Do I really lie to
this guy? A stupid thought since my weight was written on the band around my
wrist, but one I considered for a second. You can not imagine
the ridiculous thoughts you have when running all day. I hung my head
low, like my dog when he gets caught doing something naughty. "189.4"
I said, hoping he would think I said 199.4. "A little heavy, but everyone
is, we think it's the rain. You are good to go, just watch yourself" he
said.
Instantly a rush
of relief flowed through my veins, but at the same time, I really needed to
figure out if it was the rain or if I’d been taking in more salt than needed.
Perhaps it was the cocktail weenies from Red Star Ridge mixed with
three S! Caps (electrolyte pills) I'd taken already. Perhaps all my gear was just
waterlogged, either way I had about 12 miles to figure it out.
 |
| My crew from left to right: Queen Doom, Scotch Man, Half Iron Woman and the Doc. |
I left the weigh
station and practically sprinted the couple hundred yards to where my crew was.
Talk about a boost of adrenaline! I looked at my crew and said, "I'm
having a great time! I just ran through rain, snow, hail, huge winds and I feel
great! I'm doing awesome!" My crew along with all the other crews and
spectators within earshot just stood there silently looking at me. I later
found out, most people that were coming in were having a tough day with the
conditions on the course. I was doing great, although I did start to
have a bit of a hot spot on my left foot. Hot spots are the precursor to a blister;
you may or may not be able to stop it at that point. I get blisters when I run
more than about 45 miles. At the TRT100 in 2011 I ended up with 7 rather large
blisters that I had to run on from mile 62 to the finish. I hoped today I could
curtail any blisters with preventative measures.
I sat down took my
left shoe and sock off and found the foot of a 90 year old. Lovely pale white
shriveled up skin, all wrinkly and waterlogged. I grabbed a gob of Bag Balm and
coated my foot, threw the sock back on and then the shoe. I drank about 12oz of
juice that I’d had my crew bring then got
up out of the chair. I put my jacket back on then my pack. Something felt
wrong, and then I realized I made the same mistake again with the order of
things. Today the pack needed to be under the jacket! I quickly regrouped and
grabbed the 6 inch turkey, bacon and avocado Subway sandwich that I
had my crew buy for me.
It was somewhere
around this time that I saw Scotch Man! He along with Half Iron Woman, the Doc
and my fiance Queen Doom were my crew. Up until 3 pm the day before the race I thought
Scotch man was going to be AWOL. 48 hours before the race he was at work
and a piece of wood exploded and a sliver went into his eye! He spent 9 hours
in the emergency room then boarded a train from LA to meet the rest of my crew
in Reno
Unfortunately this news came with a drawback; I
was so excited I forgot to do some things. I left with sandwich in hand and
made my way out of the aid station. I waived to my crew turned around and took
off. I got about a half mile up the road and totally freaked out. Quite a few
swear words came flying out of my mouth as I realized what I'd forgotten to do.
Go to the bathroom and....wait for it......get more toilet paper from my crew. Dunce move of the day right there folks. I would not see them for 25 more miles and the toughest, gnarliest part of the
course was ahead of me. I also forgot lube! Once again I had to
do some damage control, I did not need to go at that moment but if I did, I was
plumb out of luck. We had descended to a point where only pine trees
lived, no more perfect little plants like I had found before. I decided to be
on the lookout and just make my way as best I could. Fortunately like I was able to do
all day, I put it out of my mind.
I had roughly 12
miles of solid downhill in front of me and I made the decision to keep on with
the laxed pace. I tried to run 10-12 minute miles and made sure to drink and
eat as much as possible. After a mile or so I started catching people, I paid
no attention to it until we reached the fire roads. At that point I saw tons of
runners and I was passing them in bunches. I looked at my watch; nope I'm not
going any faster, so they must be going slower.
Millers Defeat
(34.4 miles) 1:51 pm
I hit the M.D. aid
station up 56 minutes on my pace sheet, I only stopped long enough for two cups
of electrolyte drink and a cup of soup. I passed 5 people in this aid station.
