Team Continuum Athlete Thomas Tan participates in his first ultra-marathon. Read his story below.
Prologue
I couldn’t help but think of the bright yellow 4 x 6 note that was placed in my Race Packet, a courtesy of the Race Management which I appreciated but it was nevertheless suspiciously inconspicuous.
I’d been running/hiking on Bighorn Mountains in Wyoming for about 5 hrs and the late morning temperature was getting noticeably hot. Rattlesnakes, which can’t regulate their own body temperature, are less active during cool times than during warm ones. In other words, they come out if it’s warm enough for them to be active. Every time I thought I heard a sound that even remotely resembled a rattle, I would jump or pick up my pace, all the while thinking, “If I get bitten by a rattlesnake, my wife will kill me!”
Highlights
My first 50-mile ultra-marathon had everything I had hoped for—a challenging and endorphin-triggering course that tested and pushed my personal limits, yet incredibly scenic and wild, coupled with good weather and great company. The event took place on June 21, 2008 in the Little Bighorn-Tongue River areas of the Bighorn National Forest, offering a grueling course that was geologically unique to the rugged terrains of Bighorn Mountains.
I “ran into” ultra-running elites and junkies at the Race Expo and on the course, from the seventh-time winner of Western States 100, Scott Jurek, to the ever-friendly and humble, Gary Knipling, who completed his 10th Massanutten Mountain 100-Mile Trail Run last year, to the self-proclaimed Dirt Diva, Catra Corbett, who was hard to miss with her 22 body piercings and over 100 tattoos.
The overall male and female winning time is 8 hrs 11 min and 9 hrs 29 min, respectively. Although I was clearly out of my league, nothing could describe the overwhelming feelings and emotions bombarding me when I crossed the finish line in 13 hrs 47 min, ahead of only 15 runners out of 106 runners and a handful of DNFs (the much-dreaded acronym for “Did Not Finish”). I did, however, win something–a brand new pair of Brooks Cascadia 3, my favorite trail running shoes, from a door prize drawing at Scott Jurek’s seminar at the Race Expo. And, I was a step closer to my goal of running a marathon or longer distance in each State with Wyoming being my 13th.
“Man, you sure picked a very tough course for your first 50!” a fellow runner at the Race Expo commented when he found out that I was a virgin 50 miler.
“Oh, well, I’ll do my best and see what happens”, I forced a grin in return.
Race day
The run was scheduled to start at Dry Fork Ridge rather than the usual Porcupine Ranger due to 3 feet of snow and 7 foot drifts at the latter station. A week before the event, we had received an email from the Race Management informing us that a contingency course was implemented for the safety of the runners and volunteers, and that the alternate course would be equally challenging as the original course.
We caught our bus at 4 AM at Scott Bicentennial Park in the town of Dayton. The 90-min drive to Dry Fork Ridge was uneventful amidst a mix of chatter and attempts to sleep. Even though we were climbing to about 7,600 feet in elevation, it was still dark being early in the morning to enjoy our view outside of our windows. I tried to take a nap but found myself mostly staring blankly into the darkness while munching on my Bagel-fuls for some last-minute carbohydrate-loading. The sun showed itself an hour into the trip, slowly revealing our beautiful surroundings. The temperature was getting chilly and we could see snow on the ground in spots as we continued our climb to the Start area.
We eventually arrived at Dry Fork Ridge, at around 5:30 AM. After checking in and using the porta potties, we got back on the bus to stay warm until minutes before the Start at 6:00 AM. Activities in the bus ran the gamut, from runners casually changing into their running wears and gears to applying Vaseline to their feet, to chomping on energy bars and drowning sport drinks.
Following a nice rendition of the national anthem by a local talent, we were finally off. My goal was to simply finish under the cut-off time of 15 hrs. My strategy was equally simple: to get to each aid station by its cut-off time.
2008 Bighorn Mountain 50-Mile Trail Run Aid Stations and Cut-off Times:

The first 13-mile run down to Bear Camp, at 6,800 feet, was exhilarating. I was mesmerized by the beauty and grandness of Bighorn Mountains, my heart pounding with excitement. I wanted to scream out loud and take full advantage of the downhill but even this virgin 50 miler knew that would be a huge mistake being this early in the course. I went out conservatively, arriving at Bear Camp at about 8:30 AM.
