Short version: I ran my third 100-miler (11 weeks after my first one) at Labor of Love on 20-21 April. I ran it in 26:26, which wasn’t a PR, but it was on a much more difficult course than where I got my PR last month. There were lots of friends at the race. I was fortunate to have elite 100-miler Dave James pace me for 27 miles. In spite of a bad spot from miles 66-88, the race was an awesome experience. It was a small race (34 starters, 25 finishers), but I was 3rd female overall (out of 6 finishers, 8 starters). My next 100-miler is 5 weeks away. I love the ultrarunning community. 🙂
Much longer version:
The ultrarunning community is like my family, and that is not an overstatement. That group of people is the only group of people in which I have *ever* felt fully accepted. The foundations for some of my most meaningful friendships have been built over the span of hours across miles shared with strangers. This has been the case since my very first interaction with an ultrarunner. When I wasn’t sure if I should try my first 50k, I emailed someone in a book I’d just read. It just so happened to be ultrarunning legend David Horton. He gave me the encouragement to try, and I did it. I’ve been overwhelmed with the generosity and kindness of everyone I’ve crossed paths with, which extends beyond other runners to volunteers, race directors, and other runners’ crews and families.
Labor of Love is a special race for me, as it was the site of my first 50-miler last year. I’d done 50+ miles on two other occasions, but both instances were in fixed-time races, so there had been no obligation to complete a certain distance. My first official 50-miler was a big milestone for me, and I’d managed to do it in 11:21 which was good enough for 3rd place female overall. Honestly, though, I would have been okay with this being my single Labor of Love event ever. The 100-miler was on the same 11-mile strip of pavement, and over 4 out-and-backs just didn’t appeal to me. However, I also had no desire to step down to any of the lower distances (since there are 2 10k options, 2 HM options, a marathon, and a 50k in addition to the 50-miler and 100-miler).
After my last 100-miler last month, I lost focus. With no races to aim for, I didn’t do any concentrated quality training. And I was depressed. I know this is common–to train months for a race and then finish and think, “Now what?” I had this sentiment, and I also missed my friends. My second 100-miler was so much fun. I knew over a dozen people before I ever showed up, and at the race, I got to meet some online friends who I felt like I’d known a long time, and I also met a lot of new friends. Simply put, I wanted to see them again… and a lot of them would be at Labor of Love. I committed to running or at least volunteering since I couldn’t pass up the chance to spend more time with them. Also, this is a local race for me–no reason not to go.
In the end, a bunch of my on-the-fence friends jumped on the 100-mile bandwagon and I figured, “Why not?” I signed up two weeks prior to the race, just in time to taper, haha. I accepted whatever was to come, knowing it might not be pretty, but at least I’d be amongst friends. I was grateful for the 32-hour cut-off, which is very liberal, but in the back of my mind, I still remembered how easy I thought the 30-hour cut-off for my first 100-miler in February would be… and I only made it with 42 minutes to spare. Forty-two minutes might seem like a long time, but that equates to a mere 25 seconds per mile, including any stops.
After I made the decision to run Labor of Love, I decided to wear a sign that said http://www.walkforliz.com in order to help raise awareness for a “project” a friend of mine is doing. Drew who is crossing the country on foot to raise money for a lady named Liz (who he has never met) as a random act of kindness. Liz beat leukemia but was recently diagnosed with severe multiple sclerosis. She is only 21 years old, is pregnant, and already has a 20-month-old daughter she has difficulty doing anything with. Drew is raising money to ease some of the financial burden for her and her family. I just met Drew two weeks prior to Labor of Love when I found his story online, saw he was coming through my area, and invited him to stay at our house and keep him company one of his days on the road. Yup, I invited a stranger into our home, and I not only survived but gained a friend. I shared 32 miles with Drew one day, mostly walking but with some running. He inspires me and his cause is genuine. I figured the least I could do would be to raise a bit more awareness for what he’s doing by “advertising” during the race. I WILL write a non-race report in a couple days about the ultra distance I covered with Drew (which I meant to do over a week ago). He is a good person, and I like good people. 🙂
A couple days after I told Drew I would wear the sign, the tragedy in Boston happened, so I added a blurb about that; my friend Deb (referenced a bit later) made the ribbons for us.
And blue and yellow fingernails for Boston. 😉
Last month at my second 100-miler, BLU 100, there was a guy who ran the 50k whose name didn’t sound familiar, but based on his fast finish time, I felt like I should know who he was. Luckily, it wasn’t too long before he added me as a friend on Facebook. He is one of the fastest 100-milers in the world and won the U.S. 100-mile trail championship race twice. His name is Dave James. We exchanged a handful of Facebook messages after the race. He seemed nice. I mentioned he should come out and do Labor of Love or one of the other local Calico races sometime. As with everyone I tell to visit Vegas, I noted that we have a guest room if he didn’t have other accommodations. He already had a couple races on his schedule, including a 100-miler that he won, so he noted it would be a Thursday-before-the-race decision if he came. I assumed he wasn’t coming, but remembered this statement the Thursday before Labor of Love. I messaged him and he said he was coming but hadn’t committed to a race yet. He noted some transportation issues he had and I did some coordination to ensure he would be able to get around here, specifically to the airport after the race. He seemed very appreciative.
