How did I get here? I glance at my watch, 33:45:12. It's 2:45pm. I have 1 hour and 15 minutes to cover 1.2 miles and I WILL finish this run. So tired, so thirsty, so....cooked. The helpful volunteers at Spooner Lake trailhead said I only needed one bottle of water, I should've insisted on two. So tired, I want to sleep, that log in the shade looks really comfortable right now. My shoes feel painted on, the blisters on the back of my feet screaming with every step. I look at my watch again: 2:48pm, and I've only gone 20 steps! I tear my eyes away from the shimmering oasis that is Spooner Lake and concentrate on the trail. I put one tender foot in front of the other and go in to "Relentless Forward Motion" mode. And then I see the hill. I need to rest, to close my eyes and even though every fibre of my being is telling me to keep going, I replay the last 33 hours in my head and ask again: How did I get here?
It officially started at Mike and Melissa's Fun run last December when the lottery draw for Western States was finished. None of us, Gilles Barbeau, John Machray, Karl Jensen and I had gotten in. The Repta brothers, Neil Ambrose, Randy Rankin and Matt Sessions would be the BC contingent this time around. After the disappointment had passed, Karl mentioned Tahoe Rim as a race to do and after accessing Zombie Runners' webpage, we saw a spectacular course with a very favourable cut-off of 35 hours. The seed had been planted, and it was technically $25 cheaper than Western so I figured why not?
Eight months later and I'm toeing the start line at 4:57am with Gilles, John, Glenn Pace, Chad Hyson and Andy Nicol and roughly ninety other recently released individuals from the insane asylum. (Karl was injured during training) All accomplished ultra runners who've completed numerous 100 milers...and me, the rookie. I breathe in the crisp morning air, pose for one last starting photo, try to ignore the fact that I lost the nail on my 3rd toe on my left foot 4 hours earlier, and say a prayer to Esmeralda Villallobos, the patron saint of lost causes... and we're off!
It's still pretty dark so I'm content to just jog at my own pace and note the terrain is a little sandy in some sections and bare in others. I lose sight of the CFA's early on, but I remind myself that I have to run my own race. I stop off to the side of the trail to TCB, and emerge back on the trail a little lighter and fall in behind a group of back of the packers. I listen to their conversation and allow myself the luxury of checking out the trail as dawn finally breaks and I can see the trail more clearly. At four miles there happens to be an outhouse, so I take full advantage. I don't lose too much time as there is a fairly steep climb ten steps from the outhouse. I share the gravel/rocky climb with another runner and we pull into Hobart (6.2 mi) at 6:32 am. I down a few mini CLIF bars and take some for the road with some pretzels. One of the keys to a successful completion would be to eat and drink often. This would be one of those rare occasions that I would do something new on race day that I didn't do during training, but considering I always cramped up during my training runs, I felt I would have to take the risk.
The weather feels cool with a slight breeze climbing the ridge to Tunnel Creek and I have to take off my shoes to dump all the grit that my gaiters could not keep out. Running along the ridge was fine, I saw John who remarked that we were doing just over 24 hour pace. In that case, I better slow down. Arrived at Tunnel Creek (11 mi) without incident at 7:48am, thought I was going to be weighed here but was informed it would be after the dreaded Red House Loop. Better grab some food and had my first Ensure of the day. As I was making my way down to Red House, the 50K and the 50M entrants had caught me and were apparently locals as they remarked in a knowing tone, "Are you ready for the Red House?" Well, if I wasn't ready the first time, I'm sure I'd have plenty of time to get to know it on the second lap. Actually it wasn't that bad, just under 90 minutes of dusty rutted single track with a nice little climb near the end. I glanced at my watch at one point, did some mental calculations and realized, "We're on a 25 hour pace!" I immediately resolved to slow down and walked up the hill as I realized that I couldn't keep up this pace without redlining in a few hours.
