Not sure where this story begins. We finished in 51:16:30 – that’s from noon Friday until 3 p.m. Sunday. Tony and I were finishers 10 and 11 out of 12 finishers and 45 starters.
The “Plan”: some quickie Excel calculations told me I could do three hour laps (10 miles per lap) and take two three-hour naps and finish in 51 hours. I get frustratingly and uncontrollably sleepy at night, brings me to a staggering standstill where I find myself off the trail facing into the bushes, and which sort of reminds of that last scene from The Blair Witch Project where the dude is standing facing into the corner. Yelp. …Sometimes I can yell it out of my system, but that can annoy those around me. I knew I would need those naps if I wanted to finish. That said, in passing I did say to Tony that I would try to make it to 100 miles before taking a nap (wishful thinking).
My plan did not involve working late Wednesday night and getting only four hours of sleep Wednesday night. I’d really need those naps. I’m so screwed.
Preparation for this race involved lots of practice running “together.” Two failed attempts to run together at Capitol Peak last year. Two opportunities to run together resulting in two rides for Tony in the Subaru a/k/a Car of Shame in 07 and 08. :-) Two failed attempts at running 100 miles together (Plain and Foolish Gerbil). So uh…there’s a pattern there I’m sure of it… we knew each other’s weaknesses quite well and learned, maybe, how to overcome our own issues. But would we be able to run 150 miles together without frustrating the other? We initially didn’t plan to run it all together. Maybe a week, maybe two weeks in advance Tony got in his head that we could run it all together. I didn’t buy it. I knew I’d have to sleep early and that he would have to keep going without me.
We packed plenty of inclement weather clothing. I had my rain PROOF jacket from my no-car, running/biking to work days in 2007, and after a wet Dizzy Daze Tony also got a nice rain jacket at G.I. Joes/Joes (hey, I just saw they are going out of business – will have to get to my favorite store to see if they have any deals)… We also both had our down jackets. These were our saving grace and kept us cozy-ozy. Lots of socks, lots of gloves, extra long sleeve shirts, extra shorts (thank goodness…after falling a couple times the first night, my muddy shorts started giving me butt rash). If it was going to rain or get cold, we were ready.
Friday morning, day of race. Pouring, sideways rain. Distraught. Denial. Dejection. We ate at the Econolodge and got to witness our favorite activity: bickering married couple eating breakfast in the lobby. We laughed, ate our waffles, finally got on the road (quick stop at Starbucks first) and drove the 15 minutes to McNaughton Park.
Grabbed the closest parking spot and hurried to check in and then sat in the car for the next hour until it was time to go hear the briefing. Tony told the rain it had to stop for us. I think I started to cry out of fear… that I wouldn’t finish or that this would ruin us.
Andy Weinberg, the RD, tells us about the course while we all crowd inside a teepee thing with a roaring fire inside. Cough cough. Didn’t pay much attention, just wanted to start running. Aah, finally we begin. Felt good, not too hot inside our rain jackets, glad with my choice of clothing. We are running near some young ‘uns and learn they are the high schoolers also attemping 150. Later in the night we run near them again and their dirty jokes keep me awake a little longer.
After running through open grass fields, we finally hit the single track and I feel alive. It’s all going to be okay. Very fun trail. Is it fair we only get to run around on this 15 times? It will go by so quickly and I’m having so much fun. The trail charges up and down frequently. There are many landmarks to gauge the distance we have gone on each loop and eventually the loops will seem to fly by. I tell Tony that this trail is good for me… the continuous variations will keep me awake later I hope. Grassy loop, mud and steep climb, field running, Lord Hill like descent, cross some muddy creeks, rolling hills to first aid station, brown sugar sand, first creek, rope climb, long section to grassy hill that is nearly to the second aid station, little loop, second aid station, second creek, almost there, “1” sign, and then do it again. Around and around.
We changed into just long-sleeve shirts and windbreakers after the first loop, five hours to do two loops, after loop three it was already time to get our headlamps and down jackets out. I start feeling sleepy soon after it gets dark. Tony says we will slow down as it gets later. I have my one and only freak out that we will not be able to stay together. I can’t do longer than 3 hour loops and still nap. I caution that I may have to go ahead if the going gets too slow and I am not particularly comfortable with the disappointment in Tony’s voice, so I decide then that I will do whatever I can not to have to sleep and he digs deep too. Somehow we found a pace that night. I don’t remember much except that I kept my eyes closed a lot. Tony let us sit on a log at one point and put our heads down. I heard people pass us and Tony talked to them, but I was far way. We keep going. Counting three steps, five steps, open eyes, check where I am, oops step over that log, close my eyes again, one two three, glance up, I’m falling behind, jog to catch up, keep eyes open as long as possible. I think we hit mile 65 or 75 when the sun came up. It was wonderful. And for the first time I experienced what people say… “oh you’ll perk up when the sun comes up. Everyone does.” Well, I don’t. But today I perked right up. We both did… we even put in a couple sub three-hour loops just for show. Lots of coffee and frequent warm food from the aid station no doubt helped, as did my focus on Tony, it got me out of my own head.
