Fred Shufflebarger (known as "The Laguna Man" elsewhere in these pages) ran with Warady from St. George, Utah to Cedar City, Utah, a distance of 52 miles, mostly up hill. Fred will attest to the fact that David's ankle was swollen to the size of a large grapefruit from the start of the run to the finish. It remained similarly swollen for the next nine days. David Warady was injured for 44 of those 64 days, and yet, miraculously, he finished the race in perfect health, a scant one pound heavier than when he started. So much for losing weight by running! If you can't lose weight by running an average of 47 mile per day, how far will you need to run to lose weight?

During his career David ran personal records of 16 minutes for the 5K, 34 minutes for the 10K and 2:34 for the marathon. In his final year of running, 1995, he trudged through 20 feet of snow for the first 25 miles and went on to finish 33rd over all, in a time of 23 hours and 42 minutes, in the prestigious Western States 100 Mile Endurance Run. There were competitors from 17 different nations competing in that race. The end of the year brought two 50K race wins and course records, one by over 40 minutes. The most significant of the two was his victory at the Cuyamuca 50K, where he defeated a strong field. In that race he set a course record that I believe still stands.

This is David's story, told in his own words:

David Warady - One Man's Short Journey - 7/21/2001

While participating in the 1992 Runner's World Trans America Footrace, a 64 day, 3000 mile stage race, was the highlight of my running career, the 28 year journey to get there, friendships made, successes, failures, and lessons learned along the way made the journey more worthwhile than actually winning the race.

My first memories of running go back to grammar school. I remember, in the bitter cold of Chicago, playing tackle tag on a field of snow three feet deep, and most often ending up the last person running. The downside of this was more guys to jump on and cream you once you were finally caught. Still, it was a badge of honor to be the last man standing. Then there was preparing for those sweltering 2-a-day Pop Warner Football practices in the humidity of the bug infested Midwestern summer. For this, I would run ten times around Rogers Park, equaling five miles total. The last early memory I have that may have pointed to future running achievements was when I was around 14 years old and challenged myself to a 13 mile round-trip run to a distant shopping center and back. I didn't have a clue about aid in those days so I doubt I carried any. Somehow, I completed the run in grand fashion and without incident.

For approximately ten years, I lived, breathed, and looked for every opportunity to play basketball. Hoops were my passion. Track and cross country teams were non-existent in the concrete jungles of Chicago, so running was not an option. It was in basketball, though, that I probably laid the most significant groundwork for subsequent running achievements. I could play basketball forever, all day long, everyday of the week. I was almost always the last man standing having more than an abundance of energy at the end of games. Competitors hated defending against me for I ran them ragged (and or course, into as many of their own teammates as possible).

After basketball, I entered college, but didn't buy my first pair of running shoes until my Junior year in 1978 when my Marketing Professor, Tom Somora, introduced a few of us to a Runner's World series of articles about training for a marathon. Tom organized a few training runs, and I became hooked on running, having also followed and been inspired by the Bill Rodgers 1972 American Record at the Boston Marathon and Frank Shorter marathon successes at the 1972 and 1976 Olympics. For support I had my first real running mentor nearby, Marty Fink, who thrashed me on a daily basis that whole summer of 1978, but always offered positive and invaluable guidance. So, with Tom's impetus, Marty's mentorship, and my training and interest level, I started training for my first marathon, the 1978 Sacramento Marathon, two 13.1 mile loops, at the end of summer, in brutally hot Sacramento. Since Tom was basically new to the sport and Marty was more of a 1-2 miler and knew little of long distance training, I pretty much used the Runner's World articles on marathon training as my guide and went on a 3-4 month training program. Then, in September of 1978, I completed my first marathon in 3:09, but not without swearing to the running gods in the sky that if they would let me survive the last 4 miles of the marathon, I would never, ever, attempt another marathon again. The running gods complied.

The running gods may have complied, but I didn't hold up my end of the bargain. Shortly thereafter, I was planning my next marathon, my first sub-3 hour attempt, the 1979 Sacramento Marathon, which I completed in 2:58.

Now I started feeling like a runner, and was mainly motivated to become the best runner I was capable of becoming. For the next 7 years, I trained with the Buffalo Chips Running Club of Sacramento and worked under the mentorship of George Parrot, Steve Daniels, and Dave Charez. Where Steve and Dave, both high school and college runners, were super great training partners, George was more of a coach and motivator. George encouraged me to push myself harder, and due to his encouragement I started doing more long, hard workouts in the 8-10 mile range, all at sub-6 minute per mile pace. This type of training brought me new levels of success, a few victories in shorter races, and respectable times of 4 miles in 21:00, 10 miles in sub-59:00, and the marathon in 2:52.

At this point in my career, I had been running and racing for about 8 years, and although I thought I had more abilities, I didn't know how to go about getting to them. I trained harder and more often than any of my teammates, I subscribed to and read everything related to training, trained with George Parrot and the Buffalo Chips, but in spite of all those positives, something was lacking. Then in 1986, I graduated with my MBA from Sacramento State, and ventured to Southern California for work, bringing with me, my feelings of untouched running abilities. My goal was to find a job not too challenging or demanding, and to give myself the opportunity to become the best runner possible no matter how long it took.