The night before Labor of Love, Ken and Stephanie, who were the co-race directors at BLU 100 hosted a dinner at their house–there were probably two dozen people if not more, and I knew most of them. They also had over a dozen out-of-town runners staying with them, including Dave James. My husband and I went to the dinner, and when we walked out to the back patio, a bunch of people were already eating. I scanned the faces at the table and then said something like, “Hey, I don’t know all of you, but I’m Katrina.” Dave immediately stood up, introduced himself, and thanked me for helping him out with transportation and inviting him to the race. He’s a very unassuming guy and he’s very modest; we chatted a bit over dinner.
At the conclusion of dinner, a few up us stayed out back to chat. Karla (who I crewed at Badwater), Josh (who I met at BLU 100 and felt connected with since his first 100-miler was the same one as mine, just a few years prior, and he was even closer to the cut-off than me… but he had made HUGE improvements), Dave, and I chatted about running-related things. Josh intrigued us all by talking about a 500k (not a typo) race he’d run twice. I loved the few moments of silence where the other three of us just look looked at each other while mulling over the possibilities while Josh sat there likely wondering what he’d started.
It was during this little chat that I discovered something interesting and I got a better grasp on my “lineage”… Ian Sharman was my coach for 15 months and helped me make tremendous improvements in my running; he’s most notably known for his 12:44 100-mile time. Who did he get some of his guidance from for that race? Dave James, who had just run a 13:06. And who encouraged Dave to try for a low 13-hour 100-miler in a sea of naysayers? Eric Clifton. I met Eric Clifton “randomly” about two months ago right after my first 100-miler when I was lost and in need of direction for my second 100-miler. His advice and perspective largely drove how I trained for and ran BLU 100, where I got my nearly 4.5 hour PR (24:53). He has a ton of experience and takes the time to share it with me; he also spent a few hours with me at BLU 100 when he had a “crash and burn” episode during his own race–he’s known for his epic successes and equally epic failures. Eric’s one of the most intriguing people I know. I also consider him a friend.
Toward the end of the evening on Friday, Dave and I were talking and he asked if I had a pacer. Of course I didn’t (as that would mean I knew someone local who was willing and able to spend 22 miles with me in the middle of the night). He asked when I was allowed to have a pacer, and I told him mile 44 (after two out-and-backs). There was a pause, during which what I thought was happening and what logic told me wasn’t possible didn’t match. And then it happened. Dave asked if he could keep me company miles 44-66. WHAT?! After going home, Dave and I exchanged a few messages on Facebook, and I gave him a couple opportunities to change his mind. But he looked up my past ultra results online and still seemed to want to pace me. I was happy about this, but I still couldn’t imagine this actually happening.
I chatted quite a bit with other people at the dinner too. There were a handful of us who had been at BLU 100 last month. Deb, Rob, and their son Matt are among these people. I met Rob through a mutual friend online and I’d met him and his family at BLU. At BLU, Rob ran the 100-miler while Deb and Matt completed their first marathons. I remember Matt had been so sweet–he always said something nice to me by name, and he was happy to announce to me when I got to the halfway point, haha. I love this family. I also met Mark for the first time, even though we’d done a handful of the same races in the past, including BLU 100. He adores Hokas (as did most of the people I saw other the weekend for that matter…), so I have to like him by default. 😉 Vanessa is someone else I had seen at races before but never met; she was kind.
Mike and Kimberly are a couple I keep seeing at races. I knew who Mike was since Badwater last year, since he ran it and he’s friends with Karla (who I crewed), but I didn’t officially meet him until BLU. Just a few months ago, I realized that this lady I kept seeing at races was actually his wife Kimberly. She finished just behind me at the Labor of Love 50-miler last year and I have photos from Badwater that we’re both in. I was glad to finally really meet her at the dinner, even though we’d exchanged some words at BLU.
This is the *only* photo from the whole weekend where I’m not wearing running clothes; this is my friend Giovanni and me.
The Labor of Love 100-mile course consists of a little over 4.5 out-and-backs on an 11-mile paved road. The elevation varies from 4,600 to 5,700 feet, and the race has over 8,000 feet of gain (and the same amount of descent). There were three points we could have drop bags: at each end and in the middle, which corresponded to the three aid stations. I opted to have three bags, although the one at the far end was very minimal with just a light and a change of clothes. My “main” bag was in the middle one since I saw it every 11 miles. I also had a bag at the start/finish area. I always overpack, but there’s no reason not to; if nothing else, it gives me peace of mind!
This was all of my race day stuff, including what I wore/carried and my drop bags.