With the exception of my feet being wet fromcrossing several streams, I felt great. The cut-off time at the Footbridge aid station, at 4,500 feet, was 10:30 AM which gave me plenty of time to tackle the steep 3.5-mile descent. But this precipitous downward slope was not to be underestimated. The trail was quite rough with very uneven footing. Instead of flowing effortlessly with gravity, I found myself staggering on what turned out to be one brutal, ‘quad-busting’ and seemingly never-ending descent.
As I got closer to Footbridge at 16.5 miles, I could hear the roar of Tongue River. We literally had to cross a bridge called Footbridge to get to the first fully equipped aid station.
“Do you have a drop bag?” one of the aid station volunteers asked.
I nodded and before I could utter a word, the volunteer yelled out my bib number and soon my drop bag was brought to me as I was seated.
While my two hand-held bottles were being re-filled with water and my selection of food was brought to me on a paper plate, I changed my wet socks out for dry ones. Other than an emerging blister on my left foot, my wrinkled up feet looked reasonably OK. I checked my watch: 9:25 AM. It had taken me almost an hour to cover the last 3.5-mile section!
After changing into my Team Continuum uniform and wolfing down some boiled potatoes, a peanut butter sandwich, and two fresh-off-the-grill bacons, I finally forced myself up from the folding chair and grabbed five Accel Gels from my drop bag and thanked the awesome volunteers before I made my exit from Footbridge at 9:30 AM.
Footbridge was the turnaround point where runner must now return to Dry Fork Ridge. That meant we now face our first major climb of 2,200 feet in 3.5 miles, back up to Bear Camp!
It would take me 2 hours to hike back up to Bear Camp, at mile 20. By now, the field had thinned out significantly and I was mostly alone on the trail. As my bottles were being re-filled, I noticed the full name of this stop point is actually “Bear HUNTING Camp”. As I left the aid station at 11:30 AM, I began to wonder nervously why they named the aid station as such. While bear danger is real, I was told the risks are low—if you make noise and don’t surprise them! Even if you’re an elite speedster, it would not be wise to try to outrun a 500-pound bear as it has the reflexes of a cat. Trail runners often shout “Hey, bear!” when running downhill through the trees.
“Get out of the way, you big fur-ball! Watch out, coming through!” I ran the next 7 miles on pure adrenaline.
The course eventually levels off slightly as I reached Cow Camp at 27 miles at about 1:20 PM. But not for long, as between Cow Camp and Dry Fork aid stations were 6 miles of gradual uphill, mainly on a heavily rutted 4-wheel drive road that kept me hopping back and forth to find the best footing. This section was also exposed and the afternoon heat was starting to get to me.
I could see Dry Fork Ridge from about 2 miles away as it was located on a saddle point between two higher points on the horizon. The sunlight was reflected off the vehicles at the aid station, making the location easy to spot. I arrived at Dry Fork Ridge at mile 33 with more than hour before the 4 PM cut-off. Although I was in good spirits, the long and slow ascent from Footbridge to Dry Fork Ridge had taken a toll on me as I felt my legs were starting to give away. I also realized I was in uncharted territory as I had never run beyond 33 miles in one stretch.
“Just 17 more to go, Thomas”, I tried to stay positive as I sat down and took a moment to enjoy the spectacular view and the refreshingly cool mountain breeze.
The next cut-off time was 5:30 PM at the Upper Sheep Creek aid station, about 5 miles from Dry Fork Ridge. I took my time to change into dry socks and running shoes, but eventually was able to tear myself away from the comfort of the lawn chair and reluctantly made my exit from Dry Fork Ridge at about 3:15 PM.
It does not matter how slow you go, as long as you don’t stop.
