From Set to Crack

Running can’t replace sleep. It’s not an equivalent exchange. Jason and I tested that law again last fall on the Bonneville Salt Flats while partaking in the Dusk to Dawn Relay. Yup, they still can’t be swapped. How was our second experience the same and different from our first Salt Flats all-nighter?

Squad camp
Cots, full coolers, lounge chairs, and snacks galore- what a luxurious encampment!

Jason and I were more ambitious with our team size this time. Signing up for a six-person team rather than an eight-person meant a greater commitment to laps. Others seemed less committed though, and we didn’t have a full crew for our Na Squad until six weeks before the race. We eventually attracted an incongruous but genial assortment of teammates ranging from teenagers to senior citizens and from ramblers to sprinting veterans. Other crews may have come upon their participants easier for the number of total runners appeared to have doubled from the race’s inaugural year.

Bonneville Salt Flats
The Bonneville Salt Flats are 12 miles long and five miles wide.
No such surplus!
Unnecessary jumping is the perfect way to waste energy before pulling an all-nighter.

The race loop was exactly two miles long this time. Between 8:04 p.m. and 7:06 a.m., the duration of the event, Jason and I both ran six laps. The total miles of our associates varied from eight to fourteen. One of our teenage teammates simultaneously “pulled a muscle” and “got a blister” in the middle of the night making him unable to circle further. Yeah, basically he didn’t want to run anymore. I was certainly not our fastest runner, but I was unfailingly consistent with no “pulled muscles.” I completed all but one of my laps between 19 and 21 minutes.

our squad at sunset
Thanks Stacey Marble for the cool silhouette shot.

Our team again broke up responsibility for chunks of the night to pairs, so sleep was still technically feasible, at least on a small-scale. For the second time, Jason and I took the slot no one wanted, which was the two-hour block between 3:00 and 5:00 a.m. All our teammates snoozed during these hours. We didn’t mind the quiet until we tried to wake up a replacement at the end of our window. No one was particularly interested, and it took a lot of effort to get our next looper in place.

the dusk dash
As its name suggests, Dusk to Dawn starts promptly at sunset.

How did our team do? We placed 3rd amongst the six-person teams, but there were only four of those. Out of the 15 total teams in all three divisions, we came in 7th. Robust averageness? That’s what we are all about baby! We finished five laps behind our division winners. During our first attempt of this relay, our eight-person team completed 59.85 miles. We were hoping to beat that number in 2021. With 64 miles, we did it!

the handoff
Speeds varied considerably amongst out teammates, but we always had someone at the start line ready to continue our forward momentum.

How was the setting? Besides the company with you, the spaces above you are the best thing about this race. Again, we saw Saturn and Jupiter and a million glimmering jabs. The moon was an enflamed sliver that appeared just an hour or so before sunrise. The sunrise itself was a bit disappointing, far from the vibrant, multicolored marvel we witness on our first Dusk to Dawn. Perhaps this was the doing of the pervasive wildfire smoke, or perhaps we just lucked out last time with a rise above standard.

done grinning
That’s a smile of success or at least of completion. Thanks Stacey Marble.

Just how flat were the Bonneville Salt Flats? The salt was more compact this time, less like a Slurpee and more like packed dirt. That meant the difference between salt making its way inexplicably into every cranny and it remaining mostly where it should. It was colder on this occasion. At two points in the night, I got so chilled my body decided it was quitting the warmth game. Thanks to blankets, three jackets, and intermittent running I survived anyway.

The Na Squad
No sleep and all salt makes Jack a brisk boy.

There is something magical about running by yourself on a curious bleached plain with only the crunch of your tennis shoes against the salt to interrupt your contemplation of the innumerable flickering stars webbing the blackness above you. That stillness is only heightened by its contrast to the lively sounds surrounding the start line. Not everyone in our group immediately praised the enchanting perks of this relay though. One of the teenagers complained that we had misrepresented this race to him. Apparently, he didn’t think it would involve so much running. Hmm… what else might be the primary focus of an 11-hour race? Jason and I expected a lot of laughs, a lot of salt, a lot of steps, and not a whole lot of sleep. Our expectations became reality; that was an equivalent exchange.