Saturday morning, I got to the start area and had a great time chatting with a bunch of friends there I knew. Dave was there too; he said he wasn’t going to do a race that day, but maybe the next day. Based on my 9:52 time to do two out-and-backs last year and my uncertainty about when I would get to that same point this year (doing the 100-miler instead of the 50-miler), Dave said he’d met me at the start/finish area around 5pm (10 hours into the race). Cool! It appears I still had a pacer. I also ran into a guy I work with, who’s sort of a jerk. He knows I run long races, but I guess It caught him off-guard that I was there. He was defensive with I asked him what race he was doing, then he told me he was doing the 10k. He responded and said, “You’re probably doing the f&^%ing 100-miler, huh?” I said I was, to which his eyes got really wide and he said, “Really?! You’re seriously going to f&^*ing run 100 miles?!” He then awkwardly introduced me to his wife using similar language. He said I was crazy, at which point I just smiled and turned around to start talking to a bunch of my friends who were also doing the 100-miler.
This photo makes me laugh so much. These are my friends Josh and Colleen with me, and the guy from work is the one looking toward us in the background with a very weird expression that seems to sum up his sentiments about “people like us.” Haha.
Here’s another photo of Colleen and me. She told me she was going to wear all pink. I had a pink running skirt, so I thought I’d wear it, in spite of the fact it was new and I’d run less than five miles in it (and I had ZERO issues with it!).
And here’s a photo of Dave and me. (Yeah, he’s super nice, fast, and dare I say quite attractive.)
I didn’t really have a strategy going into the race. Since the course is all hills, I decided I was going to walk the inclines and run the other parts. The course has significantly more elevation gain on the way out to the turn-around point than on the way back. This was a bit difficult mentally because I started walking earlier than a lot of other people, and after only about a half mile of running together, I let my friend Karla go because I didn’t want to run uphill. In the first 11 miles, I had a chance to interact with a lot of people before we got really spread out.
Colleen and I briefly met at BLU 100 last month (also her second 100-miler) and we’d interacted a lot between that race and Labor of Love. We got along really well, and we’re actually both local to this area (although we live as far apart as geographically possible… about an hour or maybe a little more). Mitch is someone I first met at the Once in a Blue Moon 12-hour race last summer, and we’d run into each other multiple times since then. Giovanni is someone I’d seen at races for years, but I didn’t know his name until my second 100-miler. Colleen actually asked me at that race if I knew Giovanni, since he also lives in Vegas, and I said I didn’t. Giovanni and I talked a bit during that race too. It wasn’t until afterward that I realized that I DID know Giovanni, I just hadn’t know that was his name, haha. Eric W (not to be confused with Eric C) had been at my second 100-miler, but I had not met him at that race. But we had become Facebook “friends” so it was nice to meet him in person.
Eric and me with Mitch up ahead a bit; this was around the 6-mile point. Giovanni took this photo and quite a few other ones.
Eric and me again.
By myself. This is one of the many photos that I don’t know when it was taken. I can typically figure out when photos were taken based on what I’m wearing and who I’m with. Since I went through minimal clothing changes and ran a lot of the race by myself, all I can say is that this was taken somewhere in the first 44 miles of the race.
Another photo of just me.
Here’s Eric and me again.
And a close-up of the sign on my back. I also had a small sign on the front of my skirt that said walkforliz.com, but none of the photos captured it clearly. I was excited the few times people did ask about the web site and I was able to share what Drew’s doing. 🙂
There was another guy whose name is Jay(?) who I have seen at a lot of local races, mostly marathons. We always seem to spend the last few miles “leapfrogging” each other and exchanging a few words. He is also in my finisher photo from my 51k last summer. We ran and chatted off and on for about seven miles at the beginning before we realized we were doing different races. He was doing the marathon. I wasn’t sure how we were moving at the same pace if our marathon paces are about equal and I was running almost four times farther, but I chose to not try to analyze the situation. When he discovered I was doing the 100-miler, he had a lot of questions. He seemed like he genuinely wanted to understand my motivation and other “whys” of the situation, but it was still a concept he could not seem to wrap his mind around. I don’t blame him, really. Someone recently reminded me that last July, I said I would never do a 100-miler. 😉
Here’s a great photo of Jay and me.
The major exception to all of the inclines in the first 11 miles of every out-and-back is a pretty steep descent that lasts a bit less than a mile. It was a lot of fun to run down (the first few times) but not so fun going back up. The first out-and-back was quite fun because there were lots of people out there: the 100-milers, the 50-milers, and also marathoners. While the shorter races were going on, there were more water stops, which is sort of ironic. I took advantage of them, though. In addition to taking a gel every 40 minutes, I’d grab a cup of Heed at each water stop and take a couple mouthfuls. I carried a 20-ounce Amphipod bottle and I just kept water in it; this worked out well so I could use the water to rinse my hands if they got sticky.
This is the hill, which angles off to the left, back to the right, and then it curves upward some more out of sight.
I noticed a small hotspot developing on the side of my big left toe, so I took a few moments at the mid-point aid station (16.5 miles in) to put a blister bandage on it. I’ve learned that not only is it important to deal with issues as soon as they arise, but it’s worth the extra few moments to do things right. This meant I wiped off the area with an alcohol pad and let it dry before applying the bandage. While my toe was drying, I took advantage of the time I had to stretch, put more gels in my spibelt, etc. I finished the first out-and-back in 4:24; the “back” part was 10 minutes faster than the “out” part; while the times got longer each time, going back to the start/finish always took less time. This time was 8 minutes faster than the year prior when I was doing the 50-miler, but I was feeling fine, so I didn’t question it.