Sometime during the hot short-sleeved Saturday afternoon my legs and feet began to feel the time they’d been up. We hid behind some bushes and took a nap in an open field. Maybe 10 minutes, no more than 20 was all that we needed to feel fresh legs again. This may be my favorite memory, lazing in the sun, dozing, half eaves dropping on the other runners going by on the other side of the wall of bushes.
The relief didn’t last long. My feet started to hurt at 90. At 100 I had blisters for sure. We thought though that we could make it to 110 before napping. To do this I had to fix my blisters, pulled off three toenails, so painful, so hard to get moving again, although, I knew if I could get through the sting, that they would feel better. Van started out with us on the 11th loop. It was good to see her. She hadn’t slept yet either. The sting in my blisters let up, but we were quite ready for a rest at mile 110. It was about 10 p.m. We climbed in the rental car, me in front, tony in the back and tried to get some sleep. It was fitful, and I kept waking up and looking at the clock counting down to 1 a.m. when the alarm would go off. It took us 20 minutes to get fully dressed again and out of the car. It was freezing and we worried we’d stayed at the car too long. One more lap in the dark we told ourselves and the sun will be up again on the 13th loop.
I didn’t wake up as much on Sunday morning. Took longer to shake off the sleepiness. Sunday was overcast and chilly, but still better than the night before. It had been a long night, very cold and slow at times. We’d shake our arms at our sides trying to move the chills out of our core. My teeth chattered and I willed us to go faster and sometimes thought I couldn’t take it anymore, that I would have to shout that we were never going to finish if we didn’t move faster.
My feet and body were tired. I had the energy, but my body ached. I just wanted to get off my feet. My blisters were filling up again, and the hills that I’d thought I could run on endlessly were now painful to ascend and even worse to descend. On the downhills I clung to any tree I could find to help me take the weight off my feet. I fell behind on every downhill. The flat sections were the only place I could run, and it took five, ten steps to break from a walk into a shuffling run on these sections. I should have been able to walk faster, but it put too much pressure on my toes, and a flat footed running style was less painful. We talked about the fact that we were actually going to finish, that we were going to do it together. Despite the pain, we laughed a lot. I can’t remember anything now, but I know the company was nice, better than nice.
Lap 14 was the worst. I fell so far behind and the area above my left knee felt like something was going to tear or pop right out of my leg. I had to pause after the steep downhills to make sure my legs could keep going. Tony kept pulling ahead and I was falling apart. I was crying, so typical. Either run with me or don’t I cried, I can’t take it, always trying to catch up. And so he patiently went slower for me. Van caught us toward the end of this loop, she still hadn’t slept and was still going steady. We got to witness her finish, quite fortunate timing. I couldn’t keep going on my blisters and had to fix them again just so I could go 10 more miles. Tony and RD Andy rounded up duct tape… I had no idea what I was doing but figured if I taped them after I popped them they couldn’t fill up again and hurt me. We got moving again slowly. It was easier to run through the pain knowing that it was the last lap and that we had over four hours to finish. Still the pain above my left knee scared me at times, but it only had to make it 10 more miles. Finally, at the second aid station, we said cheers and goodbye to the people there. Not much farther now. We took our time, but towards the end ran to get it over with. Tony held my hand and we ran across the finish line. It was a wonderful feeling to be done, yet through it all I never wished for it to be over. A week later and the race didn’t affect me like other races have. I feel no need to pack up and move to Illinois (yeah, I still fantasize about Alaska) I have other things besides running in my life now; the running doesn’t bring the high-highs, and the low-lows when it ends. Life is good… as it should be dammit.
Some important numbers/other crap I remember:
# of pre-race trips to Walmart: 2
# of major @#$%^& bombs: 2. Once going through creek first time after having just popped blisters – owie!! And the second time when some freak local was just hiding in the trees in the dark and scared the bejeezus out of me as I went by. Sh!t F*ck!
# Sock Changes: only 4
# of Pairs of Shoes: 2
# Cookies eaten: 30 at least!
# songs listened to on ipod: <1
# falls in mud: 2 back to back
# of times RD Andy checked on us: nearly every lap – very attentive and welcoming
# of PNW finishers: 4 (yay Jess, Van and Tony!)
