Close to the end of the course there was a group of local school children and their teachers who were supporting Anthony. When they recognized me, I received extra special shouts of encouragement. This Turin elementary school was an exchange group with the elementary school in Bicester, Oxfordshire, England, where Anthony teaches. Anthony was running for UNICEF, and the children from both schools had received pledges for that charity.

The Finish Nears

The last 5K was extremely difficult. Crossing a bridge over the Po River, which runs through Turin, I could hardly walk straight up the initial incline and was glad to make it to the halfway point, coasting the downhill. Even with the extreme fatigue I was feeling and the dizziness that persisted, I never had any thought of dropping out. I was struggling to keep my legs turning over, now walking two or three times per kilometer and jogging as best I could. It was necessary to cross the Po once more, this time on a pedestrian bridge with uneven boards laying crosswise and covered with a green felt cloth that rucked up in parts. I negotiated this without mishap but then had to run a double spiral, narrow ramp down off the bridge, which didn’t help my dizziness!

Running a short distance more along the river, we crossed a four-lane highway. The traffic was diverted to accommodate the race. The final leg and another downhill ramp, covered this time with blue felt, led to the finish line at Palavela.

A young Italian runner had caught up to me and had been egging me on during the last 500 meters. Somehow I summoned a final spurt of energy to match his speed, and we crossed the finish line together to a great reception.

The cheers and applause were almost embarrassing. Finish line spectators had been following my progress throughout the race on an immense television screen. I had truly been made Turin’s hero of the day, finishing in 3:20:01. Congratulations from reporters, race officials, and spectators engaged me for several minutes until Anne, my other son, Michael, and his wife Joanna, our two grandchildren, and Anthony found me and gave me recovery drinks, candy bars, pasta, and other tidbits. Race director Luigi Chiabrera gave me a big hug, telling me that I was “il uomo del giorno,” man of the day. It took four hours for the dizziness to pass, but I felt better later and set to some serious carboreloading.

Joseph Chebet of Kenya was the open winner with 2:08:23, his time confirming just how fast the Turin Marathon course is. The women’s winner was Janis Salumae of Estonia, who ran 2:27:04.

At the awards ceremony I received a spectacular plaque from the city of Turin. It is a silver rectangle with two gold medals inset on either side, one

John Keston IN YOUR DREAMS ® 65

depicting the ancient Roman walls of the city and the other a map of 17th century Turin. It is housed in a plush black presentation case, and I value this highly, as it represents not just the Turin Marathon, but the camaraderie, hospitality, fellowship of running, and the good friends made in Italy.

Two months after the marathon I received my first-place age-category award, areal gold medal, bigger than one inch in diameter, quite thin but bearing the Turin Marathon logo embossed in colored enamel. It is a beautiful work of art and the only real gold medal I’ve won in 17 years of running.

The evening after the race, the family went to supper at a country inn with Italian friends of Anthony’s. We dined heartily, drank fine Piemonte wine, and enjoyed the banter of our Italian friends, who thought Anthony and I were crazy to have subjected ourselves to the tortures of 42,195 meters. Anthony had bettered his London Marathon time by three minutes, finishing in 3:02:40. We parted company after dinner. Michael and his family returned with Anne and me fora few more days back in Sestriere. Anthony would leave for England the next day, so he stayed with friends in Turin.

BACK TO SESTRIERE

The Monday after the marathon, back in Sestriere, I went by the grocery to pick up a baguette, and Carlos was effusive about the TV coverage I had received. “Piu dei Kenyans,” “More than the Kenyans,” he told me. Many of the villagers had seen /’americano on TV. [had impressed the community, and I was toasted in the grocery store with “Grappa.” Giuseppe’s wife had recorded the event on videotape. Along with a bottle of homemade wine, the tape was presented to Anne and me by Giuseppe as a parting gift. Pictures were taken of us with Giuseppe and Carlo, I sporting aloft my treasured bottle of homemade wine. Michael and his family left for England a few days later, and Anne and I left Sestriere at the same time for a three-day driving tour of Pisa, Florence, and Milan.

Perhaps the most gratifying event of our tour culminated in our flight from Milan back to Manchester, England. We were informed at the British Airways ticket counter that we had been upgraded to cabin class. The captain, my son, Michael, had so ordered it. I was going to fly with him for the first time in his 20 years of service. I was given a seat on the flight deck for both takeoff and landing. Anne was also invited to the flight deck where landmarks in Switzerland, France, and England were pointed out. It was an extra-special flight.

