The Grand Slam of Ultrarunning consists of running four of the oldest 100 mile trail runs in the U.S. The "Slam" consists of officially finishing the Western States 100 Mile Endurance Run (usually in late June), the Vermont Trail 100 Mile Run (mid July), the Leadville Trail 100 Mile Run (mid August) and the Wasatch Front 100 Mile Endurance Run (1st weekend in September) all in the same year. These four 100 milers are usually covered in a period of 13 weeks.

The Grand Slam of Ultrarunning Award is a beautifully sculpted eagle head with engravings signifying the runner's name and accomplishment. Because Wasatch is the final leg of the four races, the Grand Slam awards are presented at the Wasatch Front 100 Mile Endurance Run banquet

The Western States 100 Mile Endurance Run was held June 28th-29th, 2003. It began in Squaw Valley USA and ended in the little town of Auburn, California. It was by far the most challenging race I had ever run. The course has a little bit of everything from rocks, to asphalt, to river crossings, to hills, to mountains, to switchbacks, etc.

As I mentioned earlier, the course has everything imaginable. The first 4.5 miles consist of an uphill climb from 6,200' to 8,700'. Along the way, we run through the backbones of several mountains and along the edge of some. The view from here is beautiful. One has to just pause and enjoy that "I'm on top of the world" feeling. Suddenly it gets tough. We start heading down those canyons everyone has been warning us about all week. They said it got to 105 degrees F down there. They are a steep downhill, too. If not careful, one can fly down them and a result burn the quads early in the race. Coming out of them is even worse! They are so damn steep that it's very hard to walk upright! And the carnage...there's lot here! Runners are looking like zombies! Only the strong mountain 'deer' get out of here quickly. The rest of us from "pancake" cities have to just suck it up and try to keep moving! At mile 78 there is a river crossing of about 150 feet! It is The American River and it is f-r-e-e-z-i-n-g cold! But, it numbs the legs and feels like a quick shower. At mile 96.8, we run through No Hands Bridge (the lowest point on the course at 500+ feet above sea level). This bridge sits on top of the American River and is just another of the many breath-taking views on this course. Just an easy 3.4 miles to go (this course is 100.2 miles long)!!! Yeah, right! The next 2.4 miles or so are another steep uphill climb! By now, forget the legs. The mind is getting desperate and impatient! It's like you know the stables are near, but you still can't smell or see them! I guess course officials want to give you one last taste of those climbs so you'll never forget them...as if we would! The cool thing is that coming out of this climb, one sees Auburn, California (the finish line town). The asphalt road is a blessing. This is the part were all pain is temporarily set aside, where one forgets about being drowsy, cranky or tired. This is where I told my pacer to not let anyone pass us going into Placer High Stadium (the finish line). I wanted to cruise on in without having to worry about chasing anyone down. And that's exactly what happened. We crossed the finish line and I thanked Jimmie (my pacer from Reno, Nevada) for hanging out with me for 32 miles. Shortly thereafter, my pulse and blood pressure were checked to see if I was going to make it! Suddenly, that lactic acid set in!!! Ouch! Everything is either stiff or hurts like hell!

The aid stations at WS are unique. They all seem to have doctors, nurses, and shiny happy people! They have experienced ultrarunners, too. And they all seem to be wearing the finisher's belt buckle I guess to inspire us to keep moving. To me, quitting was unacceptable and never crossed my mind! However, these unique people were there to get you through those slumps that many of us go through in long distance races.

Would I recommend this 100 miler? Of course! I would do it in a heartbeat. But, I wouldn't recommend it as a first 100 miler. It's too tough to make it the first one. Unless, you are brave and have done many marathons, 50 milers, an Ironman, etc. Basically put, "The will has got to be stronger than the skill!" And, it usually takes many races for one to get this tough-minded and stubborn!!! But, never mind me, go ahead and 'get some.' It'll be a blood and guts race, but you'll come out stronger in the end. I know I have!

The Vermont Trail 100 Miler was held July 19th-20th, 2003 in the town of South Woodstock. It was an out-and-back course with most of it being dirt/jeep roads and some asphalt.

