Sierra-at-Tahoe (mile 62.9) to Housewife Hill (mile 70).
I collected my belongings from the floor next to me, headed to the bathroom, popped in my contacts and washed up. Next back to the main aid station area where I found Tim from the Medical team to help me with my feet.
I told him about the wrinkled mess from last night (two hours ago…), and a couple of small hot spots starting developing. Fortunately, my skin was mostly dried out so he taped up the hot spots and I was ready to go. I put clean pair of socks (Injinjis) and my over-pair socks (CW-X) were mostly dry too. My shoes were still a bit damp, but definitely much better than I expected. Lena was meeting me at Housewife Hill, just seven miles ahead, so I figured I could change shoes there if I needed to complete the reboot (haha!) from Day 1 before the long climb up to Armstrong Pass.
I got a minimal amount of nutrition together for the short stretch and headed out around 7:30am. As I was heading down the hill from Sierra-at-Tahoe, I passed a few runners still just arriving to this aid station and thought about what their Day 1 must be feeling like, now almost 24 hours into the race without sleep. I was glad to be on my way and excited that I felt good for these next few miles.
I came across a runner and his pacer (can’t remember their names ????) super guys and we ran together for a mile or so. This guy had just run the Bigfoot 200 and told me that he slept 16 hours during that race, and improved his overall time by 7 hours over last year. This data point definitely made me feel good about my sleep decision and my overall plan to sleep as much as I could along the way, instead of trying to go 36 or 48 hours without sleep out of the gate.
Feeling good on Saturday AM!
I felt energized. The sun was shining, the morning brisk and the air cool. The segment was mostly a rolling downhill so I could run a nice smooth pace and made good time down to the aid station.
About a quarter mile from the station, I looked ahead and saw my crew waiting for me! Lena, Benjamin, Nina and Tbone!
Benjamin starting running towards me and I almost starting crying I was so happy to see them. When he reached me, I said – “Can you believe that I’ve been running since I saw you yesterday?” I said that as much for him as for me. I felt very happy and proud to have made it through Day 1 and felt a confidence that I was on my way to knocking out this journey.
I took some time to try out different shoes but no one them felt right, and my Altras were now mostly dry from the running and dry morning weather. Nina found me a nice breakfast of eggs and bacon from “The Guy in the Red Suit” serving as cook at the aid station. Very yummy and satisfying.
We snapped a few pictures and off I headed for the 18 miles stretch to the top of Armstrong Pass.
Housewife Hill (mile 70) to Armstrong Pass (mile 88): The long, slow climb
A few miles into this stretch (can’t remember exactly how many…), I crossing a stream. Thinking about the 5-6 hours ahead and remembering how I ran short on water last night, I took a few minutes to fill up one of my water bottles to be sure I’d have enough for the day.
Slowly, slowly, slowly plodding up the first part of the climb, I reached 8000’ about four miles in and felt pretty good about myself and the progress I’d made. The peak was 9750’, so I segmented what was ahead into 250’ elevation climb sections. I figured I’d be at the top in the next two hours.
Oops…
I should have read the course elevation profile better. Turns out that once you reach 8000’, there’s a 1000’ descent which drops you back down to 7000’ before heading back up to the 9750’ peak. The downhill miles were nice to knock off a few faster miles, but with each step I couldn’t help but think of the future cost I was incurring, knowing that I’d have to climb back up.
I remember running mostly alone alone along this stretch. With the overnight at Sierra-at-Tahoe and now well past 24 hours into the race and only ~175 runners, the field was stretching out quickly. I passed one runner that was off the trail, sitting high on a rock looking very happy and relaxed. We chatted a short bit, and I liked the idea of finding my own rock for rest somewhere along the midpoint up the climb.
I found my boulder – a huge flat boulder – and set up a picnic for myself. I had a bag of sweet potatoes and bacon that would be become my mainstay fuel for the rest of the race and found an extra packet of Tailwind in my running vest. After a quick bite, I laid on my back and looked up at the trees and watched the clouds move across the sky. A few gray clouds starting to infiltrate the blue canvas above, and all I could think was that another thunderstorm was brewing. I really, really didn’t want it to rain. I did well with it yesterday, managing my mindset and working through it, but the thought of more rain and water on the trail, especially as I was climbing worried me about a slick trail, not to mention climbing up close to 10,000’ where I’d be closer to the clouds and lightening.
I looked up on the trail from my rock, and saw my running friend Jonathan pass by with his pacer and felt a pang of jealousy that he had someone with him on this stretch. A few thoughts of loneliness crept into my mind, but all in all I knew this was just a tough slog that I’d have to do on my own, and eventually when I reached Heavenly tonight, I’d be at mile 103 and more than halfway done.
