Race Recap... Part 2

Picking up off Robinson Flat aid station (mile 29.7)...

Leaving the aid station, the rain "helped" to re-rain log my clothes, and so my fresh new dry t-shirt (from the Sky Pass Marathon... courtesy of Luke Reece), did not stay that way for long.  Although it was not great to be running through the rains, and only about one-third of the way through the race, I will diverge here to say that I was actually incredibly fortunate in some ways with the weather...

Western States is not only a punishing course because of terrain, but is also known for it's brutal weather.  Temperatures usually hover in the 90's or above, and because much of the course is without shade, the direct sunlight can push it well into the 100's, even 110's.  This is one of the great challenges of Western States.... but not as much for us.  The lower temperatures, wind, hail, rain and the overall overcast weather did provide some of their own challenges, but the respite from the sun and intense heat was a plus.  HOWEVER, this is not to say that the cold and rain was good.  From what I heard, at least 10 people had either dropped or been forced to drop due to hypothermia by the time they got to Robinson Flat.

The next aid stations at Miller's Defeat (mile 34.4) and Dusty Corners (mile 38) came and went without much of an issue.  The skies began to clear, the temperatures began to rise, but I kept my sleeves on most of the time to preserve warmth and save in case the temperatures cooled again.  Probably the most interesting piece of running through these miles was taking in some of the sights as the fog cleared.  Although you couldn't see for miles as we could have done in the earlier miles along the ridges, the sights were still nice in the forests, and as we began to approach the section known as "the Canyons".

Beginning at the "Last Chance" aid station at mile 43.8, the elevation would bounce up and down for at least the next 20 miles, although the elevation would never really let up until mile 100.  From Last Chance, the course literally descended 1200 feet, then rose another 1500 feet, before arriving at the next aid station at Devil's Thumb only 4 miles later.  It didn't help that I was feeling bloated by the time I got to Last Chance.  According to the scales, I was up to 216.5 lbs... having gained 8 pounds in approximately 13.5 miles or 3 hours.... yikes.  The excess sodium and electrolyte intake had to be cut down, or else I would continue to feel bloated.

Descending the trail towards the American River.

The drops and rises here really began to nail me.  One of the chief complaints of Western States runners is not from the uphills, but rather that their "quads are shot", which stem entirely from the downhill sections.  This is because that they are not short, gradual, or rolling downhills, but instead harsh, jaunting, and long sections of descent.  They are 50 meter sections of switchback, which mean you are constantly breaking to twist and turn downhill, without really breaking your stride.  This serves to destroy your quads.  To make matters even more fun, after finishing a descent, you quickly cross a 50-100 meter bridge, and then begin the ascent back up to the top.

Ups and Downs: the elevation profile of Last Chance to Devil's Thumb

The only "flat ground" between the hills.

The ascent up Devil's Thumb was harsh, and really smacked me back into reality after trying to cruise downhill from Last Chance.  When I got up to the top of Devil's Thumb, I was just under half way through the race, and I felt spent.  Luckily, as always, the terrific volunteers of the Western States run helped me out.  Devil's Thumb, normally known for it's roasting temperatures, has come to champion itself for freezing hell over, and therefore giving runners popsicles at the top.  I had two, and they were amazing.  They definitely helped bring me back to life. 

Devil's Thumb descended again to El Dorado Creek (52.9 miles), only to re-ascend up to Michigan Bluff (55.7 miles).  My strategy to make it through here was simple: take the downhills slow and easy, and try to charge up the uphills as best I could with hard hiking.  Also, I tried as best I could to minimize the time I spent at aid stations.  This is a strategy with a lot of people, but for me it was much more simple: grab food, and keep on moving as quickly as possible, no stopping unless there was a medical check.

The climb to Michigan Bluff on the left.

Switchbacks: one is fine, more than one is not.

The climb up to Michigan Bluff was not any more kind than the first major one up Devil's Thumb.  It was long, harsh, and lots of "fun", but eventually I began to hear the faint sounds of cheers coming from the aid station up ahead.  I also began to see that "backwoods" California can often look like backwoods anywhere:

Michigan Bluff: there are no words.

And as I came into the station, I saw a familiar face that I wasn't expecting: Erin had made the extra trip to Michigan Bluff (which required shuttling service as well) to see me and encourage me on.  It was sorely needed, and I was psyched to see her again (keep in mind, it was 6:13 PM when I came into Michigan Bluff, I hadn't seen Erin in over 14 hours).

Things I'm psyched about: 1. Seeing my wife, 2. Running the Western States 100, 3. Getting to the top of Michigan Bluff

Erin's presence gave me a huge adrenaline boost, and my weight was back down to 207.5 as I hit the weigh-in and medical check (keep in mind, this means I lost 9 lbs. in about 12 miles of running up and down hard hills).  I felt good that I could keep moving forward, but I know that the speed of my progress was slowing.  My race strategy quickly boiled down one of get to the next aid station.  I knew Erin would once again be at at the next aid station (Bath Road, mile 60.6), and be able to move with me for about a mile and half to the Foresthill aid station.

The sun was starting to go down in the sky, and I knew that night would be coming on soon enough, but after some rolling hills, I made it Bath Road:

March to the Top... somewhat: The hill kept going for another mile after this.

My Everything: Crew, pacer, emotional support.

Erin took me a full mile and a half into the Foresthill aid station (mile 62), where I got reweighed (I'm pretty sure I was down to 205 lbs. at this point... but feeling fine), and got re-energized by a huge crowd at the Foresthill school.  At this point, the Western States volunteers also offered to give me a pacer.  Due to the drop outs earlier in the race, those who had volunteered to pace others were free to pace anyone who felt they needed a pacer but didn't have one.  As I was starting to sag in pace, and night was creeping in, I readily accepted a pacer, and was very thankful to get Karen, an ultrarunning vet with multiple 100-mile finishes who lived in the area and knew the trails well.  I was glad to have the experience on the trails.  I also got a fresh shirt change, which was just as much of welcome relief.  Leaving Foresthill just before 8 PM, I was 62 miles and nearly 16 hours into the race, with 38 miles to go... and a much greater challenge ahead.