The second out-and-back was rather uneventful. People were getting more and more spread out. There were a few little groups/pairs of people running together, but with the exception of a few minutes here or there, I was on my own. But I was enjoying myself. With only 34 100-milers, including 8 women, I always knew my placing amongst the women. Heading out from the start/finish at mile 22, I knew I was the 4th place female, but I was literally less than three minutes ahead of Colleen and a lady I’d passed at mile 20. I kept track of where I was just for my situational awareness, not because I wanted to run anyone else’s race, especially that early on. At mile 27.5, I grabbed my 12-ounce Amphipod water bottle out of my bag. The *only* other time I’ve ever run with two handhelds was at Labor of Love last year, as I always like to have access to water and the temperature had risen to the mid 80s.
Here is another photo taken sometime in the first 44 miles. What cracks me up is that I look so worn out… even though, at a minimum, I still had 17 HOURS left.
And my “official” race photo, again, taken somewhere in the first 44 miles… although I actually think it was within the first 22 as the photographer didn’t stay around very long.
When I left the aid station after grabbing my second bottle, I was surprised to look ahead and see Karla off in the distance; I’ve spent enough time behind her in races that I can pick her out pretty easily! I wasn’t intentionally speeding up, but I was slowly creeping up on her. I was about 30 seconds back for probably about a mile… until she finally realized I was there when a runner passed her, she exchanged some words, and then she heard the same runner exchange words with someone right behind her. She started running more, and I caught up, but it was short-lived, as I expected it to be. Karla’s a very consistent runner, but it was nice to spend a few minutes with her.
Later in that out-and-back, I developed another hotspot of my left foot and took a few minutes at mile 38.5 to remedy it. Things were going well. Whenever I crossed anyone going in the opposite direction, I always said something to them. Those types of interactions are what I love about ultras.
I was amused by the fact that there was a female leading for most of the race. That alone wasn’t super strange since Calico races tend to not attract top competitors, but I was intrigued by how far ahead she was of the first male, my friend Mike (who races a lot, including running Badwater). I also didn’t recognize the woman, and she never said anything or acknowledged words of encouragement from me. I figured she was just very focused and “in the zone,” but it still stood out to me. Of course I took advantage of every opportunity I had to tell Mike he needed to catch up to her… because that’s what friends are for. 😉
The first 44 miles went by really smoothly and I got to the end of the second out-and-back in an elapsed time of 9:19, 33 minutes faster than I did last year. This was 41 minutes quicker than Dave expected me, so he wasn’t ready. I asked around and no one had seen him, but finally one lady said he was taking a nap. I told her to tell him I was back out on the course when he woke up, but she insisted on waking him. Since it was going to take him a few minutes to get ready, I was told to go ahead and he’d catch up. I remember commenting, “Yeah, I don’t think he’ll have any problem doing that!”
Prior to this race, I’d only ever had two pacers, which was at my first 100 (two months ago). One lady was someone who chose her first ultra three years ago due to a race report I’d written the year prior (from my first one), and we actually met during her ultra when she recognized me… then we kept in touch and she paced me for miles 60-80 at RR100. My husband also paced me at the same race for the last 20 miles. They were awesome, but they’d never paced anyone before, and honestly, by the time I was with either of them, I was mostly in survival mode, so the biggest thing they did was just talk to me. Dave is super experienced in racing and pacing, so it was an interesting experience. He was awesome. He talked to me lots, but he also did tons of other things that enhanced my performance during the race. Having him as a pacer (or any pacer for that matter) is a total luxury. He took good care of me.
My third out-and-back was my most enjoyable one and also the one that seemed to take the least amount of time (although it actually took a bit more time than the first two). Dave didn’t carry water, so he frequently took advantage of the “abandoned” water stations from earlier in the day, even when it meant there weren’t any cups or he practically had to lie on the ground to access the water cooler. He also took restroom breaks. I sort of made it a game to see how far I could get before he caught back up. (Yup, there’s my confession, Dave. Your suspicions were correct.)
I LOVED running down the big hill, and right before this, at mile 49, Dave said he’d catch up. After a couple minutes of running down the hill, I hadn’t seen him yet, so I looked behind me and he was about 20 feet back. I said, “I thought you were going to run with me!” to which he responded, “I’m trying to catch up.” I motioned with my hand to catch back up, after which I immediately thought, “Whoa, I can’t believe there was any situation ever where I would have the opportunity to tell Dave James to hurry up!” We both had a good laugh about this. My pace, by the way, was an 8:3x during this descent, which is fast for me, but nothing for Dave. Dave had actually run down to the far end of the course earlier in the day in a “leisurely” sub-7 minute pace before volunteering down there for a bit, doing some trail running, and eventually making it back to the start finish area where he took his nap before pacing me.
