So you think you are ready?  Here is one racer's experience and she thought she was ready.

Okay.   You CAN hit RETURN Right Now.   You have that power.   I really don't care.    Here is the basic message: The Bridger Ridge Run SUCKS.   I mean, maybe it wouldn't suck for YOU.   But it Definitely SUCKS for ME; I just don't HAVE the technical skills required (must stop self from eeevil thoughts like, “perhaps I could learn & do better next year...”).   I mean, I AM glad that I did it.   But I think pretty much ONCE is enough for my lifetime.   My first hint should have been at the mand at ory pre-race meeting.   The skinny little 50-something-year-old Race Director (who had ObViOUsLY been running for 40+ years & never suffered an unfit moment in his life) was saying, “The course isn't well marked because we want this to be an Adventure for you...but here is where most people have gotten lost in the past...and don't be schToOpid & risk other people's lives...if you need to drop out, you should drop out...don't make us climb the ridge at 9pm in a thunderstorm like this one lady did...”   Contrast this guy with the Big Horn Run Race Director Lady.   I think this is a big hint.   I think if you are ever considering doing a big long race & you're not sure whether you should do it or not, you should try to meet the Race Director.   Or at least see a picture of them.   The Big Horn lady is a reasonable looking American woman .   While we had to say a prayer ( maybe offensive to some, but if you ever were going to believe in Jesus, wouldn't it be before a 100 mile run?), there was a pre-race dinner, a post-race dinner, a post-race breakfast AND bacon, baked potatoes, 5 different kinds of fruit, 5 different kinds of chips, & 5 different kinds of candy bars every 3 to 6 miles during the Whole Entire Race.   I LOVE this woman!!!!!   She even had homemade cookies a couple of times & 4 miles from the end, there were moist towlettes for wiping up your face & stuff, so you could look all fresh & lovely when you crossed the finish line.   Race Director = Big Boned Gal = Fabulous Sign.   The Bridger Run doesn't really seem to be about running.   It seems to be more about proving, “Are we not men?”   It's about “proving yourself” somehow; it must be some sort of sickness.   Like I looked at a website one time for some information about eating during long runs, & it said, “dropped on your head as a small child?   then ultrarunning is the sport for you!!”   This, pretty much, seems to nail it.   For example, besides the “Adventure” of not finding your way ½ the time (I only got lost 3x & only briefly /I mean either you are on the ridge or you aren't, but still...)   Anyway, besides that little bit of Adventure, the aid stations were few & far between & all they had was water, Gatorade , gummy worms, & pretzels.   Trust me, at 10,000 ft, at 98 frickin degrees, the last thing in the world I wanted was a pretzel.   How about something moist like watermelon &/or BACON??!?!??!   The aid stations are really for those elite athletes who don't Need anything/NOT for beeg boned gals who are dying of frickin' exposure up on the ridge.   I am actually pretty amazed that no one has ever died during this run.   I mean, the “Ridge” --- of course, there would be exposure issues.   What about snow, thunder, etc --- surely there have been worse conditions than this year.   I carried a pint of water, which I refilled + drank a whole entire pint at Every aid station, & still I was always out of water a ½ hr to an hr before I arrived at the next station.   I was so dehydrated that my head was just booming.   And I couldn't go any faster.   I really don't see how anyone CAN run the Bridger Run.   It really isn't the 20 miles.   I mean, I figure I run 20 miles or more 7-8x/year.   And it wasn't even the 17,000 (SEVENTEEN THOUSAND) feet of elevation change (gaud, how, in hindsight , could I have Read this & not thought, “What??!?!?!”).   The thing is, there is Never really a “trail.”   There really, seriously, literally (I am Really Seriously Not Exaggerating), is maybe ---- mmmm, ½ mile in the Entire 20 mile run that is not either knife-like-talus or zillions of little teensy tiny rocks on a steep slope, like a bunch of marbles under your feet.   During the first 4 miles, 3 (I am not making this up) three people broke their ankles.   I fell down about 20x.

I sprained my ankle (not too bad --- it only got about 2x as big as my other ankle & it never turned very purple or anything) at mile 4.   The thing is, is that I fell down So Many Times, I started getting all psyched out about falling down (“I can't fall down again I can't fall down again I don't want to fall down...BOOM!!!!”).   So by mile 10, when we get on this frickin Knife Edge Ridge (it was a 200' drop Straight Down a Cliff on one side & a steep steep steep slope on the other side [like if you were standing up 10 ft below the top, you would only have to stick your elbow out to be touching the side of the mountain/that kind of steep]) & the Knife Edge was only wide.   I was already so tired & so TERRIFIED of falling that I just had sewing machine legs & I was crawling over the rocks hanging on with all 4's, trying not to look down.   I seriously felt nauseous when I accidentally looked down once.   AND THERE WERE PEOPLE BEHIND ME!!!   From that point on, I pretty much wanted to cry for the whole rest of the race.   My most foremost & recurring thought was, “I don't belong here.   I am out of my element.   I do not have skills for this.   Why do I never learn rock climbing like I always say I am going to learn rock climbing?”   [tho rock climbing would have really only helped on ~1/10 th of the course; the skill I most needed was how to run down a steep steep steep slope on 10,000 marbles.]).   But the only way out, at that point, was helicopter & I wasn't quite at the helicopter stage either & it was just as far to the finish as the start &, in theory, the start is worse than the end.   I pretty much walked the Whole Entire Rest of the race, but was terrified WALKING.   I think it is sort of like kayaking.   Like when I used to dump & swim the rapids 12x/day, I always wondered why everyone else had so much energy & I was so exhausted at night.   Like Scott Creel might have finished running in 3 hrs 20 minutes.   But I'm sure I worked Way frickin harder than him!!!!!!   But then Dede came at mile 15 with ice water & homemade cookies & a camera to prove that I really was a Hero in My Own Mind.   I LOVE Dede!!!!   And Tom Moore came later with water too.   That was a saving grace.   Dede has little children, so she is used to getting whiney people through events without crying.   She is Very Skilled.   EVERYONE wanted to smooch her for the cookies.   You could just see Dede Love in the air everywhere.   Anyway, the course closed in 8 hrs & I finished 11 minutes EARLY, so I got a Finisher's Rock.   Yessss!!!!!   (I did this for a frickin ROCK???!?!?   I should be getting a NEW CAR, man!!!!!)   Tog said that almost everyone he saw was bloody.   Never ever ever ever ever do That again!!!!   Rumor has it that the views were incredible, but every time I looked 8” in front of my toes I was either A) TERRIFIED of the view or B) I fell down or C) both.   O h,   And 77-year-old Bob Hayes kicked my aRse.   I think he finished in 6.5 hrs or something.   I can't beeelieve it.   I thought For Sure that I could kick His aRSe.   But I guess his wife had been slowing him down at Big Horn & when he's alone, he is (Obviously) AMAZING.   There you have it.   So this is my report.   YOU could actually probably do this run & might even enjoy it.   To me, it gives the phrase “killer views,” a whole new meaning.   I hope that if I ever say that I am even considering it again, you will promptly hit me in head with baseball bat.   It would feel about the same, but if I went with the baseball bat option, I'm sure someone would bring me donuts in the hospital, which is more than what I would receive at the race.