Big Meadow (appropriately named…)
After a few minutes, I motivated and headed back to the trail. Climbing higher and higher, the course took me across Big Meadow and along several huge meadows that rested between peaks all around me. Wild flowers were abound in these fields, with yellow and purple flowers everywhere. It really took me aback to think about these plateaus resting thousands and thousands of feet about where I was used to seeing fields of grass and flowers.
I stopped to snap a few pictures just to force myself to appreciate what I was seeing, with the thought that I may never in my life be back on this trail to see what I was seeing. Too many times in situations like this, I’d think – “I’ll take a picture next time” – and too often, there hasn’t yet been a next time.
I took another break along the trailside, laying back on a rock. I couldn’t sleep but at least I reset a bit. A couple of runners passed me, and one asked if I was doing okay just as I was started to doze off. I was a little perturbed that he interrupted my rest, but really, this was just me being grouchy and instead I considered should be grateful that other runners were aware enough to check in with me. We were miles and miles from anything resembling civilization so if any one of us got in trouble, the only help we could rely on was each other.
I packed up again and continued up the mountain. Another runner somewhere along this stretch passed me, and we kept climbing and climbing and climbing. Eventually we reached a peak, then short downhill, then another peak at 9300′. I asked him if he thought this was the top of the summit.
“I think there’s one more little climb to reach the top.”
Ugh.
We started downhill and he went ahead. The terrain got steep as I descended, and I loathed the idea of heading back up again to hit another peak, but the trail kept descending. My spirits picked up when I realized we had already reached the peak and now I was heading down to the next aid station in the next mile or two. I passed a couple of hikers and a runners heading back up, and that charged me more to know the aid stations was very, very close.
I found the oasis, relieved to have Armstrong Pass behind me, and feeling happy and proud with my progress. From a time standpoint, I was about 45 minutes ahead of my projected time. I expected to arrive to Armstrong around 5pm, and it felt good to know that my pace was holding, I had budgeted 8 hours for this stretch, and I knocked it out in less than seven!
As I meandered into the aid station, and a bearded volunteer, who later I’d learn was named John, asked me – “How are you feeling?”
“I’m good.”
Then he looked at me again – straight into my eyes and said – “Are you sure?”
He was right. I wasn’t necessarily bad, but I was pretty worn out after the climb up and over Armstrong.
“Roseanne is the medical person here – she’ll take care of you if you need anything.”
Roseanne came over and just sat for a moment to see how I was. She gave me a roller for my quads. Perfect timing after that climb. John got me a hamburger and Roseanne hung around just to make sure I took enough time to reset. Meanwhile, she tended to another runner that was shivering in the middle of the day because he hadn’t been eating.
As much as this was a reminder to myself to keep eating, none of the food was appetizing. I took a bite of the burger and it just didn’t agree with me. I knew I’d been good about taking in calories along the way and made myself a protein shake from a packet in my drop bag. That’s about the only food I ate at the aid station, and promised myself to keep eating along the next stretch and to do eat well tonight when I made it to Heavenly. I had a couple of bags of my magic sweet potatoes for calories, plus Tailwind and Clif bars stashed as “just-in-case.”
John and another volunteer (I can’t remember her name), helped me fill my water bladder and nutrition bottles. I was a little slow mentally getting things together, but eventually I got packed up and on my way out. Before I left, I drank another Starbucks Via packet as my afternoon coffee, and to hopefully enjoy a little late-afternoon pick-up from the caffeine.
I was happy to know that Heavenly and some sleep was only 15 miles from here – about five hours if I stayed on pace. More importantly, that the hardest part of the day was over.
Or so I thought…
Armstrong Pass (mile 88) to Heavenly (103.5): More Climbing? Really?
Climbing back out of the Armstrong Aid station was tough but my spirits were up. Before leaving the aid station, I asked about the next section of the course. “You head back up Armstrong then it’s mostly rolling down to Heavenly.”
Okay, I thought, I just go back up to where I passed the runners coming out of the station then it’s rolling for 14 miles. I could handle that.
I worked my way back up the main trail and reached what thought was the peak of the stretch, only to be sadly mistaken. Instead, I had solid 3-mile climb from there back up to 9600’. It was switchback after switchback, and it was DEMORALIZING. I saw Peggy for the first time since late in Day 1 near the creek crossing, which felt like a lifetime ago.
Another runner (John) and I hitched up a bit and slogged along together, finally reaching the crest of the climb that transitioned from one side of the mountain to the other. After about 1/4 mile of reaching the top, I found a rock and sat down to rest. I was wiped. That section was unexpected and tough, and I still had about 10 miles to go before Heavenly. I gave myself permission to take as much time as I wanted, ate some sweet potatoes and did a round of breathing exercises. That really reset my brain and body.
Once I got myself going, I told myself to just take it slow and make whatever progress I could on the downhill. By now, the sun setting across a valley to my left, and ahead of me stood a mountain with numerous spiked peaks decorating its side.