Tunnel Creek #2 (I would access this aid station six times but would approach it from three different directions and at various times in the day and night, so it seemed like a new aid station) and here I was going to get weighed at 17.3 miles. Funny story about my weight:
At the pre-race weigh-in, I was dressed in my jeans, street shoes, and shirt and was somewhat shocked when I tipped the scales at 196 lbs. I knew that I would be heavier for this race given my weight training and eating habits for this race. I was given a wristband with my starting weight and my weight at 3%, 5% and 7% loss (196, 191, 187, 183) So every time I was weighed I would have to be at least a pound within 196 lbs or risk being warned to drink more, to not leave the aid station until I reached my starting weight, or possibly pulled from the race. I was in a panic and I didn't really think I was that heavy. I relayed my concerns to Glenn and Andy, who suggested I should be weighed according to what I would be wearing Race day, so I shucked off the jeans and the shoes and asked for a re-weighing. 191 lbs! A five lb difference was huge in terms of racing, if I had kept my 1st weigh-in, I would've been in a deficit every time I got on the scale and forced to keep drinking and eating until I got back up to 196 lbs. Thanks again, guys!
So I was religiously drinking and eating during the race and was gratified to see I was at 192 lbs, I was told to keep doing what I was doing and I decided it was time to lose some weight so I checked in to the nearest portapottie. Next up was a nine mile out and back to Mt Rose Aid station. This was primarily single track trail amidst massive boulders and trees. I happened to be running with a woman named Kathy from Bend, OR and a guy doing the 50 miler. We were passed by a fair number of runners doing the 50k/50m race and quite a few of them had their Ipod's on even though there were quite a few signs stating that headphones were banned on the course. (Due to USATF rules, no headphones, Ipod, MP3's, cameras or other electronic devices were not allowed on the course.) I didn't bother questioning the double standard as I had people to talk to, but my MP3 would've been really great on the night section of the run! I was slowing down a little bit from the climbs and the heat, but as soon as the calories kicked in I was off and running again, especially on the descents and progressively getting faster until I could see the Mt Rose Aid station about a mile away with quite a bit of hustle and bustle at the 50 mile turnaround at 12:17pm. As soon as I made my way through the fields I saw Glenn, Gilles and John all sucking on some fruity popsicles. Well, there better be one for me. In the haste of getting a popsicle and downing two squares of PBJ, two cups of mountain dew, I forgot to get weighed. Oops. Back on the scale where I was exactly 191 lbs. No worries. I proceeded to continue stuffing my face when I heard the medical attendant say to another runner on the scale, "Take off your sunglasses, let me see your eyes." O-kay.
Grabbed my popsicle and headed out of the aid station but had to go back again, as they didn't take my number down. Thanks a lot. Took it easy for the first mile as I tried to manipulate the frozen treat and my two handhelds at the same time. Gave up as the heat was melting the popsicle faster than I could eat it. Washed my hands in the little creek and saw Catra Corbett who's currently doing the PCT but decided since she was in Lake Tahoe anyways to do the 50 mile race. Amazing. Around this time the accumulated calories had kicked in and I was moving again happy to be running. The first nine miles had taken me 2:56 to complete, but the return took me 2:29 so I was having a great time and I was particularly encouraged by the 50 milers who graciously stepped off to the side to let me run and cheered me on.
Tunnel Creek # 3 (2:56pm, 9 hours, 56 minutes) was fairly crowded with a couple of runners seeking first aid for various ailments. I was down a pound on the scale, not bad. Grabbed some food, put some ice in the cap and it is time for some walking. The temperature has risen steadily and it has sucked quite a bit of energy out of me, it took over 1:40 to cover 5 miles of uphill switchbacks. Hobart (4:34pm) came and went with me just picking up a few supplies, topping off my bottles and getting ready for the next climb to Snow Valley aid station which climbs 2000 ft in less that three miles! This was very slow and I was getting headaches and nausea from the altitude at 9,200 feet.
Snow Valley, at the 43 mile mark. I'm just over a pound and the very knowledgeable crew fix me up a Gatorade/water cocktail in one bottle and straight water in the other.
