MATT PALOCSAY’S BADWATER 2001 STORYPRE-RACE     A year and a half in the making, my race was completedon Friday July 27th after shedding blood, sweat, and tears on the course fromBadwater to the summit of Mt. Whitney. It started when I got the bug, the"Badwater bug".  If you don't know what this is, you haven't beenout there. All I had to do was crew for one clinic and I was hooked; sometime, as soon aspossible, I was going to run the course.  I don't know if it is the beauty ofthe course, the family of people involved (led by patriarch and matriarch Benand Denise Jones, whose love for this race makes it something very special), orthe challenge itconsists of.  Whatever it was, I got it and I got it bad. I went to bothclinicslast year and then crewed for a runner who had todrop with injury.  Mona Landfield and I, now without a crewing commitment,offered our services up and back the course to anyone who wanted help.  Wesawthe race in all aspects, from the fresh Jay Grobeson near the front to thestruggling Erika Gerhardt. I knew I had to come out the next year. After therace, I ran a strong cascade crest 100 and Angeles crest 100, butmy mind always wandered back to Badwater. I couldn't wait to get back outthere.      Living in Los Angeles, it is not much of a trek to getout there, so I took my first of many desert trips in February duringpresident's day weekend.  How shocked could I have been?  There was snoweverywhere!  I did my runs in slush on the side of the road up whitemountainsand through canyons with Joshua trees with icicles dripping off.  Not exactlyrace conditions, but something special all the same.     Again, I went out the end of March to get some moremiles in.  On the night run from furnace creek to stovepipe wells, a glowabovethe mountains lit up the road. We thought it was an alien or maybe the lightsfrom Vegas, but it turned out to be the northern lights. No flashlights, nomoon, just the aurora borealis to light my path in Death Valley. A few more runsin Vegas, some more in Death Valley, a sandstorm while out there on my own thatlifted a 100 foot high wall of sand across my path, a couple clinics where I metmy fellow runners and their crews; such good people out there.  My crew wasgetting better and better.  I made some mistakes on the runs, but the lessonswere learned. Approaching the race, I just wanted to avoid getting injured. Iguess it was a bad time to stab myself in the calf with a buck knife. Fortunately, I heal quickly and the antibiotics staved off the infection.THE RACE     For all of the logistics to figure out before thisrace.  I had listened when people made suggestions, and I covered all of thebases and then a few more. I wanted my running to be the only thing thatdetermined my finish. Redundancy was not enough.I recruited the best possible crew.  Mona was determined to get to the finishand dance on the summit.  My buddy Andy from college had been supporting methrough all of the desert training runs and knew me very well.  My buddyDerrickfrom high school learned all the right questions to ask and was a strongsupporter on the crew.  And then there was Vicki who was a bundle of energy.Shehad crewed out here before for Carlos Bandera’s.

     With a safe trip to the desert, a good meal behind us,and everything inplace, we started the race at 6am. I took it easy for the first stretch,knowinghow easy it is to lose the race in the first 42 miles, but how tough it is towin it from there. I stayed steady and solid and actually pr'd the front 42eventhough I was as fresh as I had ever been. I did not feel the temps get tohigh(not above 115) so the cool weather probably helped.  There are not manydetailsto give along the next stretch. I hit a low at about 12 midnight and was abletopull myself out of it. For the first time, I saw the dense band of stars thatmake up the plane of the milky way as I looked up at the sky.  It is amazingwhat you can see out there . . . a quick nap and back at it. I had a few footproblems but we took care of  everything as it started and did not let itbuild. My crew was resting well and taking care of themselves. I wascrackingjokes the whole way and everything was clicking. The race itself was prettyuneventful (my crew may say otherwise) but I just kept going and staying strong.     My dad came out to the race to say “hi” and did a milewith me, which was pretty cool. He stayed with us until the Portals to helpout. As we approached Lone Pine, my energy dropped a bit but my crew foundCarl’s Jr. Some burgers brought me back to life. As we could see Lone Pine, Ihoned in on two runners just up ahead and gave my best General Patton speechto rally the troops, and it worked. I spun them into a fury and passed therunners within a half-mile. We cranked up to the Whitney Portals in less than4hours (which involves some running) and had a brief celebration. I made itfromBadwater to the portals, 135 miles, in 38:48 and change with a 10th placeoverall and the youngest finisher ever (not too shabby if I do say somyself). But I wasn't satisfied . . .THE SUMMIT     I needed the summit. That first 135 is a tough son-of-a-gun. If that wasall there was, I would have been satisfied. But I knew there was a mountainlooming over my shoulder and I had to get up it. We took about 30 minutes tore-group andload the summit packs and off we went. It was about 10pm and I washeading  up a14,500ft. summit in the dark with only a little sleep in 40 hours. It was prettysketchy going up, especially when there was a thin trail that had nothing but a1,000-foot drop off to one side.  I had to pull a few ballerina steps to stayontrail and alive. My legs were strong and even with the caffeine, my mind wasalittle weary, but not hallucinating. We did, however, forget to re-load onwaterat our last chance. By the time we got to about one mile from the summit, wehadno water left and had not been eating. It was getting colder and we weregettingmore and more tired. We could either press on and summit and hope to findwater