My body picked up the pace a little and the next 4-5 miles. I dropped down into a 10:00/min mile pace in a few stretches and knocked out a few sub-15:00/min miles overall. This was a welcome change in body and mind to be moving at a faster, more fluid pace. The trail now was a very nice gentle downslope and with the daylight hanging in the air, I was able to make some solid time over this stretch.
As the sun set over the mountain, I sat to rest then headed back down the trail. A few hundred feet down trail, I realized I’d left my gloves on the rock and had to backtrack. It was a good time to get my headlamp on for the last push down to Heavenly. When I pulled my headlamp from my backpack, it was already clicked on. Oh man.
John and I hiked along the next couple of miles together. He just started racing ultras a couple of years ago, and like me, hadn’t done a 100 before tackling a 200. The trail transitioned from a runnable single track to a rocky path of switchbacks. Down the mountain to the east, we could see the lights of the hotels and casinos along the lake. My headlamp light felt dim, so I sat down to change the batteries. I was very grateful to have packed extra batteries because the difference was HUGE. I could see much, much better.
On and on when trekked down the mountain and eventually we reached the Heavenly property, but still had a good three miles until the aid station. We hit a VERY steep short climb up a fire road – not more than a 1/4 mile but unexpected a killer on the legs. More switchbacks, along with more switchbacks, along with more switchbacks. I’d read about these switchbacks from a race report from a previous year, but it didn’t make them any more tolerable. They were steep and hard to run. I found myself walking on the downhills, then growing impatient and frustrated, so I tried to run the straight parts of the path just to pick up a few minutes and to prevent boredom.
Finally I reached the bottom of the mountain and the Heavenly aid station where Lena and Tbone were waiting. So good to see them, and a little silly to think that it’d been about 12 hours since I saw them at Housewife Hill that morning, and that I’d covered about 33 miles since then.
They asked me what I needed, and I realized I didn’t have much of a plan. The aid station was oddly configured. The inside area was only for sleeping. The food station was outside on a metal grate deck, and the drop bags were down a flight of stairs, as was the bathroom.
Not a having a plan really sucked. I had Lena and Tanya ready to help me with whatever I needed, and I had no idea what to tell them. I felt decently well physically, but mentally, I was spent. I couldn’t make a decision. It was nighttime – around 10pm (still about an hour ahead of my plan!) and the set up of the aid station just wasn’t what I expected and I was trying to figure out what to do. Finally, I settled on eating what I could, then just getting some sleep to figure out what to do in the morning. My feet were holding up well, and all I could think about what getting some rest to recharge.
I asked one of the volunteers to help me find a sleeping pad, and I headed back to the bathroom to clean up a little and take out my contacts. When I came back up to the sleeping quarters a few minutes later, I saw a guy with a blanket and pad. I thought it was the volunteer, so I said to him – “Thanks so much. I really appreciate it.”
He looked a little stunned, and said, “This is for me.”
Oops.
Turns out it wasn’t to volunteer but another racer. It was dark inside and I didn’t have my contacts in, so I could see much. Lena came inside and helped me get settled. I was having a pretty tough time just trying to organize my stuff and figure out what to do with everything while I slept. The medical staff was working inside the sleeping area with headlamps, which made it hard to get comfortable, plus there was ambient talking all around both inside the sleeping quarters and downstairs at the bathroom.
We finally got me settled and I found a spot with a blanket and laid down. Ahhh… Time to sleep! Except that I was WIDE AWAKE. My eyes wouldn’t close. Maybe it was too much caffeine. Maybe I was wired from the race. Whatever it was, I couldn’t get my eyes to close.
I finally told myself – “Dude, you’ve been going since 7:30 this morning, and have covered 103 miles in the last two days on two hours of sleep. You are tired. You have to be tired, so fucking GO TO SLEEP!” Within two minutes, I was asleep.
I woke up about an hour later at 11:30pm feeling very uncomfortable laying on the floor. “Oh man. No way,” I thought. I can’t be done sleeping already. No way I wanted to gear up and head out right now, so I found a second camping pad and to double up the custioning again I fell asleep. I woke up at 1:16am feeling much better, but also wondering if I’d had enough sleep to keep going. Did I really want to get up now and start Day 3 already? Then I checked my phone again and now it was 2:06am, so I must have dozed off a bit more. By now, I accepted that it was time to get going, and if I got up now, I could hit the trail by 3:00am and start the day.
I rolled off the mattress, found my gear where I left, and Day 3 began…
As we reached Loon Lake, I stopped with about 10-15 others to refill my water bottles from the lake. I didn’t really need the water, but thought it would be a good break and a good exercise to get in the habit of getting water – using my water tablets and generally staying disciplined to keep my water bottles and water bladder full. Late in the day, I’d have to learn this lesson the hard way…
A few months ago, I tried to explain to my five-year-old son what’s happening right now in Syria.
Training:
