Racing the Planet: Patagonia (2017) - Our First Race as a Team

After a few weeks, it’s finally time to reflect on Racing the Planet: Patagonia, my first race as part of an (awesome) team. So here goes…

Camp 1 (Pre-race) –

After checking in Saturday morning (gear check, etc), we had a chance to hang out for a bit before heading to the camp. Thus, Ken, Garth and I took the opportunity to have one last beer before heading out. During this time, we attempted to scope out the competition and try and figure out who might struggle during the week. And around maybe 3 pm we hopped on a bus for the long ride to camp. When we finally arrived on the bus, we were informed that we weren’t quite at camp yet; we would need to hop in a raft and paddle across the maybe 200-foot-wide river to get there. When we did get there, the camp was really well situated with great views (a theme that would repeat itself for most of the week). That night before heading to bed early, we hung out for continuing to scope out the competition while having dinner, which consisted of makeshift sandwiches made from the meats, cheeses, and bread we picked up in Bariloche – our last non-freeze-dried meal of the week. We also got to meet our 4 other fellow tent-mates who we would share next week cuddled up with.

Day 1 (Stage 1) –

Despite all the preparation (and all the races Garth, Ken, and I have done together over the last 3 years), one of the first things I realized as we began running on day one (about 30 mins into the race) was that we hadn’t at all discussed our individual nutrition strategies. Seems like an obvious thing, but I guess none of us had really thought about.

Looking back, it obviously didn’t matter in terms of whether we would win, but I still keep thinking about how if it were a close/tough race, the minutes (or even seconds) burned trying to coordinate eating habits could play a major role in winning and losing.  For example, if we eat at different times (every 30 or 45 minutes), we would slow down twice, instead of just once if we all ate at the same times. I think this is something we will need to seriously consider at the much more competitive Salton Sea in April.

In the end, this was something that didn’t really matter in this race. On day one, we went out controlled and comfortable. And even so, by checkpoint 3 (~18 miles), we had already developed a sizable lead and were running way up in the top 20 for the entire field. There was a decent amount of climbing/descending and it was a fun day, we all felt great, and by the end it became pretty apparent to the race organizers that we actually knew what we were doing and were “pretty fast” as they put it. The other thing that became apparent with team racing (as was expected) is that we all run the downs and flats, and climb the ups at different paces typically in races. So while Ken and I might generally go up and down faster than Garth, Garth is very consistent across the board, so he probably feels better than I do on long stretches of flat terrain. Ken is just Ken and he feels great all the time.

I think we pushed it a little harder than Garth had intended/expected for day one, but in after a good 20 minutes with his feet up at the finish, and a quick dip in the nearby icy river, he was feeling good again. The bigger concern was that Ken’s knee was really bothering him for some reason. He couldn’t even squat down for some reason. And so a river ice bath was in order.

The river was also a nice way to do some laundry and have fresh clothes for day 2. That afternoon, as we hung out in the baking sun, I quickly realized that taking my sleeves off early that morning during the run was not the best idea. As the only one of us that stupidly did this, my forearms were a bit fried. Luckily, however, I had the sleeves to wear in the ensuing days.

Day 2 (Stage 2) –

Despite Garth’s endless remarks that “we’re going to take it easier today, go out slow,” we pretty much picked up right where we left of the day before. Going into the day, we actually didn’t really know where we stood in relation to the second place team. So we went out even faster than the day before and maintained it through to the finish. We did push Garth a little harder than he wanted, especially along the final 4 miles of train track running into camp. The day also left Garth with a blister that he was concerned would affect him the rest of the week.

When we crossed the finish, the volunteers were again remarking that they couldn’t believe how fast we were as a team. And by this point, we had opened up an almost 2.5 hour lead. As a result of our lead, we were also subject to an equipment check. For us, no big deal, we had our mandatory equipment checked pretty quickly and avoided any penalties for not having something.