Some pretty funny signs took my mind off the elevation as I made the seven mile descent back to Spooner Lake, this last part was a pleasure to run as it started to get cool and I finished this section in under ninety minutes. I felt so good that I bypassed the aid station at Spooner Lake. I rounded the corner and clocked my first fifty mile lap at 7:07pm or 14 hours and 18 minutes! I settled into the aid station and had my mini crew of Lucinda and Linda get me some cold pizza and some cold Starbuck doubleshot coffee in a can. Mmmmmm. I removed my filthy and smelly socks, washed my feet and changed into some fresh socks, but neglected to get my feet looked at. The girls told me that they were very impressed that I had come in so soon and the guys had left an hour earlier. Lucinda and Linda took some of my Ensure to put into my drop bag at Mt Rose and wished me luck. I had a cup of soup, put my headlamp on and with the knowledge that I had 21 hours to finish, started Round 2!
The next 25 miles were the most painful, frustrating, and screwed up miles I have ever run. Actually, run is not quite how I would describe my pace. Sleep-induced-dead-man-walking-shuffle is a much more accurate term. Miles 51-53 went by easily enough, the sun was setting, it was getting cooler, but I could feel the back of my left heel develop a hot spot which moved to a blister and then to an open wound at Mile 54. I hobbled the best I could to Hobart (9:53pm) and the aid station confirmed that the blister had indeed popped. A bandaid and some duct tape and I was good to go. Unfortunately it took a little time for the legs to get moving as I didn't really eat much at Hobart, concentrating too much on the blister and it would be almost two hours before I hit Tunnel Creek at roughly the 100K mark. Back on the scale and suprisingly I'm only down a pound, but as the temperature lowered, I wasnt sweating or drinking as much. Did the mental checklist: body fine, feet tender, but fine, skin lubed, all systems go!
Time to do the Red House Loop in the dark! (Shudder) It was a very lonely time for that loop, I was breathing in a lot of dust, I had to keep checking the trail as the rutted sections were just waiting for me to turn my ankles. It was okay, my pace had slowed to over 22 mpm for miles 62-64.Then I hit the stream crossing. Okay, I'm awake now. Unfortunately this alert feeling didnt last very long and now in addition to my zombie like pace, I could feel new blisters start to form in the back of my right foot. Around this time (65 miles) Kathy and her pacer passed me. I now know the importance of a pacer, able to think for you when you're going on autopilot. Soon we (I caught up to them in our leapfrog style) hit the Red House where we had to find a marker in order to prove to the aid crew at Tunnel Creek that we really did go to Red House and not just stopped at the base of the hill and caught a few winks before continuing back on the trail. This particular marker was red, so with a big red dot on my bib, continued the run up the steep climb, but my energy level was fading. I did very little (okay, no) night running training for this race and it was biting me on my fat ass big time. The last mile was the toughest as I alternated shuffling up the hill and taking little breaks even though I was only 6 minutes from the aid station, I still felt the need to lie down on a nice flat rock and rest my weary head.
Reluctantly I trudged my way back to Tunnel Creek and decided to change shoes at 68 miles. Big mistake. No sooner did I take off my shoes did I notice the thumb sized blister on the inside of my right foot. It was very puffy and almost bursting with pus and would make it next to impossible to put on my shoes. I sat down in a chair and asked for assistance. Unfortunately the podiatrist was nowhere to be found, so I sat there trying to contemplate my next move and thankfully a surgeon was at the aidstation. I don't know why he was there but I was glad for the help, he took one look at my foot and in an ominous tone told a woman, "Get my bag." He takes out a scalpel and I've seen Hostel so I know what's coming next. Two slashes later, one painfilled scream into the night, some fresh moleskin, shoes back on the feet and I'm back on the trail, 30 minutes later. But I still haven't learned my lesson from Hobart and I take very little nutrition at the aid station or with me for the run and I forget to use the portapottie.
I'm moving very slowly for the nine mile section, my pace has gone down to a crawl. The need for sleep is overpowering, the only thing keeping me awake is that with every step, I feel the torn blisters sending pain shooting from the soles of my feet firing neurons in my frontal lobe. Finally I realize I need to sit down and rest, turn off my headlamp and shut my eyes......