The course, in comparison to Western States 100 is a lot easier. However, don't think for a second it is a 'cadillac' course either. The regional hills are demanding in their own way. There were some climbs as long as five miles! One in particular was from miles 83-88. I remember just trying to power walk only to find an unmanned aid station at the top! This was tough on the spirit. But, as I mentioned in a previous review, quitting is unacceptable. I just did what an experienced ultrarunner would do and kept on moving forward. Besides, I was for sure not going to lose my sub-24 hour finish (less than 24 hrs.= a belt buckle, over 24= a cheezy plaque)!!! Furthermore, my wall would look more 'kick ass' if I earned four buckles instead of 3 and a plaque. Yes, I want the 'Slam' award, but if I can I'm going to have 100 mile personal records and four buckles at the end of the summer!

I just have to tell you more about those hills! They can be brutal. They're rolling hills that just keep on going. As in Western States 100, I had to be careful not to get sucked into those hills. However, I eventually ignored that laid back attitude and said, "F-it! Let's Rock and Roll!" and ran as much as I could, as fast as I could! I was not about to have a Western States repeat (I was over-conservative up to mile 62 because I was scared of burning up my quads on the downhills). I did not want to lose time because I refused to push my limits. I was determined to see what I was made of. I guess it all worked out just fine. I did finish in under 24 hours, 22:52 to be exact!

The runners at VT were incredible. They would just fly up those hills as if they were deer. I could just power walk and wait for my turn to show my skills. And my skills came through. I would haul ass downhill and on the flats! This is were us 'pancake city' inhabitants catch these 'deer,' only to get passed again on the next challenging hill!!! Overall, these runners were fast! I remember seeing large groups of runners fighting to run under 24 even as far as 80 miles into the race! In a 100 miler, the wall is usually between 65-85 miles. These runners didn't seem to hit a wall. They just kept focused and kept moving. It was awesome to run with them. It was inspirational. I was like, "Damn, they're fast!" At times, I know we had to be running sub-8 minute mile paces! We have to do this because the hills are almost impossible to run and we lose too much time there.

I myself ran the first 50 miles (easier, I think) in just under 10 hours only to slow down close to 3 hours the second half. It was great nonetheless. I ran 5 hours, 11 minutes faster than Western States 100! And, Western States was just 20 days prior to VT 100!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh, I almost forgot. The start was at 4 am (still nighttime) and the race management included a fireworks show that got us pumped up for the journey ahead. It was spectacular.

What do I do to recover for the next 100 miler? Well, since this is the 1st time I attempt any tough races this close together I am sort of experimenting with various practices. I'm still a strong believer in the RICE (rest,ice,compression, elevation) principle. I also take lots of ibuprofen to reduce the swelling in my feet and numb some of the pain elsewhere. Whole food multivitamin/multimineral supplements are also included. I even take and extra dosage of antioxidants to neutralize the free radical buildup and keep my immune system healthy. I dry my blisters and soothe my feet by soaking them in an epsom salt/water solution. I also stretch daily to try to keep from being too stiff. I also wear flip flops as much as possible. This allows my feet to expand and relax. It's also an easy way to constantly monitor the swelling in my feet. So far, I've only been running 4-7 miles daily between races but only after taking at least 7 days completely off. I tend to eat a lot the week after a race. And, most importantly, I have a great time celebrating my finishes by drinking beer w/my other running buddies!!! I never let these races get in the way of living life.

You can learn more about ultrarunning by visiting the "ultrarunner's online site" at www.run100s.com. Here, you can learn more about all the 100 milers in N. America and other incredible races. You can even find my name in the "Slammers '03" link. I hope you enjoyed my reviews. Take care and keep running.

"Only those who go too far know how far they can go."

---T.S. Elliot---

LEADVILLE 100 Miler- Aug 16-17th, 2003

Hi everyone! I am excited to say that I was able to finish the Leadville Trail 100!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It was brutal in its own way!!

This altitude thing really kicks our butt. I huffed and puffed the 1st 30 miles or so. My heart must have been racing faster that the lead runner! I have to admit this was the 1st time a DNF thought (because of the strict cut offs at aid stations) ever crossed my mind. Thank God I was able to control my breathing in the early 30s. I know you are probably saying, "Slow your ass down. Walk. Control that heart rate!" But trust me. I wasn't moving much. We must have looked like those end-of-the-pack marathon runners! Although the first 13.5 miles (May Queen is the 1st aid station at 13.5m) were downhill(somewhat), I was having a hard time breathing that early in the race!!! The next 5 miles or so were our first climbs. Those were a BITCH!!! This is where Pierre and I looked at each other and said, "Buddy, we're getting our ass kicked!" I have to say it must have been the altitude that got to us. I mean, we've climbed steeper mountains at WS100! Who knows, maybe we should have camped out on top of one of those 14,000' mountains that entire week! I take that back. It's too damn cold up there!

