by Dave Pujdak

7/23 Piseco to Wakely Dam (Damn Wakely Dam Ultra)

 About 14 months ago I decided I wanted to do a triathlon so I signed myself up for one and competed in it mid August of 2004. I enjoyed the race but I can distinctly remember telling my dad that I hated the running portion the most. I had read about the Wakely Dam Ultra and told him about it because he has been talking about doing an ultra marathon for years (he runs the NYC marathon every year and has somewhere between 25-30 marathons under his belt). I thought that was the end of that but he somehow convinced me to enter the race. Now keep in mind that the longest race I had ever run before this was only a 5K so 50K was quite a big jump. I think just that fact got me to enter the race because I like to do things "big"... jump right into them and "go for the gold" and the challenge of it all made it all the more attracting. 

I rose at 3:30AM Saturday morning (7/23) and my parents and I (who had come up to cheer me on) drove out from CNY to Piseco, NY. We arrived early to see Sherpa John (from VFTT) standing on the road by the parking lot. I started getting my stuff in order and my parents ended up going over and talking to him. I finally introduced myself and had to laugh because it was like meeting my twin. He seems to share the same "go big or not at all" philosophy that I do and has a similar hiking/running pace. The bus finally came roaring up over the hill and then I knew it was real... I was at the start of the Wakely Dam Ultra.. my first ultramarathon and first distance race period. The racers started piling off the bus and I have to admit it was overwhelming standing next to so many accomplished runners. I found that I was one of the youngest runners as well. 

We took some pictures and then filed out to the trailhead. The race director spoke to us for a bit and then there was a quick "Racers set your watches" and "Go" and it began. It happened so fast there wasn't even time for the starting line jitters. I was towards the front of the group so I let a few go by and then began running thinking "wow here I am... it's 6:30AM and I'm beginning my first ultramarathon"... I had the biggest grin on my face. It was one of those moments where you know that from that point on things in your life are going to change and this is going to be looked back upon as the beginning of it all. 

I ended up running in the middle of a group of 5-6 runners (we were running single file). It was weird because it was so quiet.. you could hear the birds chirping.. and the feet gently hitting the ground but there was no noise from any of the runners. I started laughing to myself thinking that we are all just following the guy in front of us... and if he goes the wrong way we'll all just follow mindlessly. A few minutes later the guy in front of me remarked that he felt like a lemming and that if the lead runner went off a cliff the rest of us would follow (echoing my thoughts exactly). An hour passed and the group started separating out and the woman behind me suddenly passed me and the other two in front and pretty much charged ahead disappearing into the thick woods. I couldn't believe how easy she made it look. I eventually lost everyone I had been running with and found myself running alone enjoying the peace and quiet.

I eventually ran into Sherpa John and he mentioned that he had just been stung by a bee. I felt bad for him considering that we were only 1.5-2 hours into the race but had to keep going because I knew there was plenty of trail yet to cover. The trail was really nice and not too rocky (compared to what I am used to) but the mud was quite deep in spots and very tricky. At times it was solid and you could run right across it and at other times it was inches deep and sucked you right in. At one point the mud sucked one of my sneakers right off my foot as i was running. It happened so fast that I didn't realize it until I felt the ground on my foot and looking back saw my sneaker wedged in the mud 6-8 feet behind me! I put the sneaker back on tying it tight and then had the same thing happen to the other foot not more than 10 minutes later.

 I got a bit worried when I noticed that my ankles were starting to feel a bit sore (even though I hadn't rolled them or anything) and realized that I was only about 10 miles into the race but put it out of my mind knowing that I could only monitor it at that point and make sure it didn't get worse. (I think it was caused by all the mud that I had run through previously). Sherpa John caught up and I found myself running with him, a 19 year old girl from NH and another runner. Ironically it was all the youngest runners in the race. We ran for quite a while together talking and the time just flew by. I stopped at a stream to fill my water supplies at about the 16 mile mark (3:30 hours) and they kept going. I would realize later that running with someone in the later stages of the race could make all the difference in the world when you are sore and tired.

