April and I on Friday pre-race meeting
Race morning nervousness
A palpable sense of anxiousness hung over the crowd of runners gathered to start Western States on Saturday morning. Like many others I was well over the hype and just ready to get the race started. It's only running right? As the gun went off hordes of flash photographs illuminated us on our way and reduced visibility to a few feet: a frentic mass of swinging arms and legs on ourr way up Emigrant Pass. We hit snow after a few miles and caught the sunrise over a foggy Squaw Valley shortly thereafter. The snow wasn't all that bad but the course reroute was fairly slow going. There were clearly people who did not often run on snow and I found myself walking some of the downhills when it was hard to pass. The parts of the trail that were not snowed over were pretty much creeks and wet feet were the name of the game for the first 20 miles or so.
The starting gun goes off
On the exposed climb up to Robinson Flat it was clear that altitude would be an issue for the first part of the day. We hit a little more snow around this section, but it wasn't bad at all. I got a big boost from seeing my family and my niece gave a nice cool water bottle that had been sitting in the snow. The initial descent from Robinson Flat was on beautifully constructed switchbacks but gave way to endless mindless dirt road. This stretch down to Dusty Corners was pretty tough mentally. It was all flats and downhills on roads on not much fun at all. This was my first taste of the low points that would come and go throughout the race.
I got a big boost from seeing friends at Dusty Corners and commented on the lingering premonition of incipient blisters issues that would need to be addressed soon. Thereafter we turned onto some brilliant singletrack and easily some of the nicest trail on the course. At Millers Defeat it was time for the first of three foot tapings. During the time I got my feet worked on (by Ellen? Thanks!) a guy came in with a broken arm. When asked when it happened he replied "About 4 miles ago". Rats, that sort of random fall can happen to anyone anytime.
Soon I had arrived at Last Chance and the start of the canyons. As I had done way too much reading of old race reports about Western States I knew to be rightly intimidated by the canyons and I was quite eager to get them out of the way. The jog down into the first canyon was fairly steep, and I noticed more than a few people walking it. The cool breeze felt nice and I managed to dodge most of the poison oak alongside the trail. As soon as I crossed over the creek and began the climb up to Devils Thumb the heat hit me like a brick wall. I looked up and the scene was like the MC Escher painting with all the stairs going every which way. I saw half a dozen people trudging in all different directions almost directly overhead. The heat was horrendous, and I could barely move fast enough to keep ahead of the mosquitoes. They were buzzing around me like turkey vultures above a deer limping away from a car collision. About 2/3 of the way up there was a guy puking in the middle of the trail and I firmly resolved to slow down lest that happen to me as well. This was some heart of darkness business, but despite my laborious efforts things could get way worse.
Steeply constructed switchbacks on the way up Devils Thumb
My awesome CREW of April J, Jim, and Katie learn what it stands for: Cranky Runner Eternal Waiting
I ran smoothly down into El Dorado canyon and the climb back up was slightly less steep, but by the time I got to Michigan Bluff I needed some more attention on my feet. Tonya helped me out immensely, meanwhile I was simply a cranky pants. Arrggghhh, I felt so bad being in a low energy state while a volunteer was helping me out so much and being so friendly about it, but there wasn't anything I could do at the moment to get out of my funk. My worries about running out of daylight were well founded, as by the time I ran into my family again at Bath Rd it was getting dark. April J. and Jim helped me on my down to Foresthill where I would pick up my April for the last 38 miles. I think I must have felt guilty about being so down at Michigan Bluff AS that I managed to put on a smiley face for friends and family at Foresthill. Strategic applications of Vaseline also brightened my outlook as well.
It was great to finally have my pacer on board, but my energy level was flagging big time as we headed down from Foresthill. Other teams were trading stories like they hadn't seen each other in years and all I could manage were monosyllabilic responses to April's eager conversationalizing. My energy level flagged throughout the first part of the night so much that I was reduced to walking a significant portion of the next 10 miles, sometimes for miles at a time.
Foresthill (mile 62): Still feeling pretty well.
Aprils Report: After a long and uneventful wait Craig showed up at Foresthill slightly late and in the dark escorted by Jim and April J. I was ecstatic! We took our time at the AS and Craig even flirted with all the volunteers, he was in a great mood and they commented that it didnt seem like he had just run 62 miles. One of the volunteers however was aghast when he picked up a a popsicle stick off the ground, asked for the Vaseline and told her to her to look away. With all the important parts regreased and goodnights said to family our friends sent us off into the night at the bottom of the hill. It was now just us! We we’re off, but not for long. We took the opportunity to pee as soon as we got off concrete and three minutes down the trail I realized I left my flashlight back on the ground. So back up the trail and around the oncoming runners and pacers I scampered back to find my light. Once back with Craig I decided to adjust my ponytail holder and whack it snapped apart. Fashion crisis! In any other circumstance I would have whined to him about my tough luck but instead I stepped out of my norm and put all my focus on what I needed to do for myself to take care of him. He definitely didn’t need to be worrying about my hair.
