The start: A high and happy place
The day started as I dreamed it would. An incredible buzz of excitement at the start. I choked back a couple of tears as the clock counted down from two minutes to one and then finally, to the start. There's no hiding the fact this race means a lot to me. I was enjoying the moment of feeling fully alive.
Happy- 10 minutes before the start
My plan all along was to be in the slower third of the field through the high country. As we climbed a little higher towards the escarpment and I could see the runners ahead and behind I figured I was placed nicely towards the end of the field. Not running a step in the first few miles of a race may seem foolish but it served me well as I reached the top with little effort. My breathing was easy and my legs felt fresh. Jez Bragg and I had spent the previous seven days at altitude, for Jez it would pay-off big time as he recorded a stunning third place finish!
Another advantage of a slow start is getting caught in a conga-line of runners on the single track trail on the other side of the escarpment. This would force me to keep my pace slow. In many places I was jogging or just walking. Taking a potty break before Lyon Ridge, I lost my 25 runner conga line and had the rare experience of running completely alone through the Granite Chief Wilderness area for about ten minutes.
By the time I arrived at Lyon Ridge with Matt, Karalee and Ling-ru I was feeling great and still far back in the field, probably just slightly faster than 30-hour pace. I thanked the volunteers at Lyon Ridge before leaving. I am embarrassed to say I forgot to say thank you many times during the event.
Pacing off Matt Keyes, Karalee Morris and Derek Semanski, we worked our way through to Red Star, climbing the hills at easy effort and floating the downhills. Coming in to Red Star Ridge, I felt like I was easing my way nicely in to this run. With nothing but a mild case of "jungle butt" beginning to form, I was feeling fine. Nothing too bad that some strategically placed bodyglide couldn't fix (trust me – you do not want details). Red Star to Duncan usually beats me up on short training runs so I was decidedly nervous. There were simply to many runners around me keeping me occupied to notice the terrain. It was on this section that I began over-taking some of the other faster starters who were beginning to fade a little while my pace held steady. Matt and Derek were near me, an excellent sign since these two know how to pace this race.
Duncan Canyon: Mile 23.4. 3:40 elapsed. 220th place.
Coming in to Duncan Canyon Aid Station, I was feeling very confident. Being a crew access point, I grabbed a Vespa from Peter and took in a lot of cheering from the sidelines. I am not sure if there were supporters out there who knew me or if the looked up my number in the race booklet, either way the support was loud and well-appreciated. I took in a lot of cold liquid and proceeded to walk out of there. Everyone was taking a good long walk break after having run over Red Star Ridge. I was perhaps the first of my group to start running again and started the cruise down to Duncan Creek, an easily runnable section. Steve Itano and Rena Schumann were with me – both fine runners so I was in great company. Unfortunately, my friend Nick Ham from the UK had a bad stomach and was beginning to suffer. At Duncan Creek I wet everything I had for the climb out of there, I was feeling refreshed. I passed Anthony Brantley coming out of there – another runner I hoped was OK since he's usually way stronger than I am. I was a little concerned I may be pushing the pace a little fast since I was starting to reel in a lot of runners. My effort seemed quite low so I decided I needed to back my body and keep moving.
At Robinson Flat: Mile 29.7. 06:50 elapsed. 183rd place
Oh the crowd! What a spectacle. I have never run through a tunnel of people before, but there they all were lined up on either side of the road. Amazing. I got my blood, salt and feed intake data all checked by a the sodium study group, a process which was amazingly quick. My smiling chief crew person, Lindsay Meyer was on had to hand me another Vespa and some dry Injinji socks. My feet were fine, but a change in to dry socks was a smart preventative move since I had thoroughly drenched myself in Duncan Creek. Thank you Lindsey, I was so relieved that you drove all that way just to see me for a couple of minutes. The crowd must have had me pumped up bigtime – as soon as I left the aid station I was flying. I remember thinking at the time "I am running like Bruce Labelle"
Coming in to Robinson Flat - I was delighted with so much crowd support and (of course) my crew.
To Miller's Defeat Mile 34.4. 08:04 elapsed. 148th place
I walked most of the way to the top of Little Bald Mountain a mile after Robinson Flat to let the liquid in my stomach settle and allowing my legs to warm back up after the break at the aid station. The top of Little Bald is back up in high altitude so there's no need to push this hill. Another 14 miles of runnable net downhill is to follow. On this section I concentrated everything I had on two simple things that would become the game-changer. Running form and hydration. I was constantly focused on running tall, light and keeping my weight over my feet. For hydration I'd sip on Gu2O and water (one in each bottle) every five minutes. I would finally lose sight of Matt's yellow shorts ahead of me just before the Miller's Defeat Aid station – which had moved down the road another .8 miles.
