through the heart of darkness, and
out of the darkness and into dawn. I have run into the growing darkness and I
have run out of the darkness and into the dawn. I had never before run through
the heart of darkness, or in other words, the core hours of deep REM sleep
where there is no hint of either sunset or sunrise on any horizon. So the
Millcreek 50K was a natural must-do for me to see how the body would react to a
pure night run. I would need to become comfortable with the nights for the
Wasatch Run coming up.
This is a semi-organized run that starts at Big Water
Trailhead at the top of Millcreek Canyon at 9 pm, heads towards the Park City
Ridgeline, turns west at Red Lovers Ridge into the Desolation Lake drainage,
flattens out and across to Dog Lake, around Dog Lake and under Reynolds Peak
and Gobbler’s Knob past Butler Fork, into Mill A, skirting across to the Mount
Raymond pass, onto new trails for me by going back down to the Pipeline Trail
in Millcreek Canyon, and then finishing with a 7 mile round trip up and down the
east face of Grandeur Peak.
It was a cool and clear night to begin with. I kept my
dreaded headlamp off for as long as possible, borrowing off other runners
lights while I was still running in the pack. By Desolation Lake, it was too
dark and sketchy so I finally turned on my headlamp. I have never enjoyed
headlamps, oddly enough. I always prefer night activities using the full moon
wherever possible. But there was no moon to speak of on August 3, 2018. Headlamps for me seem to bounce around
constantly, lose light and battery power readily, and annoy incessantly. This night was no different. I had almost no
light by Elbow Fork aid station. Luckily, those kind volunteers at the aid
station had an extra pack of AAA batteries stashed away, and they swapped out
old batteries for new. At the same time they tightened my headlamp, making for
a much better running experience for the last 10 miles after Elbow.
Thankfully.
The biggest challenge after that point was poor air quality while
climbing Grandeur Peak. The 2018 summer fire season has been one of the worst
on record, especially in California. The “downwind” smoke from California was
especially thick while climbing Grandeur. My clothing smelled like I had been
around a campfire all weekend after the race. I got mentally lazy in the last
mile and had a full swan-dive trip on the trail, resulting in some bloody hands
and knees for me. One wrong step on a running trail at night will result in
eating the dust, quite literally. I ended up finishing around 3:00 am. It was
the most underwhelming finish line ever – just 2 people there with a headlamp
and a cooler of water congratulating me. I was still pumped and so I couldn’t
fall asleep until 5:00 am. I was a grumpy, underslept, sore, dude the next day,
to say the least. I only wish I could have seen more of these new trails in
Millcreek.
Running at night takes nerves, focus, and concentration due
to the low light conditions from using just your headlamp. Every shadow could
be an animal or a goblin, watching you through the trees with scary yellow eyes
n, just like in the cartoons. It also takes courage to fight off the
overwhelming demand that the body makes for sleep, or at least a burst of rest
here and there. I call this “The Sleep Monster”. It sounds like every night
runner deals with this monster at some point during a heart-of-darkness run. I
tried to fight it by turning off half my brain and “sleep-running” as best I
can. Dolphins do this at night to get
some rest, as they turn off half their brain while continuously swim-sleeping.
Rory loves Dolphins so I thought of Rory. I tried to channel my inner Dolphin
as best I could. I know running is
mental, but night running all alone on unknown trails is extra mental. It’s easy to have a pity party during these
times in the middle of the night when you’re exhausted, it’s dark, and you’re
utterly alone. You have to really know why you are an ultra-runner at this
point. I found a poem that describes my feelings about night runs perfectly.
Truly, the power of agency in heart-of-darkness running
cannot be underestimated.
Invictus – Unconquered
by William Ernest
Henley
Out of the
night that covers me,
Black as the
pit from pole to pole,
I thank
whatever gods may be
For my
unconquerable soul.
In the fell
clutch of circumstance
I have not
winced nor cried aloud.
Under the
bludgeonings of chance
My heady is
bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this
place of wrath and tears
Looms but
the Horror of the shade,
And yet the
menace of the years
Finds and
shall find me unafraid.
It matters
not how strait the gate,
How charged
with punishments the scroll,
I am the
master of my fate,
I am the
captain of my soul.
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