From the Fish Hatchery aid station (mile 23.5) through mile 30, it is relatively flat. We should have just flown through this section (this is where Roger Boak passed us). However, again our breathing was just out of whack. We were forced to run from tree to tree, light pole to light pole, shrub to shrub!!! I bet we had those confused, tired, and scared looks on our faces. Halfmoon Campground aid station is at the 30.5 mile mark. The next 7 miles were our second climbs (not as brutal as the first, but still quite long). By now, our breathing had managed to control itself. After these 7 miles, we ran hard downhill for over 2 miles to try to make up all the time we had lost on those uphills.

The old town of Twin Lakes is the next aid station at mile 39.5. There was a lot of Hoopla here. I bet it was because we were about to climb Hope Pass (the highest point at 12,600')!!!

Hope Pass? It deserves its own paragraph. This was a BMF... a mother of all climbs! I don't even know how long it took us to get to the Hope Pass aid station (located at 12,000')! I just know it was brutal. There were two things I thought were cool about this aid station. One was the fact that you get that, "I'm on top of the world" feeling. The 2nd are the many llamas!!! They act as the burros for this aid station hauling all the supplies up this trail. Inside the dome tent there was a man on a laptop checking the runners' progress. There was a Doc on hand with sleeping bags (it was raining and the temp must've been in the 20s), oxygen tanks/masks, and hot foods. I went ahead and took in some oxygen for about 1 minute after finding out it was free (meaning you won't get a DQ if you take it). I didn't know if it would help any, but at this point we were giving everything a try. Plus, someone said it would send oxygen to my tired legs as if I was back at sea level. We aren't through climbing, yet! Hope Pass sits at 12,600'. We still had to climb some switchbacks for another 3/4 of a mile or so. God, this was tiring. I remember thinking, "Imagine climbing Mt. Everest?" More power to those guys for they climb twice as high as I do! The backside of Hope Pass is were we again begun pounding some distance. We had lost so much time we were desperate to get to our pacers at mile 50. By now, we had been passed by many of the front runners and other runners we knew. Miles 47.8-50 are on a slight gravel road uphill. It sucks here, too. It seems forever to get to that turnaround.

When we finally got there I told my impatient, eager-beaver pacer, Carlos to slow his roll! I looked at him and said, "I'm not f-ing around. This course and altitude are kicking our ass! We're gonna have to take it easy." Going back over Hope Pass was steeper, yet shorter than the outbound side. At times, Carlos had to push me up those steep rocks! That was cool. I was just having a hard time climbing. Who knows, maybe the 'slam' had gotten to me, maybe it was the altitude, or maybe it was just my weak-ass legs!!! At the top of Hope Pass Carlos and I took a memorable picture. Then we began pounding some more miles downhill. It is here where us 'pancake city' guys make up our time. We passed a lot of people that must've been a few miles ahead of us! We were demonstrating 'relentless forward motion.' We were definitely moving with a purpose at this point. Plus, it was getting dark and we had to make it to our drop bags at mile 60.5. This is where we would pick up our lights. Well, when we got to this aid station (Twin Lakes inbound) I hurled again. Don't worry. Nowadays, I experience it quite often at these ultras.

From Twin Lakes to Halfmoon Campground aid station, I pushed as fast as I could up those hills. By now, my legs were responding very well. My quads felt fresh, as they hadn't in this course earlier in the day. I was determined to pass as many runners as I could. I wanted to ride this wave as long as I could.

From Halfmoon Campground to the Fish Hatchery aid station (inbound mile 76.5), it is again flat and easier. If you remember, this is where Pierre and I were forced to run from light pole to light pole because our breathing was out of whack. By now though, I was doing a whole lot better. I was tired, but glad that I was still in the race and that I was suffering less than others.