Around mile 52 or so, Karla, who’d stopped at the aid station at mile 49.5 caught up to Dave and me. The three of us ran together a bit talking about random running things. I attempted to take a picture of the three of us while running, which turned out pretty bad. But then Dave was kind enough to run ahead a bit and take a photo of Karla and me; that single photo marks a very brief moment in time where Karla and I were tied (for 3rd place female). It was starting to cool down by this time, so Karla ran ahead to the turn-around and in pursuit of her drop bag at the middle aid station (mile 60.5). I had a jacket in my far end drop bag, although shortly after putting it on and running it is, I was way too warm so I took it off. Dave asked me if I wanted to wear his lighter jacket and if I wanted him to carry my jacket I didn’t want to wear. I thanked him but opted to go jacket-less a bit longer and to just tie the one I had around my waist. Dave had also offered me a jacket prior to the start of the race because it looked like I was underdressed, even though I felt fine.
Bad “self” portrait of Dave, Karla, and me.
And the better photo Dave took of Karla and me when we were momentarily tied, haha. I really like this photo.
Dave was good at ensuring I was eating and drinking enough. When it got to the point I didn’t feel like eating much and mostly just ate oranges, he cut up oranges for me (leaving the other volunteers to tend to other runners) but also insisted that I eat some other food. At mile 60.5, he told me I needed to eat some real food. When I tried to get away with not doing it, he told me to eat some ramen noodles. I tried to give him reasons why I couldn’t… I didn’t want to waste time stopping to eat, I couldn’t eat while I walked because I was holding two water bottles, I didn’t want to carry it after I was finished, etc. But he told me to give me my water bottles, to start walking and eating (it was up the steepest hill anyway, so it’s not like I would have run it), and that he would carry my trash when I was done. So, it was settled, haha. He also carried other random stuff of mine, mostly trash, including some ridiculously sticky gel packets that I didn’t want to give him but he insisted. At one point, I think it was with the gel packets, I commented that he wasn’t my slave, and he said, “But I AM your pacer. Give them to me.” Okay! Dave’s super humble and I had to pry info about his own races out of him (but it was totally worth it!). 🙂
As it started to get dark, more traffic started appearing on the road. Evidently, on a dirt road that branched off from the road our course was on, there was a “420” rave party taking place. This meant there were vehicles speeding down the road driven by people who had no regard for runners on the road. Dave warned me of cars coming, and on a few occasions, he ran in front to signal to drivers that we were there; the first time he did this, I asked, “Why are you running away from me?” and his response was, “I’m trying to keep cars from hitting you.” Oh… That’s nice. 🙂 There was a really disorienting point for me when I was walking up the steep hill on a curve at about mile 61 where it had just gotten dark and there were cars coming with their headlights on and a runner coming toward me with their light on. For whatever reason, I was staring at all of the lights and was somehow unsure where I was supposed to go. I think I said, “Whoa,” to which he responded, “It’s okay, just look down and keep moving.” Surprisingly (or not), looking down at the ground re-oriented me, yet I hadn’t thought to do that on my own.
Dave kept me motivated and reminded me to run on sections that were downhill at times I didn’t really care to run. Just running with him made me want to run faster. I mean, he’s Dave James! He cracked me up, though. A lot of people at the race recognized him, and I’m sure they were wondering how/why he was pacing me (I wondered the same thing), but a few didn’t know who he was. The biggest piece of info about him I liked to share was that he’s run a 13:06 100-miler. But every single time he heard me say this, he’d comment, “It was on a flat course, though.” Yeah, because that *so* negates the accomplishment of that ridiculously fast time. 😉 I was also impressed with how encouraging Dave was to all of the other runners. In ultras, I always try to say something to every other runner when I cross paths with them, but Dave was quicker than me doing this almost every time, and you could hear the sincerity in his voice.
Toward the end of the out-and-back with Dave, when I wasn’t running, I was walking briskly. I consider myself to be a pretty fast walker, but to hear Dave say I had one of the walking paces he’s seen made me smile. However, I explained to him that my brisk walking pace was merely a way to compensate for my relatively slow running pace. Dave’s good at predicting paces; at one point while we were walking, he noted that we had to be under a 13-minute/mile pace. Yup—12:3x. I couldn’t help but laugh when he would fall behind a little then jog ahead until I caught up because he had difficulty maintaining my walking pace. 😉 That’s another thing I appreciated about Dave as a pacer: He gave genuine encouragement, but he didn’t give over-exaggerated compliments. And some of his statements I wasn’t sure whether to take as compliments or not, like when he said at one point, “You’re doing great! I didn’t think we’d get this far while it was still light!” Gee, thanks. Haha.
At the end of our segment, Dave apologized for not being able to pace me more, but he had a legitimate reason. He was heading to Europe to begin his racing tour over there a few days later and couldn’t afford to not sleep. He was also still getting over a sickness that caused him to drop out of the Sonoma Lake 50-miler a couple weeks prior. I told him I grateful for the time he did pace me, which was the truth.