To Last Chance: Mile 43.8 09:34 elapsed 135th place
The top of Little Bald Mountain to the edge of Deadwood Canyon, I call the "transition zone". It transitions out of the high country and in to the canyons. Having long legs, I knew I had the advantage of being able to cruise this section relatively easily if I could maintain energy levels and running form. On the descent to Dusty many runners ahead of me were reduced to a walk while I was feeling comfortable running the long gentle downhill. The same through to Last Chance, I knew I only had to keep on running and the race would take of itself. There are a couple of little uphills around Pucker Point that have slowed me in the past but Steve Itano and I cruised over them, we were having a great day.
I was not just having a great run, I was having a dream run. This is how I had pictured the race in my mind and I was ecstatic, I seemed to be running the perfect race.
To Michigan Bluff. Mile 55.7 13:20 elapsed. 129th place
I have run between Last Chance and Michigan Buff more times than I care to remember, so I knew every rock, hill and tail-less lizard on the trail. I took the descent to Swinging Bridge very easily, partly because I am a scaredy-cat runner on steep downhill's. Right near Swinging Bridge Derek caught me with his usual super downhill running style. Derek, Karalee and I soaked in the creek about 200-yards past the bridge so we would be cool for the hike up those mean switchbacks. I hiked Devils Thumb joined by two Safety Patrol guys right behind me. They wanted to know all about New Zealand, unfortunately after about the tenth question, I said I really need to just breathe on this climb, they graciously understood.
At the top of the Thumb I was triumphantly happy and not about to let simple polite applause greet me. THE THUMB – YEAH! I roared at full voice at the Aid Station responded back with huge cheers. At the medical I was only 2.5 lb. down in weight and feeling fine. The only thing the medical team said was to make sure I use sunscreen in the future. There were some signs of carnage beginning. I rocked out of there and ran smoothly to the edge of Eldorado Canyon.
On the descent, my right calf started tightening up. I figured this was most likely from the climb up the thumb and it would work its way out soon. By the time I reached the bottom of Eldorado, the calf was very sore and I had been forced to walk nearly a mile of the downhill. I was frustrated at losing time on a part of the course that I had trained myself to move through so efficiently. I cooled down with a sponge and some cold drinks at aid station and walked up the hill – soaking wet. I climbed exactly as I had practiced dozens of times previously in training, slower at the bottom and accelerating out of the top. The heat was never a factoring the canyons, perhaps because I had another point of focus, my calf was now starting to bother me on the uphill too. I knew I needed some attention at Michigan Bluff.
Coming in to Michigan Bluff
At Michigan Bluff: The first of many massage sessions this day
The Massage Zone. Michigan Bluff and Foresthill.
Running in to Michigan Bluff, I needed that calf massage more than anything else (including water). I lay on the table while the temporary massage therapist (the real one had gone out an a false rescue in the canyon) tried to work my leg. I basically said she was hopeless and jumped off the table. I was starting to get frustrated. My pacer Ken Parnow and Lindsey were again on hand with a change of socks, some welcome nutrition and thankfully a change of shorts also. I walked out of Michigan Bluff but was again soon running, a very encouraging sign having come through the two largest canyons and now running further than I ever have done before.
Beginning the gentle climb before descending in to Volcano Canyon
Climbing the gentle gradient to the top of Gorman Ranch Road I startled a huge black bear just a few yards away. He ran off huffing and puffing, I got a shot of adrenaline to add to the caffeine I had begun to take in at Michigan. The climb to Bath Road was very emotional. For months I had been hoping that Dan Moores would be healthy enough to be here on race day. Sadly it was not to be, I got a photo taken with Elke Truscott and I left that aid station with a heavy heart. The cheers of support from the Auburn Running Co. crew were amazing, the runner I was with said I must be one popular guy.
Coming in to Foresthill was a spectacle. Easily the largest crowd I have ever seen in ultra-running. My name was being yelled from both left and right, I was in such a happy blur that I could not work out who was cheering me on, but I am sure I had lots of friends out there in the crowd – thank you ☺ As happy as I was with my reception, I was thoroughly bothered by the calf muscle that would not quit. After taking my vital signs (the medics said I looked great) I tried for another massage to get the knots out of my calves. Gordy and his chiro-buddy double-teamed me. It had no effect and I was forced to leave before I would lose too much time on the table. Ken handed me my lights and we started for Cal Street.
I had reached Foresthill in 123rd place. The highest I was to climb in the raking all day.
Leaving Foresthill with Ken: The crowd support was huge. I was simply amazed.
Through to the River Crossing: A Dark and Unhappy Place
Ken and left Foresthill together. I was delighted to have him with me. Being a keen young local ultrarunner, I was hoping to provide him with his first Western States pacing experience. We ran pretty solidly down to Cal 1, turning on the headlamps about halfway down. This was the Aid Station I was most looking forward to – staffed by my friends from the Golden Valley Harriers Running Club. They had done a great job in a hot-as-hell location, I am proud to be a memver of such a fine running club.
All smiles with the GVH'ers at Peachstone (Cal 1)
Immediately after Cal 1 I started having difficulty running. The pain was persisting in my calf. Uphills were becoming a real hassle since I could not stretch out my right calf to its full length. Downhills were also getting worse as the eccentric contractions seemed to stabbed in to the back of my leg. Well over 90 minutes later I arrived at Cal2 where I jumped on a table for another massage. Along the way, Ken and I had stopped in the darkness on the side of the trail to massage the muscle out. Nothing had any effect.
At Cal2 One kind volunteer just wrenched on my leg, pressing deep into the muscle, icing and massaging again for about half an hour. Runners came and went, I stayed on the table trying to get some relief. Finally, after an eternity I got off the table and walked downhill. As much as Ken tried to get me running, I just could not run, the pain was ratcheting up and my range of motion was diminishing. The walk to Cal 3 and Rucky Chuck was starting to become a hobble. The same massage was repeated at Cal3, trying to gain mobility. All though this time I kept thinking that either recovery would come with the next massage when the knots were out. Eeither that, or I could walk it in to the finish. I was well ahead of the cut-off's but starting to lose time dramatically.
I spent over an hour in this position at various aid stations during the night
My poor pacer was forced to pace around at the aid stations while I tried to get this leg moving again.
Mile 78: Frozen at the River. Down to 160th place.
Over five and a half hours from Foresthill I arrived at Rucky Chuck. The Monsters of Massage were there and I needed a massage more than anything. Almost immediately, three massage therapists set to work on my calf trying to relieve the tension as I winced in pain with every touch. Ken very kindly shuttled back and forth to the aid station getting broth and calories in to me. Chuck Godtfredsen promised to kick me out 10-minutes after arriving but he saw my condition was genuinely serious and let me stay on for an extra half an hour. I saw perhaps 20 runners pass me by while I was lying on the table. Eventually Chuck nudged me out the door and I gingerly crossed the cold river.
Mile 78 to 82. The final push from darkness to daylight.
The freezing cold water from the river seemed to help, I was able to push uphill with only a moderate amount of pain. In fact it became so tolerable, I was able to speed up a little and push on to Green Gate, passing other runners. I was still hours ahead of the cut-off but was confident I could either walk it in to the finish or the calf would come right and I'd be able to run.
We sat down for a couple of minutes at Green Gate. Ken diligently changed the batteries on the headlamps for the additional two hours of daylight we had left and we started walking out of there. Immediately things went back to bad, the worse. The calf had seized up again and walking was a pure struggle. Every step I had taken in the past 15 miles was painful but now the pain was at a whole new level. I was near 30-40 minutes per mile pace and each mile seemed to take between 5 and 10 minutes longer than the previous one. I was staggering badly. Each time I stepped off the trail to let a runner pass me, I fought to regain my balance.
After 30 miles of battling through gradually increasing pain and loss of mobility, I knew could not longer make it to the next aid station. I had thrown everything I knew (extra salt, over one hour of massage, stretching, Tylenol, ice, the river) at this calf muscle at it failed to respond completely, The only responsible thing to do was to drop somewhere that I could be easily rescued. Third Gate (about mile 82) between Green Gate and Auburn Lake Trails was that location. Ken left me the rest of his food and drink and I sat down on the side of the trail. I shook his hand and thanked him for being a great pacer. He ran ahead to get medical help.
Alone with my thoughts
I sat alone on the side of the trail. The sun was beginning to rise as three years of hope, training and planning were fading. I was only slightly disappointed in the end result but satisfied in knowing I had given this race everything. Battle scarred runners passed by and I offered my support to all of them. "Just checking my shoes was the story I told them "keep on moving smoothly". But soon my time to leave the trail would come.
A medic come down the trail accompanied by my pacer. He took my vital signs saying I was perfectly normal. Unable to bear weight on my leg anymore, I rolled into the stretcher closed my eyes and I was done.