From Fish Hatchery to May Queen (inbound mile 86.5), it's a bitch once again! We climb these false summits (6, I think) up under these high line power lines. Nevertheless, we kept digging. Carlos was impressed with my uphill climbing. He said I was back from the dead! I remember saying, "Let's Rock and Roll!" whenever I felt great. He would tell me, "C'mon Juan, eye of the tiger!" whenever he felt I needed to push more. It was touching to know that we were moving strong while others were just moving. However, as most ultrarunners do, I would always say things like, "Great job, guys! We're almost there!" as I passed other runners.

We finally arrived at the May Queen aid station. From here, it is only 13.5 miles to the finish line!!! I remember Carlos saying, "C'mon Juan. It's like a half marathon. Let's run as fast as we can." I remember agreeing only to find out a few minutes later that my body was not in sync w/my thoughts!

This is where I finally began to bonk!!

I could no longer push as I could before. Plus, we were again on a slight uphill. We ran/walked w/out letting anyone catch us and passed those we could. It was daylight now and everyone looked beat! I was in what I call 'survival mode.' This section is mentally tough because 8-9 out of the 13.5 miles to the finish line are run around a lake. It feels like you're never going to get to the other side! Once out of the lake single track, it is easier. Yeah, right! The course hits a long gravel road with rolling hills. It was here that Carlos and I again began running from tree to tree, ribbon to ribbon!

Finally, after lots of shuffling we made it out of a second (and more brutal) gravel road called The Boulevard! There was a man at the asphalt road banging a gong (?). He had been at various points along the course chanting and banging. He was motivational. We thanked him for the uplifts and proceeded to the main road that leads to the finish line (1mile to go). Here, again my plans went out the window. I had originally planned to fly through this last mile on rolling street hills to the finish. It didn't happen. It couldn't happen! I just didn't have much energy left. Carlos was getting impatient once again. He took me all the way until the last 300 feet. This is where I finally just kicked it in and ran that uphill to the finish line. I passed a couple of guys who were beat up in this last mile. I'm sure I passed at least 150 the second half!!!

Leadville Trail 100 was a breath-taking course...any way you define it! It took a lot of persistence and determination for all those runners to get to the finish line. Thank God I was one of them. I think I was the 100th out of over 600 that started. I happened to be the 109th finisher in a time of 28 hrs. 26 minutes.

WASATCH FRONT 100 - September 6-7th, 2003

Once and for all I will try to answer, "What is the WF 100?" and what exactly happened that 'long and nervous' weekend. I will attempt to remember all the details that most of you have been asking about this past month. Maybe then will I have found out the real significance of this incredible race. Up until now, I have procrastinated in writing this report not only because I am a slacker, but because I didn't really remember much...period! So sit back and enjoy.

The WF is named after the Wasatch Mountains, which are part of the Rocky Mountains. The course starts in Kaysville, Utah and ends in Homestead, Utah. And as its founders have said, it is a 'primitive and isolated nature' trail. It is not groomed like other courses, but natural...with plants, limbs, and other wild greenery cutting into it. This accounts for some of its beauty. However, don't be fooled by its looks for it ranks among the toughest 100-mile courses in the U.S. If you just didn't get enough of those canyon climbs at Western States, enjoyed that one long climb at Vermont (mile 80s/5 miles, I think), uneven rocky mountain running, Sugarloaf/Hope Pass at Leadville, then you're gonna love Wasatch. BUT, it's still gonna seem like 'forever climbing' and might even kick your ass!!! There's a reason veteran ultrarunners like Suzi Cope call it the "Big Boy" and this year's T read, "100 Miles of Heaven and Hell!"

A few of us had a lot on the line at this year's WF100. My fellow Texans including Dennis Thompson and Letha Cruthirds were also on their last leg of our "Grand Slam of Ultrarunning." We had sacrificed so much time, money, energy and loved ones to be here. I remember picking up Carlos Ibarra (Houston running buddy/WF entrant) at the Salt Lake City airport and telling him I had been so damn nervous that week. I was glad to see him, his wife Lisa and Duval Ruiz (his pacer). They felt like home-away-from-home since I hadn't been in Houston in 4 weeks now (drove to WF from Leadville)!

The "shakes" continued. I couldn't sleep the night before. I just layed there in bed for over an hour and a half before I fell asleep. I just kept thinking about the 'what ifs.' Before the start, I think I threw up? I remember telling Sammy Voltagio and Doug (HCTR) that I was f-ing nervous! Even Letha felt my body shake as she gave me a 'Good luck, you'll be alright power hug!' It was do or die day. This race had to be finished if I was to become a 'slammer.'