After securing the job, I started searching for running clubs in Orange County, I happened upon Loeschhorn's For Runners in Fountain Valley. This was back in March of 1986. Not only did they have a running club that met weekly, but had a coach, John Loeschhorn, who did individualized coaching. Inquiring at the store about the individualized training, I ran into John, who explained his program in his usual brisk and frank kind of way, and I decided to check it out. Little did I know that it would lead to the 10 best years of my career with John providing the coaching and environment for me to excel. The growth I made and the accomplishments I achieved could not have been obtained without Coach John's help, guidance, and friendship. These years produced a number of wins and course records, but more importantly, the lessons learned along the way, by training hard, spending time running and breaking bread with fellow teammates, and by working consistently over a period of years to become a better and more experienced runner.

John's approach was perfect for my temperament. He was very low key and didn't sweat the small stuff. It was with his program I started learning the value of looking at your running on more of a long term approach. Training with John consisted of one track workout during the week at Golden West College and at least one long run on the weekend, the first based out of John's old store in Mission Viejo where he would put on his famous one hour lectures at 7am before we ran 15-20 miles usually racing the last 2-5 miles depending upon who was feeling frisky at the time. The cast of characters usually included Fast Freddy, Dymphno, The Cowler, Marty, Scott, Roy, Gene, Sherri, and whoever else John could entice along.

Many of these runs became quite interesting for me because I believed, that the highest fitness level, obtained through an abundance of miles, overtraining some call it, was the ticket to long term success. Quite regularly I would trudge down to John's store at 2-3am to run 14-28 miles before his 7am lecture (my record was 35, ask Fast Freddy) always trying to con other teammates into joining me but only ever getting our old pal, Gene Martin, on any type of regular basis. I would also, surreptitiously, plant extra water bottles along the course we would eventually run later to provide myself with the advantage of an additional aid stop. So, all in all, many of those Saturday morning runs ending up being up to 50 miles training runs.

On top of these types of long runs, the super hard core runners like John and Fred would get out to run the trails of Cleveland National Forest all day Sunday. I tagged along, dying all the way, to get some trail running experience under my belt. Only years later, probably at least 7 or 8, did I get competent enough to strut my stuff out on the trails. Only a neophyte until then. I tipped my cap to the two war horses.

My first big breakthrough came 1 1/2 years after working with John as my Coach. John convinced me to join him in the 1987 West Coast 50 Mile Race, the Southern California 50 Mile District Championships for 1987. It would be my first ultramarathon race. He thought I would be a natural for the distance because of my diet of high mileage training. I agreed and the rest is all history. John and I toed the starting line together, and ran together for much of the beginning before he left me in his dust. I just kept hanging on to my comfortable 7 minute per mile pace. Shortly before mile 30, who do I see off in the distance walking, but Coach John. I couldn't believe it. He, unfortunately, didn't have the best of days, but would go on to have many more great ones. This time, though, I was being handed the lead with over twenty miles to go with a pretty tough competitor in Bill "Mad Dog" Scobbie, an ex-sub 2:20 marathoner, lurking behind. But with my fitness level, determination, and, John's coaching guidance, I maintained my lead and held off Mad Dog by a few minutes breaking the 6 hour barrier for a 5:58 finish, and a 7:09 per mile average for the 50 miles.

The funny thing in running is that no matter how great the accomplishments you attain you are not shielded from totally humbling experiences. No one is exempt from this either. Ask any athlete who's been around for any length of time. Well, now that I thought I was Superman after winning the first ultramarathon I entered, I was ready to take on anything. With that attitude I signed up for the 1987 San Juan Trail 50, one of the tougher 50 mile trail races around, only 5 weeks after my West Coast 50 win. Well, this Superman was humbled and reduced to mere Superdust. It was the longest and most painful experience I had had up to that point in my running career. The pain was so deep that it ended up keeping me bedridden for two straight days. For one of the first times in what would be dozens to come, I dehydrated out on the trail, incredibly easy to do if you're not careful. I remember James Bond passing me early around Sugar Loaf at 7-8 miles and thinking that it was going to be a long, long, painful day. Sometime, well into darkness, I staggered across the finish line, in around 150th place, weary, tired, sore, but with Coach John, Baz, and many of my teammates clapping upon my arrival across the finish line. That meant a lot to me.

Regardless of the humbling nature of that experience, I continued to train long and hard, year after year, to reach my potential as a runner. I would be in triple digits in the mileage department whenever possible. My training would include up to 3 track workouts per week and up to 3 long runs, 1 on trails in the mountains. Running 10-20 miles before work was not that uncommon, even if trackwork was planned for the evening. Neither was throwing out a blanket at a local park for a lunchtime nap or napping in the cab or my truck if it was raining out. I would normally run all seven days, up to twice per day, rain or shine, but wouldn't be distraught if I missed a day or two here and there for, if anything, I always welcomed the additional rest.