Upon landing, Michael drove us to his home where we spent the next several days recuperating and enjoying family before returning to the United States. This had surely been one of our most treasured trips ever. B

SPECIAL MASTERS SECTION

Niasters . of the Ultra

ET SPS ES TE NS A ER BI AEE I SS BS Re eh

More and More Masters Are Moving Up—For Good Reason.

M ANY YOUNGER runners have been left scratching their heads at the finish line of an ultramarathon after being humbled by an “old man” or an “old woman” from the masters age divisions. These youngsters cannot understand why they can blow the doors off older runners in a 5K, 10K, or marathon, but when they go up against those seemingly decrepit geezers in an ultra, the old-timers often leave the youngsters in the dust—literally, in a trail ultra.

What these still-wet-behind-the-ears runners don’t realize is that when they venture into Ultraland, they’re like Superman toying with green kryptonite. They are likely to find that the protective armor known as youth doesn’t work as well in ultras as it does in shorter races. Indeed, the very attributes of youth that help them runa fast 10K can be their undoing in a 100miler.

One need only look at the race results for a typical ultramarathon to realize that masters runners figure prominently. In the 1997 Western States 100-Mile Endurance Run, for example, 167 of the 256 finishers, including 51 of the top 100, were 40 or older. Better yet,

UltraRunning magazine. Buried amidst the annual report on the state of ultrarunning is

Joe Pope, perennial Western States 100Mile Endurance Run finisher, arrives at Foresthill (mile 62), enroute to a 26:43:30 finish in the 1997 event. JEFF HAGEN

Jeff Hagen MASTERS OF THE ULTRA 67

The Masters Edge

1. Experience, experience, experience

2. Ability to pace properly

3. Patience

4. Efficiency

5. Tendency to approach races philosophically

6. Trust in themselves and their abilities

7. Psychological edge from unique nonrunning experiences

an interesting sidebar called “Ultras Won by Over-50 Runners.” Of the 317 ultras UltraRunning tracked for 1996, 20 were won outright by 50+ runners, and in 16 races the women’s winner was 50+.

It appears that masters runners have some unique characteristics that draw them to the ultramarathon and provide them with enough success to make them want to linger in the world of ultrarunning. What follows are my impressions of why masters runners seem to do particularly well in ultramarathons.

EXPERIENCE, EXPERIENCE, EXPERIENCE

Experience is so important for running ultramarathons that perhaps it should be listed as reasons number | through 3. The longer the event, the more variables a runner is likely to encounter; the best way to deal with these variables is to experience them and to learn from them. Masters runners typically have a broad repertoire of running experiences from which to draw insight—assuming that they were paying attention as the events unfolded!

For example, most masters have run in all sorts of weather conditions and know how to deal with rain, snow, ice, and heat. They know which running shoes and which socks cause blisters and which do not. They have learned what types of food to eat and which liquids to drink during long events. And they have learned which race strategies are effective for them and which are not.

I probably could go on to list several dozen variables that veteran runners have experienced, but you get the idea. Masters runners need only to log on to the hard drive in their brains to access a wealth of information that can help them analyze the conditions and situations that are present on any given day, at any given event. This ability enables them to respond quickly and effectively to the variables presented. Meanwhile, their younger, inexperienced counterparts are using the trial and error method in an attempt to find solutions to problems that they have never encountered before.

ABILITY TO PACE PROPERLY

Improper pacing will hurt a runner’s time in any event, but starting too fast in ultramarathons can be absolutely devastating. It is one thing for runners to survive the last mile of a 5K after going out too hard, but if they push the envelope in the first 10 miles of a 100-miler, they will be hard-pressed to tough it out for the last 90 miles. Fast starters who acknowledge their mistake early and adjust their pace immediately may be able to recover sufficiently to finish the race; however, it is unlikely that their overall performance will be as good as it could have been with proper pacing throughout the event.

Anyone who has ever watched the kids’ races that are sometimes held in conjunction with 5K or 10K events has probably noticed a common thread. No matter what the distance of the race, all of the boys and girls take off as though they were running a 100-yard dash! Inevitably, they pay for this indiscretion by slowing down dramatically as the race wears on. Since virtually every child does the same thing, I can only assume that the tendency to start too fast in a race must be a genetic flaw in the human race. Homo sapiens, which literally means “wise man,” seem to be anything but wise when it comes to proper pacing.