"Hey, you okay?" Whuh? One of the bike patrol sweeps had seen me and was checking up on me. I related him my lack of nutrition and he helped me out my giving me a swig on one of his GU flasks. Talk about a lifesaver. With renewed energy and much gratitude I was back on the trail. Shuffling and with great effort I start to powerhike the trail. On the way to Mt Rose, I ran into Glenn and told him about the blisters, the lack of energy and I was guess I was so pathetic that he must've thought I was going to drop at Mt Rose. I said I was hoping for a 34:59:59 finish, he told me I'd feel better when dawn arrived. Glenn, it couldn't come soon enough. Then I saw the three Stooges John, Gilles and Chad shortly afterwards. They offered their words of encouragement, but I had to move forward. The nine mile section is fairly challenging singletrack with great views and moderately runnable trail. But there is one drawback: No portapotties and me without any toilet paper meant the next 5 miles was the most, shall we say, awkward distance I had to run. All that food that I consumed in the last 16 hours had to go somewhere and I was trying to make sure it stayed out of my pants. Thank God for all that core strengthening.
Finally the sky brightened a little and like Glenn said, it was like a switch was turned on in my head. I caught a few runners on the way to Mt Rose and they were saying I was like a man possessed. It took me 3:45 to cover nine miles.(6:30am, mile 76.5, one hour before the cutoff) I checked in, got on the scale and unsurprisingly was two pounds over. Well, that was gonna change in a hurry. I grabbed my drop bag and dashed over to the portapottie...where it was occupied! "I'll just be a few minutes!" Who am I, Job? Sure, I've waited 3:45, what's a few more minute...Oh, you're done. Excellllllllllllllllent. Meanwhile, Rajeev Patel and Anil Rao who have been running full out just to make the cutoffs arrive to great fanfare. I get what I need and get out of Dodge as I have less than 10 hours before the final cutoff. It took me 11:26 to run mile 50.2 to 76.5. The race truly begins now!
I knew that I had to take advantage of the cool morning before it elevated to scorching morning so I was chugging away on the uphill stretches and made good time on the first 4 miles, but then the sun came out and I felt the heat. Oh did I ever feel the heat, my black CFA shirt was perhaps a poor fashion choice for this section. I had to sit down a couple of times while Rajeev and Anil (and his pacer), and John Taylor, from Minneapolis, MN leapfrogged me. The roles would be reversed as they also started slowing down in the heat, but on the final stretch leading up to Tunnel, they zoomed past me and there I was by my lonesome, with only mountain bikers and squirrels for company. I was having an argument with my subconscious at this point, "Can't stop. Gotta stop. Can't stop. Gotta stop. Shut up. No, you shut up." As this was my only conversation thread for the last 20 minutes, I guess it was a good thing that no one else was around.
Then the trail switched from single track to dirt road and I pulled into Tunnel Creek (mile 85.5, 9:35am) which more closely took on a MASH unit complete with National Guard reservists as they were in the process of breaking down the camp. I changed to an old white shirt and cap, refilled my bottles, took most of the food they had and headed out. I saw John make his way up the switchbacks, but now the temperature was now in the high 30's. Curiously any shade provided by the trees had a very cool feel to it. I guess the elevation helped a little but I had to move forward. Miles 86-89 were painfully slow averaging 25 minutes per mile, but as soon we hit the downhill to Hobart, it was a much faster 18 minutes per mile. On the way to Hobart, I finally caught up to Anne Watts, the woman of many sounds. Like me, she was glad there was a 35 hour cutoff, but she started to talk some ranger dude so I just continued to Hobart. John joined me and commented on my pace. To him, it seemed like so many times I was just waiting to drop and then all of a sudden, I just start running again. I told him it was the calories kicking in and the drugs, the blessed drugs (Advil Liquid gels 16 so far, Succeed Caps) that I was taking that was letting me continue. Now if only I remembered to pack a six-pack in my drop bag...
