A humble hero for a humble sport
As his career winds down, ultrarunning legend Tim Twietmeyer takes a look at his own legacy
By James Raia After nearly 140 marathons and ultramarathons, runner Tim Twietmeyer is realistic about the future. "Although I can't run faster times forever, my mind won't let me lower my expectations yet," says 37-year-old Twietmeyer. "I'm probably hanging on by a tattered thread and my body might not be able to keep up with my mind." On June 29, Twietmeyer will run his 15th Western States 100-Mile Endurance Run, attempting to defend his title and chalk up win number four. With perhaps the strongest men's field assembled in the race's history, Twietmeyer will again be among the favorites at the 20th running of the country's most prestigious ultramarathon. As tradition dictates, the estimated field of 375 runners will begin the rugged trail at the base of Squaw Valley ski resort in California. The course, which includes some 40,000 feet of elevation change, progresses through historic gold-mining towns and concludes in the foothill community of Auburn. Twietmeyer first read about Western States in 1980, and the following year he made his debut at age 22. Back then, it was a much different event. Fanny packs weren't yet the rage. Aid stations were fewer and farther between. Thirsty runners often had only one choice: find a stream. "I remember we all walked to the start about five minutes before the race," the six-foot three-inch, 175-pound Twietmeyer recalls. "One of the entrants played the bagpipes. I was looking around at all the guys I'd read about and said to myself, 'This is pretty cool.'" Twietmeyer ended up finishing 25th in just over 22 hours at that first race, and he has finished (with a time of less than 24 hours) almost every year since then. The lone exception was 1984, when he wasn't selected in the entry lottery. He claimed the first of his three titles in 1992, and has twice come in second. His 14 finishes are two more than anyone else has. But the humble champion says he regards the competition with other runners as secondary. And that's not just talk. Last year Twietmeyer stopped during the early snow-covered stages of the race to help the controversial Tarahumaran Indians find their way. One of his biggest rivals, Ann Trason, is also a friend and training partner. (Trason, a seven-time women's division winner and multiple world record-holder from Kensington, California, has placed second to Twietmeyer the past two years.) Trason may be Twietmeyer's toughest competition again this year. She plans to vie for her eighth straight women's title less than two weeks after winning the 54-mile Comrades Marathon in South Africa. Twietmeyer's competition will also include Eric Clifton, Brian Purcell, Mike Morton, and Carl Andersen--all winners of at least one of the country's dozen 100-mile trail runs. Tom Johnson of Loomis, California, the Western States course record-holder in 15:54, finished seventh at Comrades, and is a possible entrant. "There's not a runner in the race who would get a rise out of me going by me," said Twietmeyer. "I don't have any problem with anyone going by me because the race is not about me against the other runners." Twietmeyer has built his career not by becoming a fierce competitor but by learning the terrain, with conditions at Western States varying from 30 miles of snow to temperatures exceeding 110 degrees. He experiments with his body's tolerances and improves upon what he calls his "former self." Although Twietmeyer's training mileage has remained steady for 10 years, he has refined his approach to the race. He knows when and where he can take risks. He has made some food and fluid changes, but relies on routine, too. He tries to drink one bottle of fluid every 30 minutes until at least the 62nd mile of the race. He carries crackers and raisin cookies and drinks a calorie-loaded dietary supplement. "I think I got to a point in Western States when I wasn't going to get much better from a running standpoint," he said. "The gains I've made after that are refining the other pieces of the run. The more knowledge of the course you have, the more you can use that to your advantage to help whatever strengths you have. Every year there's just some advancement of the sport that you want to apply." But as his unprecedented 15th Western States 100-Mile Endurance Run approaches, the three-time winner and defending champion from Auburn, California, is preparing to exchange his front-of-the-pack successes for less demanding but perhaps more enjoyable pursuits. As a husband and the father of three young sons and with increasing career responsibilities as a project manager for Hewlett-Packard, Twietmeyer knows another chapter of his life awaits. But as Twietmeyer prepares to leave the top ranks and settle into his role as suburban family man, his training this year shows that he is still in great form. He surprised himself with a sub-60-minute effort in a 10-miler while on vacation in Oregon. He won 50-milers in Arizona and Santa Rosa. And he finished the American River 50, the country's largest 50-mile run, for the 16th time. Humble about his future prospects, the champion runner is also quiet about his remarkable success. "Really, when you look at it, I could go out there and win 10 Western States outright and who would care?" he said. "Other than the ultra-running community and a few magazines, once you stopped running, no one would know. It's not like Nike is going to give me a million dollars and I could send my kids to Harvard or Stanford, get a ski chalet, retire, and buy new cars and everything. "So if you don't do it for your own personal satisfaction, it's kind of a weird deal. It's something you enjoy, but it's just another piece of the puzzle. You can't make too big a deal of it."
Twietmeyer's Western States legend James Raia is a syndicated journalist and long-distance runner in Sacramento, California. |