Iron Man: The Last Desert Dave Kuhnau conquers 155-mile Antarctica run

Editor’s note: This day-by-day account of Team Illinois’ experience in The Last Desert race in Antarctica is excerpted and paraphrased from The Power of Team by Peter Wortham (Author House: 2007) and an interview with Dave Kuhnau ’92.

Thursday, Jan. 26, 2006

The final race in the 4 Desert Series would deviate from the format used in the other desert challenges. Six stages were compressed to four, with the bulk of the race run in a single 100-mile stage spanning up to three days.

Stage one, on King George Island, was set as a warm-up run of only six miles, a chance for the competitors to test out clothing combinations and running conditions. It would also be a chance to get used to the wind that could be dangerous near the southern tip of the world.

Lodging would be different than on the previous races. Aside from the long stage where competitors could take advantage of a permanent building on the Argentinean research base, they would return to the safety of the Dap Mares ship each night. With temperatures around zero and winds kicking up to 60 mph without warning, the ship would provide protection from the unpredictability of the elements.

As soon as Team Illinois left the starting line, Nancy could hear the distinct sound of fabric ripping. She initially assumed it was just her backpack’s strap or her jacket adjusting to the load of the pack. A second later, Nancy was holding one shoulder strap, as it had torn completely off. She would continue to run the entire distance of the first stage holding onto the strap, with the weight of the pack distributed fully to the other shoulder.

As they began their first mile, Dave was off in his own world. Running forced him to think about things he didn’t care to remember, such as the death of his sister Tamara ’89, just seven weeks earlier, and the strain their relationship had been under during the last five years. Perhaps because running provided much time for reflection, Dave had not trained as hard as he usually did. He began the competition 15 pounds over his ideal race weight and without the training mileage he had compiled for the previous races.

That night, while the athletes tried to fall asleep in their bunks, the Dap Mares wasn’t cooperating. The rolling sea raised and lowered the bow of the ship by nearly 20 feet, rocking everyone to the point of seasickness.

Friday, Jan. 27, 2006

The second stage, near Hope Bay at the tip of the Antarctic Peninsula, would span two days or more. Competitors were required to carry sleeping bags and enough clothing to keep them dry. Multiple loops of different distances and terrains were marked out so the combination of the mileage, multiplied by the number of laps, would eventually total 100 miles. Because of the varying weather conditions, the research station’s mess hall doubled as the sleeping shelter and first aid station for the entire 100-mile stage.

Team Illinois ran the first loop 10 times before a mandatory lunch break. After the stop, the runners took a second, rocky loop that featured milder hill climbs but significant wind gusts.

The course overall was made up of firm ground. Rather than forcing runners to negotiate energy-depleting dune climbs as on the previous desert races, the rocky terrain required more mental focus to avoid potential ankle-twisting obstacles.

The trail loop included a stunning view of the harbor from a rocky overhang. Near the tallest rock formation at the edge of the cliff, grave markers and a permanent monument had been built to commemorate those whose lives were lost on past Antarctic expeditions. Dave had noticed the view and the calmness of the harbor as they passed by it earlier in the day. He called out to Joel to stop, without explaining why.

Dave asked Joel to help him retrieve a small bottle out of his backpack. There was a peaceful silence surrounding Dave, except for a slight breeze brushing past his back and out to sea. He looked down at the ground at first with a pause and then released the small bottle of his sister’s ashes. Tamara had run the equivalent of multiple marathons with Dave after all, and he had selected a beautiful place for her to rest. The view from the cliff was spectacular, overlooking the serenity of the harbor, the penguin rookeries and a few icebergs floating quietly out to sea.

There would be another mandatory dinner break after the 10 loops were completed, and all competitors returned to the safety of the mess hall. The winds had increased to near 40 knots, and the weather reports from the ship indicated a combined wind chill factor of 30 degrees below zero. The course was becoming dangerous and dark, so the race was called off at 9 p.m.

Saturday, Jan. 28, 2006

Everyone was awakened around 2:30 a.m. to get ready for a 3 a.m. restart, even though the temperature had dropped again and the winds had increased. The pace was very slow because there were obstacles to be avoided and winds pushing the competitors in every direction.

