Reprinted from Endurance News, June 2005, monthly publication of the American Endurance Ride Conference, www.aerc.org, 866-271-2372

The horse seems fit. The horse seems sound. The rider has lost 15 pounds but would like to lose some more. The crew has committed (and should be committed, admittedly). The ride has been chosen.

As I type this, we’re down to five weeks and counting until my first 100. I’m conditioning less for cardiovascular fitness and more for flexibility, looseness, strength-building. Lots of dressage in which Ned is initially coerced to work straight and soft and through but then succumbs to my charm and willingly dances with me.

I’m planning more of the same, adding a little night riding, and hoping to get in at least one day of warm weather riding, as Ned and I need all the warm weather acclimation we can get. Since it’s snowing as I type this (early May), I may not get this item checked off my “to do” list.

So for this last article before the big day, I canvassed folks for last-minute tips about the ride. You’ll probably recognize those from veteran 100 mile riders. Perhaps the one from my father will seem obvious. But the ones that have been most humbling to me have been from the folks who know me and know Ned and are confident that we can do this.

“You have to enter a 100 miler with a firm resolution that your horse comes first and that means you are a benevolent human being who will put his welfare before your ego. If it is too tough for your horse, you quit. Period. And you make up your mind before you start that that is the right option if there is a question about his ability to continue. There is not a 100 mile rider out there that will not respect you for making the right decision.” (Julie Suhr)
“Wherever, whenever. I will be there.” (Anita, crew member and best friend since childhood, when asked if we could change the ride she was to crew)

“Sure, I’d like to try a 100 miler too. I’ll try to find an “easy 100” to ride right after I get the easier things out of the way like finding an eternal repository for nuclear waste, finding a cure for cancer and learn¬ing to play the flute.” (Karla, friend and fellow rider, not joining AERC anytime soon, after I told her I was trying to find an “easy 100” to enter)

“Never underestimate the power of dry underwear and a clean face.” (Natty, friend and three-day eventer, who has clearly ridden with both soiled)

“I just look at the fact that it worked before . . . and after a good 100 I would
go to another 50 and wonder how on earth I ever kept riding after 50. I figure it happened once, it can happen again.” (Angie McGhee)

“You’re craaaaaazy!” (Uncle Pat, no endurance rider, but who served as in-timer at the Allegany Shut Up and Ride, a job for which he was a bit limited because he wouldn’t go near the horses)

“When I did the OD 75 I went to the talk that Stagg Newman gave the night before. The overwhelming theme and the thing I remember the most was his emphasis on pace the first part of the race. He kept saying the majority of those arriving first into the first vet check did not finish the race. I know you and Ned probably won’t be racing [author’s note: this is the understatement of the century] but still, the thrust is get through those first 15 or 20 miles at a slow, steady pace.” (Endurance friend Paul Calandra, who I’m trying to talk into riding 100 too)

“Sometimes when I start a 100 mile ride and I have not slept the night before be¬cause I never do, and my stomach is churning because it always does and my mental state is impaired because it always is, I think of that great quote: ‘I’m looking forward to looking back on this.’” (Julie Suhr)

“Oh my aching ass—I’m sure that this too will pass.” (Suggested middle-of-the-night mantra from friend, Jane)

“1. Carry a spare flashlight. 2. Make sure your underwear doesn’t have seams in the wrong place.” (Truman Prevatt, offering last-minute advice)

“Ya know those smooth stones people use for calming? They’re sometimes called worry stones? Since you’re a champion worrier, pack one in your pommel pack and rub it as you come in to the holds.” (Friend and newbie distance rider, Kate Rogers)

“I think that one thing I wish someone had told me was that riding in the dark is not scary. I wish I hadn’t heard 100 different people telling me how much they hated riding in the dark—because I had to unlearn a lot of fear. And it turns out that, for me, not getting motion sickness and not hallucinating is really important if you want to finish. And the only way for me to not do these things is to keep a positive attitude. I sometimes have to force myself to laugh. To smile. And if I can just convince myself I’m having a blast (and I guess I’m easily convinced) then I don’t get sick. Well, not really sick. I’ve still perfected the art of barfing off the side of my horse with- out getting any on either of us. But yeah, I still need to be reminded to laugh, to smile. And relax. It’s a sport—it’s supposed to be fun.” (Jamie Fend)

“Be nice to your crew.” (Richard, husband)

“I wish I knew ahead of time about night riding and the fact that artificial light is really your enemy. I had to learn the hard way that the most effective light is glow- sticks on the breast collar (unless you are racing and want to be sneaky) accompanied by a mini-mag light with a key bungie attached so it is on my wrist. That way it is quick and easy to get to when you want to confirm the trail direction and you are not in danger of dropping it.” (Cindy Simcox)

“Many miles to ride? Take essentials; much Advil. Pee before mounting. Remember to wear Plenty of sunscreen. Else you May look like saddle. Endurance riders Might do it longer, but they Have calloused asses.” (Tara, haiku writer, friend and non-endurance rider)

“Force yourself to eat. Drink one water bottle at every check, minimum.” (Patti Pizzo)

“You can hallucinate if you take enough pain medication [author’s note: Hallelujah, South Carolina—that’s not really an Indian on a war pony in front of me].” (Sharon Anderson, when asked what she wished some- one had told her before her first 100)

“In 1996 I finished and won by over an hour the Grand Island 100 in Michigan on Zachary Paul. Now mind you I expected red carpet and champagne at the finish. Needless to say there was hardly a soul there as most had done the 50 and gone home. Then I did my first one on Hawk in copious amounts of rain at the Hallelujah in South Carolina. Being the last one in at midnight there was a huge cheering squad. Mostly because they could all go to bed.” (Mary Coleman)

“I know this sounds really odd, but after a 100 miler I sort of put off taking a shower Once I take off those sweat-stained, slobbered on, grimy clothes, once I wash the dust of the trail from my body, the ride is really over. Despite the weariness, the soreness and all the effort it took to get there, and all the trials and tribulations along the way, I am not as much relieved as I am saddened that my 100 mile adventure is over.” (Julie Suhr)

I still can’t explain the feelings you have when you cross that finish with a horse fit to go on. And how no matter how many miles you are from home you are on Cloud Nine most of the trip reliving the ride. No one could tell me how great it was and how much more admiration I’d have for my horse.” (Mary Coleman)

“Be careful.” (Dad)