POW! The race started at 5 a.m. We were headed on our 10 mile climb, which included 5,000' in the first 5 miles! It was nighttime and I could see 'running' lights above and below me on the trail. It was a cool sight that reminded me of those Boy Scout night hikes when I was a kid!

Francis Peak (mile 18.76) aid station was when Carlos and I first saw our friends from the North Texas Trail Runners (NTTR). Thorbjorn was on the two-way radio/taking pictures and Julie and Jay were crewing. They did a great job at 'kicking us out' of that aid station pretty fast! They got our drop bags, fed us, and cheered us on.

I was feeling great running down into Big Mountain (mile 39.3) aid station. Duval even caught me on film! I weighed in and took time to look at how filthy I looked!!! Lisa and Julie fed me and once again cheered me on. Carlos caught up and we began ascending the next hill together.

Carlos and I soon ran into some difficulties out on those climbs. He accidentally left one of his two water bottles behind! I never even picked up a second one! Two stupid mistakes! We soon tapped out of h2o and were desperately trying to get to the next aid station that was 8 miles away from Big Mountain! Thank God this runner gave me a sip (ultrarunners are like that) to get me to the next aid station (Alexander Ridge, mile 47.44). I ended up hauling ass down this mountain and got there just in time for some much-needed fluids. The wonderful volunteers gave me a full 20-oz. bottle to go.

My belly felt full and soon I was puking my guts out next to this giant boulder (it happens often)! I decided to relax there for a moment. I had been running great up until now that there was no need to rush. Carlos and the rest of the runners I had passed on those downhills soon caught up to me. They were asking me if I was ok. I just told them it looked worse than what it felt and that this happened often! Carlos got me going again, but only for a short time. I noticed this shady area that turned into our next trail and decided it was time to chill out and take a break! I just laid there as though I had no worries or anywhere to go! Runners were really puzzled then, for I had just flown by them earlier. They probably even thought it was over for me. Catra Corbett-McNeely and the infamous Hans-Dieter Weisshaar passed me here, too.

I soon got myself together and off I went to catch those folks again. I had rested for over 20 minutes and was energetic/focused once more. I remember some guys asking, "Weren't you that guy on the ground back there?" "Yeah, that was me alright. I had to just say F-it and take a nap/rest a while!" I replied. One said, "Shit, maybe we need to do what he just did!" I soon caught up to Hans and Carlos, too. Carlos and I arrived at Lambs Canyon (mile 53.13) exhausted. We were again taken care of by Julie, Jay, and now Sarah Brown. Lisa and Duval were also there to assist. Also here was Mark Dick, who had to DNF due to an injured foot. Carlos picked up our buddy Duval (an accomplished 'fast runner' from our neighborhood) as his pacer. I was fortunate to have Sarah (who had planned to pace Mark and who had paced Letha at Western States) offer her pacing services!

Off we go into the soon-to-be-dark wilderness. Carlos/Duval and Catra/pacer left a few minutes before us. Hans was in his motor home 'aid station.' Sarah and I began what would be a few miles of climbing on asphalt before again continuing our climb in the trails. One long downhill and another long uphill and we reach the Upper Big Water aid station (mile 61.7). We had run in w/Catra, Carlos and a few others we found in the last mile. We shared some cool ultra stories in this section. Everyone still looked strong even though we had been 'climbing' for nearly 18 hours! We all geared up for the cold night. Sarah was desperately looking for Julie, for her thick jacket to wear (Sarah and the cold don't mix too well).

We finally reach the Brighton Ski Lodge aid station (mile 75.6) only after leaving 7,000' and climbing to 9,500', back down to about 8,700', lots of in-between uphills, and 14 miles later!!! I don't remember much of this section. It's 3:45 a.m., have been on this hilly course for nearly 24 hours, and awake for over 26.5 hours w/little sleep the night before! I just remember that long ass asphalt road heading into Brighton. This aid station is bad ass! The lodge has a 'real' toilet! Disposable toothbrushes were handed out. They were even serving yummy hash browns! I must've spent too much time freshening up in the RR, for Sarah had sent Thorbjorn to kick me out! Sarah and I took a cool picture, cheek to cheek! Lisa was here waiting for Carlos who we saw weighing in as we were walking out. And off we went to Catherine's Pass (the highest point at 10,480').