–Confucius
I was moving slowly all right. The next section consisted of relentless up-and-down terrains through small water crossings. My feet were soaked again and I found myself running awkwardly to minimize the pain emanating from the burgeoning blister on my left foot. The magnificent scenery, the surrounding mountains and the solitude of my running somehow kept pushing me on. It was what ultra runners call ‘perpetual motion’ or ‘relentless forward motion’. It was not pretty, but I was moving forward.
“What’s Team Continuum?” a runner sneaking up behind me was referring to my colorful technical shirt for the Boston Marathon.
“It’s a non-profit organization takes care of the immediate needs of cancer patients. I am running to raise funds for the organization!” I replied proudly.
“Good for you!” the runner then left me in the dust. She nevertheless reminded me of my commitment and promise to Team Continuum.
I have lost my grandparents, father-in-law and several aunts to cancer and I have friends battling the disease. As a drug discovery scientist in cancer research, I know first hand that it takes many years to develop a drug, yet time is everything to many cancer patients. I have always wanted to do my small part in raising awareness in this issue and I at last found refugee in Team Continuum. I signed up with the Team to run the Boston Marathon on April 21 this year to raise $3000. Although I completed the marathon, with an official finish time of 3 hrs and 57 min, I have not reached my fundraising goal. It is not because of a lack of effort on my part. I ran the New York City Marathon last year and successfully raised $2680 for Team Continuum. Maybe folks are feeling less generous this year, or maybe I haven’t tried hard enough. I can’t control the former, but I can try harder.
“So here you are, Thomas. Stop whining and try harder.”
By the time I dragged myself to Upper Sheep Creek at mile 38 at around 5 PM, I was quite spent.

“The next cut-off is 7:30 PM. You have 2.5 hrs to cover about 7 miles, and it’s all downhill from here!” a volunteer tried to cheer me up.
With my bottles re-filled, I gobbled down more boiled potatoes and snatched a handful of Reese’s peanut butter cups with me before I began the 5-mile descent to the Lower Sheep Creek station at 5025 feet. Despite being a narrow rut and full of rocks, the decline provided a welcome change and I was able to settle into a steady pace. I eventually caught up to a few runners and kept them in my sight.
When I arrived at Lower Sheep Creek at mile 42.9 at about 6:20 PM, I knew I was going to make it. There was not a doubt in my mind. With new-found energy and determination, I continued to attack the downhill to the Tongue River Trailhead aid station at 4,225 feet. This section leading into the breathtaking canyon was perhaps my favorite part of the course, though the trail clings perilously close to the edge, contouring high above the powerful and thunderous Tongue River below, which became my companion as I put one foot in front of the other and shuffled on.

When I left Tongue River Trailhead at mile 45.2 at 7:05 PM, I was relieved to be running on a relatively flat gravel road for the remaining distance as my knees had taken a severe beating from the 3,000 plus feet of rapid and high impact descent. When I saw the final aid station, appropriately named Homestretch, at mile 48.4, I focused on quick turnover and surprised myself by holding on to sub-8 min/mile, overtaking a few runners and exchanging greetings and encouragement. Soon I was entering Dayton, and then Scott Bicentennial Park, where the Finish and BBQ picnic gala awaited, to cheers and applause from the waiting crowd.
I crossed under the finish banner at 7:49 PM with plenty of time and daylight left for me to savor the heavenly hamburgers while I submerged my weary legs in the cold water of Tongue River.
Epilogue
The next morning, after a hearty breakfast consisted of pancakes and smoked ham held in conjunction with the Awards Ceremony in downtown Sheridan, I drove to the Logan International Airport in Billings, Montana to catch my flight to San Antonio, Texas. I had been invited to serve as an expert on a team of scientific panel to visit and evaluate a state-of-the-art research facility. For the next 3 days, we were put up at a nice hotel, wined and dined at fine restaurants, indulged in thought-provoking scientific discussions, and saw some of the country’s most sophisticated and guarded equipment that science has to offer. But occasionally, I found myself drifting away, day-dreaming and craving for the peace, beauty, and euphoria I had experienced up in the mountains of Bighorn.
The more restricted our society and work becomes the more necessary it will be to find some outlet for this craving for freedom.
–Sir Roger Bannister