At a food break, Team Illinois found they had 19 more loops to go until the stage was completed, and everyone else seemed to be well ahead of them. “That moment marked a change in our team,” said Nancy. “With the end in sight, we were able to work a little harder. We took on a single focus: Get under 10 loops before dinner. That was less than five hours away, so we knew we needed to be focused. We had been taking a break every five loops, but now we didn’t rest. We headed in four minutes early for dinner with nine loops to go.”

At one point, Dave, who had been reclusive during the entire stage, decided to take a break and lie on the ground. Joel came over and demanded that he get up. Dave argued with him about knowing his body well enough to take the two-minute rest, but Joel responded, “I’m the only one here who has run a 100-mile race before, and I’m telling you the worst thing you can do is lie down. We have to keep moving!” Dave agreed to get back up and keep his muscles in motion.

Later, Dave saw Kevin Lin, a Taiwan native who eventually would be named the 4 Deserts champion for having the best overall placing in the series races, nearly being pushed off the trail by a strong gust. Kevin had always been fast and strong through the hot weather desert races, but the larger and heavier runners fared better in the strong wind gusts and blizzard conditions of Antarctica. During the same stretch of road, Nancy, Joel and Dave clutched arms together in anticipation of the gust, their strength holding them firmly to the gravel road.

Sunday, Jan. 29, 2006

Another mandatory break was taken around 3 a.m. Team Illinois took a brief nap and then headed back out on the course to finish the last few laps. Exhausted, they resumed a running pace for the last few hundred yards of the stage and held hands together as they crossed the finish line.

After a few hours of rest, the participants headed toward the ship in small inflatable rubber “Zodiac” boats as the wind kicked up huge waves in the harbor. Approaching the ship, the crew threw two rope ladders over the side. Nancy put her head down and started to cry, saying “I’m going to die!” between sobs. The driver pulled up to the ship and kept bumping the front end of the Zodiac into the cargo hold. Every time he bumped, someone was supposed to jump into the ship. After the first person fell back into the Zodiac, the crew successfully caught the athletes, and the competitors retired to their cabins to warm up, check for frostbite damage, and take a hot shower.

Monday, Jan. 30, 2006

The ship sailed to Deception Island, a still-active volcano under the sea, for the next leg of the race, a marathon. The soil was nearly perfect for running, with smaller rocky terrain and hard, packed sand. The natural running trail absorbed a little of the shock as feet impacted the soil but gave enough support to allow runners’ legs to push ahead. This was Team Illinois’ kind of running.

Dave and Joel started running strong and pulled Nancy with them slightly away from the rest of the pack. In the early part of the race, she could feel the energy returning to her team. She ran alongside Dave and said, “This is your sister’s day. Can you tell? She is loaning us her wings.” For the first time in the race, Dave refocused his attention on his two running partners.

Tuesday, Jan. 31, 2006

Dap Mares sailed back to King George Island for the final loop of the 155-mile challenge. Just before loading into Zodiac boats for the final stage, the athletes realized this might be the last time they would see each other in competition, and they shared stories from the previous desert races. The group of 15 competitors who had conquered three other continents and the world’s most extreme deserts relived the memories of bad food, massive blisters and grueling course designs.

A portion of the last stage included running on top of a glacier. Feeling more like wet, packed snow than ice, the surface of the glacier wasn’t as bad to run on as the competitors feared.

As Team Illinois neared the end of the 18-mile stage, they sprinted toward the finish. “I was happy and sad and I wanted to cry,” said Nancy, “because it meant so much to be done. When I did cry, it wasn’t because I felt like I had done the impossible (like the first race in Atacama), but because it was over and it was one of the most meaningful journeys in my life.”

“Before we got to the finish line, a bunch of icebergs had floated up on shore,” said Dave, “so we finished among a small cathedral of icebergs with penguins around. It was really cool. The most striking thing about the Last Desert race was standing in the middle of Antarctica and realizing how far away we were from humans. We were amidst a ton of life, but it was wildlife.”