The more experience runners have, the more likely they will have learned to resist this natural urge to start too fast. This gives the typical masters runner an edge in ultramarathons, where pacing is so critical. Also, most masters runners no longer possess the raw speed that younger runners have in abundance, so they probably have grown accustomed to running in the middle of the pack in 5K and 10K events. The middle of the pack, it just so happens, is an excellent place to be lurking early in an ultramarathon.

Of course, one cannot assume that all masters runners have learned how to pace properly. Some of these men and women (mostly men) have always started races too fast—and they’ Il continue to, even when they are competing in the 100 to 109 age group! Chances are, though, that masters runners who seem to be missing the “pacing gene” entirely won’t be doing many ultras, because the events will ultimately prove to be just too painful for them. However, old codgers who have learned to start slowly and finish at full throttle often find great success running ultra distances.

PATIENCE

Patience is an individual thing, but older runners seem to display more of it than the young whippersnappers do. Patience is closely related to proper pacing, but it goes beyond that. When things are not going well, masters runners tend to remember the old ultrarunning proverb: “It doesn’t always keep getting worse!”

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Bill Roehr, age 52 and all smiles after finishing the 1997 Western States 100.

If they are feeling the effects of gastric revolution, they are likely to hang in there for a while, knowing that a half hour later they might experience an amazing recovery and find themselves passing competitors like a Jaguar at a Volkswagen rally.

These old geezers know that an ultramarathon is a very, very long event, and being patient with themselves, their crew members, and race officials is very much to their advantage. JEFF HAGEN

EFFICIENCY

Many masters runners have become experts at making the most of their declining physical abilities. The key is to run as efficiently as possible. Fortunately, for olderrunners, running efficiently in ultramarathons depends less on aerobic capacity and more on experience. Knowing when to walk, when to run, how fast torun, when to eat, what to eat, how much to eat, and so on, all have an effect on overall efficiency, and masters have had more time to test these factors and to discover what works for them.

Using another automotive analogy, it doesn’t do much good to have a big engine if you let your engine run out of fuel or drive so hard that you burn up your tires. Those with smaller engines who know how to get the most out of their power plants and wheels will come out ahead in the end.

TENDENCY TO APPROACH RACES PHILOSOPHICALLY

Many veteran runners are just glad to be out on the course, still able to run. Granted, some masters runners remain very competitive, but the really competitive ones tend to get weeded out by the “train too hard, get injured, can’t run any more” scenario.

Masters runners whose philosophy is not to win but just to have fun seem to adapt particularly well to the unique demands of ultramarathons. Ironically, many of these masters runners do very well in races. Their laid-back attitude enables them to take care of themselves early in the race, which often results in a good finish. The longer the event, the more important this approach becomes; so it is not unusual for runners in their 40s, or even in their 50s and beyond, to win 24-hour events outright.

TRUST IN THEMSELVES AND THEIR ABILITIES

As time goes on, and runners participate in more and more events, they are apt to develop an increasing amount of trust in their own abilities. Doing well in ultramarathons absolutely requires that runners trust themselves so they can run their own races, even if they find themselves at the back of the pack in the early miles. This trust is based on a strong conviction that they are running exactly as they should, based on their natural ability, age, level of training, and other factors. If they trust themselves enough to stick to the game plan that they’ ve perfected over the years, chances are the jackrabbits who are burning up the early miles will end up as roadkill later in the day. The maturity of masters runners gives them an excellent opportunity to develop this trust.

PSYCHOLOGICAL EDGE FROM UNIQUE NONRUNNING EXPERIENCES

Because they have been ‘roaming this planet longer than younger runners, masters runners are almost certain to have had a wider array of nonrunning experiences that can give them a psychological edge during ultramarathons.

Several years ago I began to realize that the unique set of circumstances under which I grew up has been of great value to me in my ultramarathoning career. The farmhouse where I was raised in Minnesota was lacking in some of the amenities that most young people now enjoy as they are growing up. We abandoned our kerosene lamps and installed electrical wiring when I was a young boy, but we did not have indoor plumbing until I was in college. There was no furnace, and the wood stove in the kitchen and the oil-burner in the living room were scarcely sufficient to warm even the main level of the house, which left my upstairs bedroom essentially unheated.