 I was pretty happy with my pace thus far considering that I had been forced to cut back on my running in the previous month and a half due to a hip injury. I continued on enjoying the beauty of the area (supposedly one of the wildest areas in the Adk's) but began to get worried when I found myself getting tired. Besides my already sore ankles I found my knees starting to get sore then my feet and finally my hips. I got a little depressed realizing I still had about 3-4 hours of running left and I was already hitting the "wall". I walked for about an hour to give myself some time to rest and eventually caught up to Sherpa John. One look at him and I could tell that he felt the same exact way as I did. I remarked about how the grade of the hill that I would walk was getting smaller by the hour and he agreed. We continued on together for a short while and then I lost him and carried on running for 5-10 min (it seemed like an eternity) and then walking for a bit. The lowest point of the day was when I realized that I still had 10 miles to go and realized that I was completely spent... every muscle in my legs hurt and I felt completely drained. 

I carried on like this for about a mile then realized that I had no choice and that the quicker I moved the quicker I could rest and "picked" myself up out of my "depression." I ate some food, some goo, and some chocolate covered coffee beans that I had brought and could feel my energy levels pick up a bit and my mood as well. I still hurt all over but my energy was returning. I was about 9 miles from the finish and I set it in my mind that I was going to run the next 4 miles to a trail junction... walk the two miles after that and then run the remaining bit to the finish and I somehow mustered my strength up and ran for 40-50 minutes straight (which at that point was a feat unto itself). I made it to the trail junction to find the ranger there keeping track of who had come through. He told me that I had 5.7 miles left and that I was in 16th place. I didn't know whether to be happy or sad because at that point 5.7 miles seemed like way more than I could handle. I found myself thinking "you've done over 26 miles already... a marathon... that's enough... who cares about the remaining 6 miles." If I could've stopped right there there's a good chance I may have. At this point I was out of water (too tired to pump any more) and hot and all I could think about was running through the finish.. saying hello to my parents.. then jumping right into the river and cooling off. 

The remaining bit which was on a grassy road was pure torture because it seemed to go on forever and had way more uphill portions than I had expected. Two people passed me along the way knocking me back to 18th place (I was keeping track in my head). I hit the dirt road before the finish which was only supposed to be 0.8 miles and started walking out of despair when it started going up and I couldn't see the end (which considering that it was only supposed to be 0.8 mi should've been very close). I turned around to see 3 guys running behind me about 200 yards away and started running getting mad and vowing that there was no way I was going to let them beat me and push me out of the top 20. I started running again trying to muster up any strength I had and ended up running the last 0.25 mile with my dad (who had been walking up the road to cheer me on). At this point the anger and fact that I knew I was almost there was enough to keep me going and I lengthened out my stride and actually started to enjoy the run and get in the zone. I rounded the corner at the Ranger Station and past my mom as well as a few others who were cheering and there it was... the DAM... finally... I had been dreaming about it for the past 10 agonizing miles and I was finally there. I ran across feeling great and finished at about 7:35 in 18th place. I took a dip in the water and just let my body relax... at last after 32.6 miles. 

As I was walking back to my car Sherpa John came running into view. We cheered him on but had to keep yelling "No John straight" or "No John Right" because it was a bit confusing as to where the finish was. He mentioned something about wanting to get his sneakers off and then ran by. 

This was by far the hardest thing I've ever done and I knew that I am destined to run more of these because as much pain as I was in and as much despair as I was in at times I kept finding myself thinking... now I have to adjust my training in this way and next year I can do even better. This race forced me to use up every last shred of energy I had and go deeper than I ever have and I loved every minute of it. Even now sitting here typing this with most of my legs quite sore I can't wait to do my Super Traverse in August (the Great Range Traverse plus the McIntyre Range in 1 day) and can't wait to compete in my next ultra.