I ran into my friend Joel at the start/finish area; he was recording times. It is always nice to see a friendly face; we’d crossed paths a handful of times, most notably at Badwater as he was Karla’s other pacer last year. My elapsed time at mile 66 was 14:41. I was approximately 10 miles ahead of the next female behind me at this point in time.
Before heading back out onto the course, Joel took a photo of Dave and me:
Starting off on my fourth out-and-back, I was sad to not have Dave as company, but because I was in such high spirits at the end of my segment with him, I had zero thoughts of dropping. In this particular race, 66 miles is a MAJOR dropping point because 100-mile entrants can drop and still get credit for a “heavy 100k” and not a DNF. The lead female had actually dropped here, meaning I had moved up to 3rd female overall.
The fourth loop was not pleasant for me. While there were physical factors, I know the root of my problems were mental. It was dark and I was not just alone, but I was lonely. With the sun down, it started to get cold. I put on tights under my running skirt and wore a couple jackets and gloves. The cold made me feel stiff, which made it uncomfortable to run. Even my walking pace slowed. I found myself not only cold and slow-moving but incredibly tired. I was nodding off and waking up only when I walked off of the road into the bushes. Or I found myself on the other side of the narrow road. The tights and knee-high socks I put on were rubbing on the sunburn I hadn’t realized I’d gotten, but I was able to dissociate from this discomfort, even though my calves and the backs of my knees chafed on top of the sunburn by the end.
Another element that was a physical and mental bother to me were the cars speeding by. Without anyone else there, it was solely up to me to watch out for myself. When I stepped off the road to give the cars room, it meant I was walking on the slanted gravel shoulder which caused my feet to slide sideways in my shoes; I got a couple blisters and it banged my feet up pretty well. From a mental perspective, it upset me that the drivers were so careless, and in some cases reckless, swerving TOWARD runners. This bothered me because I knew there was no way I was the first runner they’d seen out there or that they somehow didn’t know there was an event (besides theirs) going on—they just didn’t care. I had multiple close calls with vehicles and I witnessed this with other runners too.
I was in a bad place. It was around mile 80 that the thought of dropping out crossed my mind. It wasn’t a rational thought, but it did seem like a good idea. But there were a few things that prevented that from ever becoming a reality: I was running the race for Liz. I’d also vowed to keep Boston in my mind. Dave had spent over five hours of his day devoted solely to me and my race. And logistically, if I dropped anywhere besides the start/finish area, I’d be stuck in the middle of nowhere, still freezing. So I kept moving. One foot in front of the other. It was depressing to do the math, though, and realize I might still be out there for 10+ more hours. As time went on, I realized I’d let my lead on the 4th female dwindle from ten down to six miles. I felt helpless because I didn’t feel like there was anything I could do to change that, like just speeding up. Once I accepted that I could only control my race and not anyone else’s, I felt a little better.
I was glad to get to the end of my fourth out-and-back. My elapsed time was 22:25. I decided I needed to eat something. There was chili and cornbread, so I sat down to eat it. It actually tasted good and it was warm. I saw my friend Eric W there. He’s had problems and dropped, but he still earned his heavy 100k designation. I’d been concerned about him as I knew he was having issues pretty early on and then I hadn’t seen him on the course in many hours.
After finishing my chili, it was starting to get light and I set out on my final 12 miles, a smaller out-and-back than the other ones but on the same course. I was still curious where the 4th place female was, and I had a new motivation: I wasn’t going to lose 3rd place. I wasn’t running, but I was walking at a decent pace, and I realized I would fight (somehow) to stay in 3rd if I had to. I was relieved to discover when I got to mile 92, the 4th place female was 8 miles behind me, meaning she would need to cover the distance twice as fast as me just to catch up.
The sun reenergized me. I still hurt physically, but mentally, I felt a lot better. At about mile 92 is when the 50k runners started passing me since their race was that morning. I got some weird looks, nice comments, and a few people just wanted to know why I would subject myself to such “torture.” Karla passed me going the other way on the way to her finish; she actually got a PR of 23:3X. I was very happy for her. One of the 50k runners, Chris, is a friend of mine and he slowed down and chatted with me a couple minutes and took some photos. After so many hours of darkness and hardly any interaction with other people, even something as simple as this really lifted my spirits.
I have no idea what this expression is, but this photo makes me laugh. Chris took it.
And Chris also took this photo; I don’t think I look terrible, considering I was at mile 92 and over 24 hours into the race.
As I passed the mid-point drop bag area for the final time, Karla and her son were there and asked if I wanted them to take my bag back to the start/finish area, which I did, so I thanked them and congratulated Karla. I had intended to swap my 20-ounce bottle out for my 12-ounce bottle that I’d left in my bag a lap earlier, but in my haste to get my bag ready to go, I didn’t grab either bottle. I realized this after my bag was gone, but the turn-around was only about a half mile beyond the aid station, and once I got back to that aid station, I only had 5.5 miles left. What I neglected to realize, of course, is that it would take a lot longer than usual to cover that distance.