I will never forget my senior year in high school, when we had a particularly bad winter—even by Minnesota standards. It was so cold that all winter long I wore my overcoat to bed, huddled inside my thin Boy Scout sleeping bag with blankets piled on top. One morning the thermometer inside my room read two degrees Fahrenheit! Outside, it was minus 35 degrees, and the path to our unheated outhouse went over the top of a snowdrift that was 20 feet high. Needless to say, all bathroom visits were very brief; taking time for the slightest bit of recreational reading would have resulted in frostbite or hypothermia.

Even fetching our drinking water was a major effort. I would carry a steaming kettle of water about 200 feet to the hand pump in the yard, dump the contents into the top to prime the pump, and then frantically stroke the handle until the water bucket was filled. Then I would race back to the house with kettle in one hand and bucket in the other—which was as close as we came to having running water at our farm.

Summertime brought a different set of challenges. One important midsummer job for the whole family was to walk the soybean fields, pulling weeds and cutting out stray cornstalks. From the time I was eight years old I walked between 10 and 20 miles per day in the soybeans, fighting voracious mosquitoes, persistent deer flies, shoe-sucking mud, high humidity, and temperatures that occasionally exceeded 100 degrees.

My experiences may sound like one of those “I walked six miles every day to school through two feet of snow and it was uphill in both directions” stories that parents like to tell their kids, but, honestly, everything that I have stated is true. Just as there was no need to complain about these conditions when I was a child, there is no need to exaggerate now.

Growing up under such adversity may seem like a nightmare to most people – who read this, but at the time it just seemed normal to me. And now, as I look back, I consider myself very fortunate to have had the opportunity to live under these conditions. Indeed, I feel as though it has given me an almost unfair advantage in long, difficult races. I didn’t realize it at the time, but all of these physical hardships served as training, both for my body and for my mind.

When I was running the Old Dominion 100-Mile Endurance Run in 1987, it was very warm and very humid, with an enthusiastic delegation of deer flies that tried to eat me alive when I stopped for even a few seconds. Instead of becoming upset about these adverse conditions, I was able instead to think back to those hot, muggy, bug-filled days in the soybean fields. It was almost like stepping into a time machine and going home for a short time, and I knew that if I could survive those conditions when I was eight years old, it should be no problem to do the same as a physically fit adult. This enabled me to continue and to set my PR for 100-mile trail races.

In contrast, during the 1988 Wasatch Front 100-Miler, an unexpected cold front caught everyone off guard. Instead of temperatures in the 90s, which had been expected, raceday brought cool weather and rain. Then at night the temperature in the high country dropped to well below freezing, with winds gusting to 50 miles per hour. Many of us without crews lacked adequate clothing in our drop sacks. This caused a real predicament, and runner after runner could be seen dropping out of the race.

As I struggled up a ridge in the middle of the night, bracing myself against the wind and trying to stay warm in my meager running clothes, my mind began

Jeff Hagen sprinting toward the finish line in the Old Dominion 100-Mile Endurance Run.

to drift back to my childhood. Suddenly, it occurred to me that as cold as it felt on that 10,000foot ridge, it was still several degrees warmer than it had been in my bedroom on those frigid mornings in Minnesota. Focusing on that thought gave me the inner strength not only to continue but to pick up the pace as well. By the time I neared the finish line several hours later, I was devouring the miles at close to 10K race pace.

These are only two examples of the countless times during anultra race that my mind has gained sustenance from past events. A runner’s state of mind is important at any event, but the power of the mind takes on special importance in the world of ultramarathoning. Runners who can draw inner strength from past life events will find that it will help them survive the rigors of an ultramarathon, and masters runners typically have a very rich set of life events that can be used for this purpose.

JOYCE HAGEN

GOING BACK TO MY ROOTS

The great thing about this concept is that it works both ways. The self-confidence and perseverance that runners develop by successfully completing ultramarathons in turn can be used to deal with other challenges in their lives— at home, at work, or in recreation. I have found that since I started running ultras, my general perception of what is “possible” has changed drastically, and Ihave talked with many other ultrarunners who feel the same way.

Even the soybean field saga from my childhood has another chapter that demonstrates the converse of the “psychological-edge” concept. Clearly, my training in weeding soybeans has helped me during ultramarathons, but not too long ago I had the opportunity to transfer my ultrarunning experience back to the soybean field.

Walking the soybeans has become a lost art for most modern farm families. Now family members ride on seats attached to the front of a tractor that is also equipped with a tank containing an herbicide. The riders need only to spritz the weeds with a burst of spray from a hand-held metal wand. I have never cared for this innovation, because walking the soybeans was the last

Jeff Hagen MASTERS OF THE ULTRA i 73