Catherine's Pass was very exciting. We were climbing into lightning!
Lightning was soon followed by a full-blown storm with strong and cold winds, something quite common at these high altitudes! We even got some hail! This only made matters a little tougher on this rocky section. I convinced Sarah to run the entire downhill section in an effort to prevent getting zapped!!! Ant Knolls aid station (mile 80.3) was at the bottom and we arrived there just a little soaked. Once inside, IT POURED DOWN RAIN!!! I thought the tarp was going to collapse! It must've sucked for those up at Catherine's Pass! Not-wanting-to-get-cold/stiff-Sarah tried to convince me to run in the downpour! I convinced her to sit out the rain for 10 minutes to see if it passed through. We were all lucky! Mother Nature gave us a break and soon we're off into some more climbing. The fresh mud got us in 4x4 mode!

Don't believe the Wasatch Front 100 profile when it comes to the section leading to Pot Bottom (mile 93)! It is a huge lie! The profile leads one to believe that there are only about three or four climbs leaving the Pole Line Pass aid station. However, my legs witnessed more like eight climbs! They are 'ghost' climbs on the profile. And they aren't easy either! Just like the first 10 miles, they'll remind you that you are at Wasatch and not at a cake walk, "pancake course" like the ones found back in Houston!!!

Once at Pot Bottom, I was beginning to smell the barn! The finish line was still 7 miles away, but it didn't seem long anymore. However, it was quite hot now for the sun was beating down on us. Sarah and I rid ourselves of any extra gear. I picked up a Montrail hat from a runner who had accidentally left it behind a few minutes earlier. Soon, we were off to our 2-mile climb. This would be our last long climb!!!
On our descent, Sarah smiled at me. She said something like, "Well, you're about to become a Grand Slammer. How do you feel?" I smiled back and said, "It feels sweet. Thank you for being here for me." I remember wanting to fly all the way to the bottom (just like I did at Mt. Elbert, 14,433' in CO two weeks prior).

Sarah's legs were finally tired. Mine were, too but I didn't feel much pain at that moment. I was on a gigantic high! We ran into Julie about 1.5 miles before the finish. She was running backwards in the course trying to locate Letha. It seems Letha's pacer (Jay) had a prior foot injury, thus was "dropped!" We were told she had been running alone for sometime and was hurting. Thorbjorn was cheering for us in the single track, too. He had paced Letha Saturday evening. The last mile to the finish line is run on asphalt. Sarah was really trying to keep up then! I had tunnel vision and a big smile on my face, for the barn was in my face! I slowed down 150' before the finish and waited for my pacer. I wanted her to have the spotlight, too. She had kept me from "lollygaging" whenever she could! We crossed the finish line banner together in a time of 32:05 hours. It was awesome! Out NTTR and Houston buddies were there to cheer us in. Soon came, "Congratulations, Grand Slammer!"
Then came the pain, lots of it! Ouch!

In conclusion, the Wasatch Front 100 was a significant race. Its completion earned me not just another belt buckle, but one that is very difficult to obtain! It also earned me a beautiful cherry wood plaque depicting the race profile.
Furthermore, I received the coveted Grand Slam of Ultrarunning Award! It is an expertly crafted American bald eagle head that sits on a base depicting my accomplishments. Just over 30 ultrarunners began the 'slam.' And only 16 completed the four 100 milers in under 11 weeks! I finished in a not-so-important 8th place(combined time of 111:27 hrs.).

However, although beautiful and unique, awards and status were not the most important things I earned/learned that day. I learned so much about myself. I learned that my quads handle downhills better than most; to stick to easily digestible foods; how to prevent most foot blisters; quick recovery techniques; and that I love mountain running. My running ultra friends are great people too, for their friendship proved to be sincere. Running long distance (melodramatic as it may seem) is like living life itself. You'll hit highs and lows, but if you are persistent and determined you will make it through with never having to give up. And as I said before, ultrarunners are a big inspiration, especially the ones twice my age! They've shown me that one doesn't necessarily have to grow old, just grow up! They have fitness I expect/hope to have when I am their age. Now was that enough significance or what?