At Hobart (Mile 90.5, 11:29am), John sat down to access his nutrition bag, I grabbed PBJs and have changed to Mountain Dew and Coke as my primary liquids. Said thanks again to the ladies who taped my foot and headed up, up and away to Snow Valley. I was feeling the elevation and the heat and the flies who were very attracted to me. So much so that they bypassed the horse dung to buzz around me, great, at which point do I rank lower than horse dung? Rajeev and Anil who were used to this heat and elevation passed me on one of my recovery sessions, I was fighting the waves of nausea, the heat and the flies the high altitude was bringing. Anil said I have a little time, but I knew I had to suck it up and move past the nausea, dizziness. I attacked that ascent and arrived at Snow Valley at 1:12pm (Mile 93.3) I got on the scale and I was 191 lbs exactly. More coke, some food and words of encouragement later and only 7 miles to go with 2:48 left on the clock!
The 93rd mile was a little tough, actually all my miles after leaving an aid station were tough as there always seemed to be just one more thing that I've forgotten or needed. But I knew I had to press forward. I got passed again by the three E Indian runners as the pace was too slow, but I was hanging around not far behind. Then we saw the horses and where there were horses, there was horse dung. Warm, smelly, fly infested horse dung. I couldn't get out of there fast enough. Then the riders asked us to take their picture, I respectfully declined but Rajeev took the shot. Mile 96 was very surreal, a deer came bounding out of nowhere and stopped 12 feet away from me on the trail. It looked like Bambi's big brother and it just looked at me. I thought to myself, "Isn't he adorable?" Then I looked at my watch. 32:55!?! Get out of my way! And then the deer was gone, I filed that one away under close encounters of the furry kind.
Descending to Spooner Lake the first time was quite pleasant as it was early evening and it was reflected by my pace. Not so on the second time, because it was 2:00 pm and I swear the hear had gone up another 5 degrees to 40 C. I felt like I was moving my legs through Jello, WARM Jello. Finally I'm within sight of Anil who's actually walking with his pacer, I can't see Rajeev, but I know he's up ahead. I hear music as I round the next corner and sure enough the Spooner Lake trailhead is there and I'm there 2:35pm, mile 98.7. I make my way down the trail. Rajeev and the boys have turned the corner, I am so tired. I just need to close my eyes...
I open my eyes again. Only a minute has passed by as it's 2:46pm, but I'm ready to go again. I will not be denied. Do you hear me, Tahoe Rim? BRING IT!
I power up the next two hills, I pass a couple on the way from the parking lot with a quick excuse me, I've caught Rajeev and have overtaken the trio. They encourage me to go get it, I reply I'll run as long as I can. I go over the wooden bridge and make my way to the finish line. I can see it, and I can't get this ridiculous smile off my face. I'm laughing and I'm bounding with an energy I didn't know I still had. I see the clock read 34:09:48 and I think to myself, "OK, now you can be competitive." I think I'm in midair when I actually cross at 34:09:56.
I get a medal which also doubles as a bottle opener and a finisher's bottle of Red House Ale. Ahh, good times at the Red House. John and Linda are there to see me finish and thank God, they were there as they were my ride back.
Fast forward 30 minutes, I'm in the shower and the water goes from clear to brown in 12 seconds. I have much bigger blisters on the backs of my feet and now that the Advil is wearing off, I can feel them. John generously loans me a pair of sandals and shorts as there is no way I'm able to put on my shoes and the horrible chafing has reduced my fat ass to a swollen, festering wound ass. Hey, there's a visual you're not going to soon forget.
At least I look somewhat human again and hobble off to the awards ceremony and despite my fears, they do announce my first name first which was a welcome surprise.
I receive congratulations all around from my fellow peers as we all admire our buckels. They had the year and time engraved on the back. I say hi to Anne and John as they finished about 10 and 13 minutes after me. The last finisher, the 69th runner (it's true) finished well ahead of the cutoff at 34:38:53.
After the awards, I got some assistance from Lucinda who drained my blisters and taped my feet again. I was dropped off back to my motel by John and Linda who decided to finance the next race by hitting the slots. As for me, I laid on my bed, looked at my buckle and corrected myself on that question.
It's not, "How did I get here?"
The real question is, "When do I get to go back?"
Currently rehydrating at the Granville Island Brewing Company while I'm getting a new belt for my buckle,
Baldwin
100 mile virgin....no more!
Comments
Congratulations
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Awesome job