He can be a pretty quiet guy so when he was just giving me yes, no, and the occasionally grunts I figured he was all business and trying to conserve energy. OK I can help him like that, and anyways he seemed to have his salts and hydration well dialed. But when we got to Cal 1 AS Craig wanted to sit down, when he started staring at the guy with the IV and a blanket I didn’t get too worried, but then he asked for his own blanket. I got him one, thought “Oh $#%# here we go!” even though he claimed he only needed 5 minutes. I was dying inside. I wasn’t sure what he needed, but he has always been so levelheaded I decided to just watch him and do what he asked. I had all these scenarios running through my head but 4 minutes and 55 seconds later he popped his eyes open, wanted food, and off we went. I was so relieved.
That nap and the multiple consecutive miles of pure walking that came before and after it was the lowest low he had for the rest of the race. 77 miles into the race on the descent to the American River I said to him “Look out at the reflection of the moon on the river it’s so nice!” Craig kept running and said “April thank you so much for doing this with me I love you!” Then he stopped and turned to face me. Hoping that I knew what was coming next I said, “Hold on get off the trail.” Two runners went by and I acted like I wasn't expecting anything and said, “Yes Craig?” That’s when he asked me if we could spend the rest of our lives together! Of course I said yes! I did a little happy dance and then kept running. About 1 minute later I said, “Did you really just ask me to marry you?” He said, “Yep!” I said, “Can I scream?” He said, “Not yet, wait 23 miles.” And off we went down to the river.
Crossing the American river at Rucky Chucky AS was totally surreal. I wanted to announce to everyone that we’d just gotten engaged, but there were so many people, so many lights, a glow stick trail, huge boats, pumping music and people with way more energy (and better feet) than Craig! Plus it was drop bag time. I got Craig settled down in a chair and went in search of food. When I came back he had a blanket and was being entertained by a girl projectile vomiting 2 feet from his feet. I tried to convince him to move but he didn’t want to stand up. 5 minutes later we found someone to work on the blisters on the bottom of his feet, a major issue that would plague him for the latter part of the race. Despite this we fell into a good rhythm for the rest of the night. I'd try to keep a good pace 10 yards up from Craig, we'd run when we could, take a walk break when he needed, and try to get him to eat at the AS, which he didn't seem to want to do. On the other hand he wasn't puking either so I must be doing an OK job.
I’ve never felt so connected to someone before. Maybe it was because I saw him put 6 months of hard work in training for this race and knew how much it meant to him. Maybe it was because he proposed so early on in my pacing duty and there really only one way to properly close the engagement story which I will be endlessly recounting from now on. Maybe it was my responsibility to him and helping him achieve his goals for the race that brought out my A-game. I couldn't imagine what he was going through but for me it was an amazing experience and he was 60 miles deeper into the day!
Back to Craig's report: My energy level picked up significantly as the sun dawned again on the trail and I was starkly reminded of why I enjoy hiking and running so much. Dawn and dusk are the nicest times of the day to be out and this sunrise was no exception. April kept up a good even pace 10 yards ahead of me as we rolled into Brown's Bar. It turns out this AS isn't a sandbar along the river but is aptly named nonetheless. We climbed up through a beautiful oak savannna on the way towards hwy 49. I was suffering on the descents but kept moving at an acceptable rate. The final climb up Robie point came and we were joined by friends on the way into Placer stadium. Thanks for coming out y'all it helped soooo much! I rounded the track and finally finished. Whew, that was a tough one! I had thought about and trained for this moment for 6 months. I was soooo happy to finish. Once I stopped I realized that my feet and knees were really bothering me. In the subsequent day my feet swelled up so much that they could barely fits in my crocs. I am a bit disillusioned with my feet. In 370 miles of ultras in the last 2 years (9x50 km + 2x50 m) I had a total of 1 and only one blister. At WS I had 7, 5 of which I had addressed by the foot people. The blisters on the bottom of my feet made it hard to walk and run during and after the run, and were never really addressed properly during the race. I'm not quite sure why they blew up so bad, but it would be nice to do a race at this distance properly, I'm just not anxious for that to happen anytime soon though.
So nice to be finished (photo by Jim)
So nice to have my shoes off
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