CHAPTER FIVE – SCOTT LUDWIG

From Scott’s 2003 Badwater Application:

Age: 48:

Peachtree City, Georgia

Why I Run Ultras:

I’ve been successful at them over the years (I kind of sensed this in high school because in 10th grade I could run the 600 yard run better than anyone in my class that didn’t throw up afterwards). Running 5-10% slower than I do in marathons makes an incredible difference in what I’m able to accomplish over distances of 50K and up. As I’m getting older and losing my speed, ultras are more and more appealing to me.

JUST CREW IT BY SCOTT LUDWIG

My wife Cindy gave me the movie Running on the Sun, a documentary of the 1999 Badwater Ultramarathon for a gift on Father’s Day 2001. As I watched it and saw the variety of pain and discomfort the runners experienced running across Death Valley, all I could say was “been there,” “been there” and “been there.” When the movie came to a close, I said in no uncertain terms “I’m doing it.” (Cindy, who had been in the kitchen, noticing what the runners in the movie were going through quickly replied “no you’re not.” She didn’t have a prayer.)

For me to one day run Badwater was, as they say a “no-brainer.” A couple years later when I signed the Badwater Ultramarathon waiver, specifically the statement “I realize I may die participating in this event,” I couldn’t help but think that “no-brainer” took on an entirely new meaning.

From my perspective, I knew that deep down inside I had been training for almost a decade for something special; I just wasn’t sure exactly what. I’d been putting in well over 90 miles a week during that time while maintaining a requiring 50-hour-a-week job and a household with a wife, two sons and our black Labrador “Magic.” I learned to survive on five hours sleep, literally (as I called it) “training to exhaustion.” I knew that one day my decade-long sacrifice had a purpose: I just didn’t know it would take me to Death Valley to compete in the planet’s toughest footrace.

Now for the really hard part: finding a few people who would be willing to crew for me. Not only would they need to sacrifice a week of their respective lives; they would need to be in top physical (not to mention mental) shape to endure the challenges of the harshest environment they had ever encountered.

Surprisingly, the search for a crew didn’t take long at all:

Al Barker

Al Barker and I had been running 20 miles every Sunday morning together since Thanksgiving 1993. We had been to hundreds of races together during this time and became great friends. Ten years my senior, Al sported personal bests that mirrored mine in races of virtually every distance from the mile to the marathon (Al is quick to point out that he ran a sub-five minute mile – I never did, but I always counter with me breaking 2:50 in the marathon – which he never did). I’ll have to give him credit, though: After running with him for ten years I wasn’t running anywhere near the fast times he had been running ten years earlier – back when he was my age.

Asking Al if he would crew for me at Badwater was (yes, I’m going to use the phrase one more time) a no-brainer. He eagerly accepted and we both decided we needed to focus on increasing our mileage and getting acclimated to the conditions we would face in the desert. We increased our mileage, occasionally putting in 30 or 35 miles on Sunday. We also believed our training in the heat and humidity of Atlanta, Georgia would probably translate well to the extremely hot yet arid conditions in Death Valley. In time we would discover that our assumption was correct. The desert heat would ultimately be one of the least of our worries, however.

Gary Griffin

I met Gary Griffin at the three-mile mark of the Callaway Gardens Marathon in January 2002. He was sporting a Gulf Winds Track Club singlet – a club Al had been a member of when he lived in Tallahassee, Florida before he moved to Atlanta – and I introduced myself and asked if he knew Al. Gary didn’t know Al, but after Gary and I ran the remaining 23 miles of the marathon together – talking every step of the way (in all honesty Gary did most of the talking and I did most of the listening), I did know that in time the two of them would become friends. You see, I did manage to mention to Gary that one day I wanted to run the Badwater Ultramarathon and he said he wanted to be a part of it.

Eighteen months later Gary would get to know Al; in fact he’d get to know Al very well.

Paula May

I met Paula May at a summer track meet in Peachtree City, Georgia in 1999. Less than a year later she became part of our regular Sunday morning 20-mile group and became quite an accomplished masters runner in the southeast, regular winning her division in distances from 5K to the marathon. A physician’s assistant anesthetist by trade, Paula – knowing I would need a person in the medical in-the-know at Badwater – volunteered her services. I quickly accepted and in time Paula developed an elaborate plan to ensure I would be getting the proper nutrition, fluids and calories as I made my way across Death Valley.

I asked Paula to be my Crew Chief. She gladly accepted.

Eric Huguelet

I met Eric Huguelet by way of Paula May. You see, Eric is Paula’s husband. At first I’d see him every once in a while – usually at the annual Peachtree Road Race where we’d meet in Piedmont Park after the race and drink a few beers. In time Eric would occasionally join us on Sunday mornings as well as for an occasional marathon. However, in time what Eric and I enjoyed most was playing Darkside (the name of our running club) golf, which meant one of two things: (1) there are no rules and/or (2) rules can be made up along the way. Don’t like that five-iron you just hit into the woods? No worries; try another. Just missed that two-foot putt? No worries; keep putting until you make it. Hit your drive out of bounds? No worries; I’m dropping a ball next to your drive you put 250 yards down the middle of the fairway. You get the idea.

Eric was the first to suggest I practice walking – and more specifically walking uphill in preparation for Badwater. One of my biggest regrets to this day is that his suggestion was made less than a month before the actual race.

Josh Ludwig

I have known Josh his entire life. Since the day he was born, in fact. Josh is the youngest of my two sons, and the only one who took an interest in running. He started running when he was six years old, and by the time he was 10 was running 18 minute 5K’s, 40 minute 10K’s and one memorable 76:36 10-miler that would have bettered the Georgia state age group record by over nine minutes – had the course been certified.

Josh took an interest in other sports as well. He was particularly adept at soccer and basketball, but managed to find time for a little baseball and football as well. As children are apt to do, in time he experienced a “sports burnout” in high school, which served as the perfect time to ask him to be on my Badwater crew. After all, isn’t that the dream summer vacation for most 17-year olds?

Well, maybe “dream” isn’t quite the right word, but Josh reluctantly became the fifth and final member of my Badwater crew.

The Crew

Overall my crew was in excellent physical condition. Al and Paula were accomplished marathoners, and Eric was not far behind. Gary was a talented and experienced ultrarunner; and Josh was in great physical shape and had the added advantage of youth on his side.

The crew and I met several times to go over our Badwater game plan. We met with a veteran Badwater crewmember, Andy Velazco, as well as with an experienced Badwater crew chief, David Sowers: both had successfully supported their respective runners in the past. The advice and information was invaluable, and quite honestly I don’t think we would have had as good an experience in the desert without their help.

I knew the crew was just as committed and excited about Badwater as I was – if that’s possible. They quickly adopted the slogan “Just Crew It.”

I couldn’t help but think that if you said the slogan really fast it could just have easily been “Just Screw It.” Just in case, you know.

The Runner

I’ll be the first to admit that once I received my official acceptance into the 2003 Badwater Ultramarathon, every day as I finished my run I would visualize myself crossing the finish line on Mount Whitney. I knew in my heart and without a doubt I would make it – I just didn’t know if I would be competitive or if I would be bringing up the rear. But I was absolutely confident in the fact that I would finish.

I gave my crew a simple list of Badwater Don’ts:

Don’t:

•   Tell me my injuries (if I have any) are bad (downplay them, please!).

•   Tell me where I stand relative to others in the race (in my mind, if I was running well and no one was in sight, I wanted to believe everyone else had...