At mile 95, I saw something that was totally unexpected but made me really happy: Dave was running toward me! He’d woken up at sunrise, opted not to do a race, ran trails for a couple hours, and then just happened to get back on the road right near someone who told me I was back on the course just a little bit. So he decided to keep me company the final five miles. Yay! Of course I quickly realized he would have the opportunity to see me in one of my most “broken” phases (minus the very middle of the night). Lovely…
I hadn’t run in hours at that point. I’d tried is a few times, and it hurt a lot. And my pace was nowhere near what it should have been for that effort level. But Dave told me that I should try to run a bit more and it’d loosen me up. When I first tried, it was super awkward and painful, as I had previously experienced. I looked at my watch and realized I was “running” almost a 14-minute mile. I apologized since this way slower than I had ever run and there was an elite runner next to me trying to run the same pace. I felt quite ridiculous. But he said I was doing fine and that it would get better. Sure enough, it did get better. I only ran a minute or so at a time, but it was a lot better than just walking. And I was shocked to see my running pace finally get to a sub-11 minute… then a sub-10. It was so surreal to me.
As far as being without a water bottle, I got lucky. The additional water stops from the day prior had come to life for the 10k and half marathon runners by the time I got to what should have been the first “abandoned” water site. I really wasn’t that thirsty. But Dave convinced me to drink Heed after I admitted (and remembered, when prompted) that I hadn’t consumed any calories since the chili at mile 88 nearly three hours earlier. After taking a mouthful from one of the cups and tossing the rest, which caused Dave to go back and get me another one to drink, I drank the other cup he gave me in its entirety merely because I didn’t want him to have to go back again.
A funny moment I recall from probably about mile 97. I saw a woman heading out for her final out-and-back (9 miles from the finish), and I said, “Oh good…” to which Dave responded, “What?… Wait… That is your competition you were concerned about for third place?… I think you’re good…” It’s funny to me because even though math told me I had secured my position as 3rd place female a few hours earlier, it wasn’t really until that moment that I really realized that.
Dave told me that there was a beautiful view of the valley from one point that was just a little bit off the course. My first thought was, “Really? I already added enough bonus mileage weaving back and forth across the road and into the bushes in the middle of the night…” But Dave’s excitement over this view made me want to check it out. It was in the last few miles, and indeed, it was a hidden little gem. It was beautiful, and I just stood there looking down below at the course as it wound down to the other end for a minute or two. Dave also pointed out stuff in the distance and showed me where he’d been running earlier in the day. It was definitely worth the few minutes and tenth of a mile or so “detour.” In a very literal way, Dave reminded me that so many things aren’t just about the destination/finish line—they’re about the journey, and there is so much to appreciate along the way, assuming we take the time to pay attention. Dave’s passion for running and life really inspire me.
I told Dave I wanted to run the last .2 miles. And I RAN it. It was mostly uphill, and I somehow managed to do is at a 7:48 average pace. I SO wish I had a photo of the two of us during that moment, but it wasn’t meant to be. I actually sadly don’t have a single photo of us running together.
While I only vaguely recalled it when Dave told me about it after the race, in my final push to the finish line, I was so focused on that that I was totally oblivious to the fact I was running toward a moving vehicle that was pulling onto the course. The chances of me getting hit would have significantly increased had Dave not done what he could to get the vehicle to stop (which it did). It’s a good thing SOMEone had my well-being in mind.
I finished as the 3rd place female (out of 6 female finishers and 8 who started) in a time of 26:26:54. I was about an hour and a half off of my PR, but given the more difficult course and struggles in the miles 66-88, I was okay with it. Out of the 34 runners who started the 100-miler, 25 finished it. Of the nine who dropped, five dropped at mile 66.
Here’s my 3rd female overall award (which will go nicely with my 3rd female overall in the Labor of Love 50-miler last year!) and my buckle.
Dave and me after the race with my finisher buckle. I really like this photo, especially since it shows my semi-crazy socks, even though the shadow of my hat covers most of my face. It’s hard to see, but my socks have hearts since it’s Labor of LOVE plus ladybugs for good luck. I love all of my quirky socks–they make me happy. 🙂
And here’s a similar photo but with my face showing. And in case anyone’s wondering if I’m super pale or if Dave is just really tan, the answer is yes to both, haha.
Here’s a photo of Dave and me in front of the Lovell Canyon sign; I’m holding my buckle and 3rd place award (which was made of out sandstone, I think).
I got to see Deb and her family after the race too. All three of them are awesome. Deb completed a 10k BOTH days and even managed to set a new PR on a difficult course! Rob ran the 50-miler and set a PR, and Matthew ran the half marathon and also set a PR! Additionally, all three of them volunteered at aid stations when they weren’t running. After finishing his 50-miler, Rob manned the far end aid station through the night, which was the coldest place on the whole course–he is awesome. All three of them seemed to be everywhere all of the time; every time Deb drove by me on the course, she had something kind to say. I love this family.
Here’s a photo of Deb and me after our respective races in front of the Lovell Canyon sign. Her determination and positive attitude really inspire me.