It was at this time I started to realize I'd never felt this good after 35
miles before. Could I really be in that much better shape than last year? No, I
thought, I must be pacing better. I decided if it was working and I was gaining
on my splits don't try to fix what is not broken. I left the aid station ready
to roll; I took the left hand turn to the single track and started really
getting into a groove. I turned my iPod on for the first time and put one ear
bud in.
I had a secret
weapon, I had roughly 6 hours of music that I have a deep connection with. I have two
friends who go to Burning Man with me that are DJ's (DJ Izak Engel and Liquid Neon).
Listening to their music takes the pain away. I can not explain it, it just
makes me happy and hours go by like it’s only a split
second. I'm instantly transported to the Playa and thoughts of
dancing, art, and dust fill my head.
Dusty Corners
(38 miles) 2:39 pm
With the constant
beat of electronic dance music in my ear I flew into the next aid station at
Dusty Corners 50 minutes up. I stayed an extra minute or two there because they all were asking me if
I was hot. I was so far out of it (thanks iPod), I had not realized it was now
sunny and warm. I'd probably run for half an hour all bundled up. I
thought it would be good to really hit the hydration given the circumstances.
I left the aid
station going towards pucker point. This was ironic since
the second I passed that vista, puckering would be all I was doing for the next
4 miles. Yep that costly TP mistake was now back to haunt me. I was not sure if
the next aid station would have any supplies but hoped they might have a porta-potty.
It's out in the middle of nowhere and I thought maybe the volunteers would need
something to go in. I had to slow down on this section and I passed at least 2
other guys who were taking care of their business. It seemed odd and
inappropriate to pull over and ask them for supplies during their private moment, so I just meandered on to
the next aid station.
Last Chance
(43.3 miles) 3:49 pm
 |
| The toughest section of the run, while you are not going to make your race here, you can end it in a hurry! |
I entered Last
Chance 43 minutes up on my splits. I had to really slow down given my issues
and when I looked to the left of the aid station I saw a potty. YES! I
exclaimed loudly as I ran past all the food. "WAIT!", I heard behind
me, "you have to be weighed". Give me a second; this is an emergency
I shouted. I threw my pack, jacket and long sleeve on the ground
outside and jumped into the blue box of awesomeness. Never in my life have I
been so excited to see a stinky hot mobile john. You would think from the way I
reacted I just won the lottery. A couple minutes later all things were once
again right with my world. I suspected the worst was now behind me (excuse the
pun). I went over to the weigh station and like that 190.2. Back on track! It
really was the rain.
One of the best
things about Western States are the aid stations, the only thing better than
the food they serve are the people serving you. I've been on that side of the
race before and for a volunteer, hearing a runner thank you is something
special. I tried at each aid station to bring a little joy into the day of
whoever was helping me by thanking them. I grabbed what amounted to 2 full
grilled cheese sandwiches for the road, expressed my deepest gratitude and got
the hell out of there. I was now only about 30 minutes up on my splits due to
my stop and I still had to deal with the toughest 12 miles of the entire race.
I'd have to descend a couple thousand feet in 4 miles then make the
huge climb up to Devils Thumb.
I knew this part
of the course well; I'd spent many hours this year learning every turn, rock and stream crossing to cool down at. I knew my downhill legs were
good, but my slow pace while descending was working so well for me, I once
again chose not to push it. I figured there might be a chance that my climbing
would still be above par and maybe I could make up some time on the hills. Even
if I did not, I had a half hour in the bag. Any energy saved now would pay
huge dividends around mile 80 when it gets flat and running is a must.
I set off to
Devils Thumb feeling great, 45 miles into the race and I still felt like I'd
only run 20. I finally hit the bottom of the canyon which is the start of the Devils
Thumb climb. I started getting nervous; I've done this climb many times but never
with 46 miles in my legs. As is customary with these races one mile you feel
like a champ and the next like a chump. I hoped it would be a good climb, but
from the start, my quads felt tight and my breathing was forced. I started to
think the "easy times" were over and my fears of the long 9 hour slog
from TRT started to penetrate my head. I was mentally sabotaging myself and I
had no idea of how to stop it.
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