In terms of career milestones, I reached some significant speed breakthroughs in the early 90's, after stringing together multiple years of higher mileage and faster track training with John and his troops, and running with Rob McNair as a regular morning training partner. Resultantly, I ran 2:34 in the 1991 Las Vegas Marathon, one of three sub-2:40 performances, ran 56:54 for 10 miles, and could run around 4:50 for the mile.

This combination of reasonably fast speed in spite of an abnormally high mileage training diet, made Coach John point me in the direction of transcontinental footraces when, in 1991, it was announced that Michael Kenney and Jesse Dale Riley would be putting on the 1992 Trans America Footrace. John thought that the race would be ideal for the type of runner I was - decent speed and could come back hard day after day after day. We started looking at and talking about the possibilities, for John had himself experienced participating in the Sahara Desert and Race Across New York multiday races. For practice, I entered a Fall, 12 hour race and Winter 6 Day Race. In both of these races I did much worse than I would have expected given my abilities and conditioning level at the time of the race, but in both I learned lessons that proved far more valuable for the actual Trans Am race itself. Both of those seemingly negative experiences helped reinforce the importance of reasonable pacing and the fact that you could recover from injuries while you are continuing to run. One doesn't need bed rest to recover from injuries, you can do it actively, while you run, if the priority is high enough.

Armed with this knowledge, John put together a training and racing plan that included a race simulation effort, approximately four days of 50 miles per day totaling over 200 miles, about five to six weeks before the actual event. Our goal was to let that multiday training sequence be preparation for the initial days of the race and to start at an easy enough pace to let my body adapt to the day to day stress of 50+ miles. The training and racing plans worked perfectly and I went on to win the race by almost 6 hours having at one time led by 18 1/2 hours with 12 days to go. I cruised into New York!

Winning the Trans Am was definitely a lot of fun. It was the result of years and years of hard work and was accompanied by more help than I could ever attempt to remember from my family, friends, and running teammates. I still remember the "going away" party the Loeschhorn clan threw for me before the 1992 Trans Am race. And having John, Gail, Fred, Marty, and Scott meet me for "stages" along the way. And being able to speak with the Coach at least once a week. I still remember running across the finish line in New York City with a red Loeschhorn's Running Club singlet on too, something Runner's World, wasn't the most overjoyed about. And then there were my parents and family surprising me at the finish line. And the "coming back" party at Hwaja Andrade's house that so many clubmates attended. Other neat experiences resulting from winning the Trans Am were getting to meet Ted Corbitt (Father of Ultrarunning), Fred Lebow (NYC Marathon Race Director), George Hirsch (publisher Runner's World), helping design an ASICS advertisement and photo shoot that ended up in more than 20 different magazines, and doing numerous TV, radio, and motivational speaking appearances.

My running career, unfortunately, took a turn for the worst. I foundered from late 1992 until 1995. The impact of running across the country, physically and emotionally, took its toll. Establishing new goals was difficult, as even was the physical recovery which took over 2 years. During 1995 I found renewed life in my running spirit and was once again training with a vengeance. That year, my goal was finishing fast enough to get a Silver Belt Buckle at the Western States 100 Mile Trail Race. With two of my ace training partners and friends Rob McNair and Scott McKenzie as my pacers, we trudged through the 20 feet of early snow to sneak in just under the 24 hour Silver Belt Buckle cutoff in 23:42 to finished 33rd overall in my first and ONLY attempt - I had my Silver Belt Buckle!!!

I was in such great shape as a result of training for Western States, I decided to leverage the fitness obtained for the rest of the summer. It ended up being my best trail racing season and my last good running year overall ever. The end of the year brought two 50K race wins and course records, one by over 40 minutes but one more important, the 1995 Cuyamuca 50K, which I won over some pretty formidable competitors by 15 minutes setting a course record that still stands, or at least it did for 5 years through the 2000 race I've been told.

Shortly after those successes, my running career took a final downturn, for I was diagnosed with arthritis in my right hip. I had been having problems that stretching temporarily seemed to help, but the pain had advanced to the point where mere running was painful and even painful running regressed to 3 mile efforts at 10 minutes per mile. I quickly was faced with the decision of never being able to run pain free again and having to find an alternative sport to transfer my competitive spirit. Resultantly, I have taken up long distance cycling which doesn't have the impact nor cause as much pain as running did. Already, in less than two years, I've ridden my first competitive 100 mile, century, in 5:42 and attempted two 508 mile RAAM qualifying events around Death Valley and Oregon.

So for me, I guess that running has taken me to all extremes, from rookie to master, from back of the pack to champion. If I was asked to explain it, I wouldn't be doing it justice to even try. If I was asked for advice, I could only encourage others to get out and experience it themselves. If you find you like it, share it with others and learn from others through joining clubs, getting coaches, being around others with similar goals and ambitions. And remember some key maxims along the way such as: "the road to mastery is not a straight road, it is a road that twists and winds around unforeseen obstacles, often revisiting previous destinations" and "training is more than just running, training involves goals and a plan to achieve those goals." Enjoy the journey!