After the race, I hung out for a bit with some other people who had already finished and cheered some more people in. It was nice to finally be done and to relax a little bit. I was happy to hear that of the top three male and female overall runners, four of them were people who’d been at dinner the night prior and all of us had been at BLU last month. Mike won overall, Mark was 3rd place male, Karla was 2nd place female, and I was 3rd place female. There were also quite a few 1st place age group awards within our little group; Calico age group awards only go one deep. 🙂
Eventually, Dave and I drove back to the same house we’d eaten dinner at Friday night. It was a super nice house and all runners were invited to come and go as they pleased. I needed a nap and Dave needed to get back to that house to get his stuff, so he drove my car there since I didn’t feel like driving. I took a short nap and then hung out with about a dozen other people who made their way back to the house.
I was so proud of how all of my friends did, not just the people who placed high in the rankings, but everyone. A handful of people managed to get PRs, and everyone did really well. There was only one person who didn’t complete the distance he set out to do, but his performance inspired me. After not being able to keep any food in his stomach for many miles (35?), he was essentially forced to quit at mile 60. But after resting and finally getting nutrition, he went back out to do 6 more miles to get to the “heavy 100k.” My friend Ed the Jester was injured, so he walked the whole 100 miles; he always had something kind to say and greeted people by name and with a ring of the cowbell he carried the entire race. I was so proud of my friend Mitch, who was the last person to get to 88 miles by over 90 minutes, who still had a smile on his face as he headed out for his last 12 miles alone. I was also in awe when I saw Colleen’s massively blistered feet afterward which she had endured in pursuit of her buckle. I love seeing triumphs of the human spirit, and I was able to see so many of these over the weekend.
I later took Dave to the airport so he could catch a flight to visit some family and then start his European racing tour. Very cool. I had arranged another ride for him to the airport, but the person had decided to not leave until the next morning; I knew Dave wanted to get there earlier, so I told him it was no problem to take him. Yet he hesitated because he knew the airport was not on my way home. Right, it would add 30 minutes to my trip… compared to the nearly 7 hours he spent with me on the course. I figured it was the least I could do, haha. I also know he was concerned about me driving, as indicated by the message I got about an hour later checking to ensure I’d made it home safely. 😉
Under the circumstances, I think my race turned out pretty well. I loved getting to spend time with so many friends, not just during the race but before and after it. Having Dave pace me was an incredible experience, and I learned quite a bit about myself in the process too. For example, if he was able to encourage me to run after mile 95, over 25 hours into the race, that means I am physically capable of doing it regardless of whether or not someone else is there with me. There were times when I put in more effort because I didn’t want to let him down which again emphasized I am capable of pushing myself more when I’m on my own. He showed me that I still have room to improve and that I haven’t reached my potential yet.
Dave’s a wonderful person. I’m still really not sure why he cared enough to pace me, but I am so grateful for his kindness throughout the whole weekend, including lugging my drop bags around after the race so I didn’t have to. I told him afterward that I didn’t know how to repay him. Typically, it’s common to repay a pacer by pacing that person in a future race. However, that’s obviously not at all realistic in this situation. His guidance was clear: Pay it forward. THAT is why I love ultrarunning. Likewise, when Eric Clifton opened his home to my husband and he after BLU 100 and I asked him afterward why he was so willing to invite total strangers to his house, he said that over the years, many strangers had opened their homes to him before races and that he still had a lot of paying it forward to do to even break even. I love this. Being surrounded by acts of kindness and generosity like this can’t help but make me want to be a better person and do what I can to help others. I mean, if elite athletes with nothing to gain can go out of their way to help someone way slower who they don’t even know, what else can I do?
One thing I considered not mentioning but will anyway is the fact I was a bit disappointed looking back at the photos from the race because I look so “chubby” in them. I hate it really. However, I decided to share them all, even the ones in which I really don’t like how I look, as there are so many fun memories attached to them, and a lot of them include my friends. I admit I might be too critical of myself in some aspects—I mean, how unfit can I be if I completed 100 miles? But I do know I still have some work to do. While I can’t say I don’t care what I look like entirely, my primary desire to lose a few pounds stems from the fact that I know it’s easier to run when I weigh less—simple physics. 😉
As for what’s next for me, I have another 100-miler in 28 days: Nanny Goat 100 in southern California. It’s on a 1-mile dirt loop at lower elevation. I *will* take a break after this one, for real this time. As it is, I’ve done three 100-milers in 11 weeks—Nanny Goat will mark four in 16 weeks. 😉 I’m going to aim for a PR. Doing it without a coach is a little risky to me, but I got my PR last month solely following guidance from Eric C, so I know it can be done. My biggest hurdle, I think, is finding how to prevent, or at least lessen the effects of, my early morning slump. The logical answer is to get a pacer, but the more realistic/feasible answer is to find the root of the issue and deal with it. And this race should be fun. Many of the people who were at BLU last month and Labor of Love last weekend will be there too. I look forward to my next adventure! 🙂
I’ll close with a photo of the buckle. It’s funny what great lengths people will go to in order to earn one. But it is pretty. 🙂