(Side note: This is a good point to introduce one of the main characters of our story: CW. CW was someone we met before the race who would be a focus of discussion throughout the week. CW was nice enough, but definitely seemed concerned with beating us. This person reminded us of another person whose sole purpose was to beat me at Grand2Grand 3 years ago, as they have many similarities. During our equipment check, CW had a pretty big outburst as he/she couldn’t find some mandatory equipment. We all felt pretty bad for the volunteers who were checking. Still, for whatever reason, at the end of it all, no penalties were issued.)

The camp for this day was again in a great location, but as the afternoon wore on, the winds began to pick up (and the temps began to drop), a sign of what we would face in the day(s) ahead.

Day 3 (Stage 3) –

On this day, the winds were mighty. We started with a fully exposed 7 mile run on the same train tracks we finished on yesterday. As we started, we quickly realized it would be 7 miles into a massive headwind. So what do you do when you’re with a team in such situations? A Peloton of course! We ran the bunched together and rotating as leader every 5 minutes or so. It worked really great, but at some point Garth got really angry with a guy that was latching on to us and just riding in the back. I think this anger partly stemmed from a fall Garth had a few minutes earlier that really could have ended his race if it were worse. It was stupid stumble across the tracks, and he did end up on the ground.

In any case, Garth decided to increase the pace to an almost sprint for a good mile. When this happened, of course Ken comes blazing up from the back of our pack and comments “are we going to hold this pace for a while? This is fun!” Eventually we lost the guy and continued on our way.

The whole day was really pretty flat. And so somehow, despite the head winds, we were again running faster than either of the prior two days. And so, the day went pretty well until the last maybe 4 miles after I chugged an Endurox because I was feeling so hungry. After doing so, for some reason I felt like I had a lump in my chest (or almost like someone had punched me in the gut) and attributed it to heartburn.

Now knowing what I would experience the next two days as well (a similar feeling), I don’t think it was heartburn. I’m still not certain, but maybe I pulled or bruised something in my upper abdomen running as hard as we were this (and the prior two days) with a pack. I do know that my pack, which I have now used for 3 stage races, was definitely showing signs of wear at this point, as the shoulder straps were becoming overly stretched causing my front bottles to bang into my sides with every stride.

Luckily, Ken and Garth were there to push me through the final few miles and we made it to the finish, at this point moving all the way up to the top 15 even as individuals. This camp also featured a cold stream just a few 100 feet away which we could use for a soak. As we approached, some guy was even stripped down completely naked taking a bathe. This was too much for me, as the water was absolutely freezing and took my breath away just rinsing my head off. Nonetheless, I did also soak my legs for a bit.

That afternoon, the strain (or whatever) in my upper abdomen was really uncomfortable and made me not even feel like eating. I had to force myself. But by the evening I think I was starting to feel a little better because I was able to eat. Unfortunately, however, this uncomfortableness would be a recurring theme the rest of the week. Any time I ate too much, took a deep breath, or ran too hard with my pack on, I would get a pain in my stomach. Really anything that was over-stretching the muscles in that area.

Ultimately, 3 stages were done, we had a sizable lead, and the next day was shortened to only ~20 miles because some of the previously planned river crossings were chest deep from snow melt. So my thinking was just get through tomorrow, and I would get a good long rest before the long stage. Although it is worth noting that I was really looking forward to stage 4 because it had a lot of climbing and very steep descending; this had been lacking the prior 2 days. Ken and I were especially looking forward to bombing the steep descent, but I am pretty sure Garth would have never allowed it anyway.

Day 4 (Stage 4) –

The theme of the week was again repeated on this morning. Garth says: “today we go slow, take it easy.” Ken replies: “no man, we run based on feel. If we’re feeling good, then we go fast.” Garth says: “that’s not the plan.” And what happens? We go out at the same pace as the prior three days. And again, it was a fast day. Not only that, because of the change in course, they turned it into an out-and-back, so we could see exactly where were stood in relation to all the other runners. By the mid-point (the out), we had already added about 20 minutes on the next team (and this was after only ~9.5 miles).

Generally, I was able to run and keep up with these guys during this stage, but I was definitely beginning to feel more and more uncomfortable in my chest area, as my pack was continuing to bang against me. And we did run all the way through the end of this stage, but honestly, the last mile running downhill was beginning to feel pretty unbearably painful for me. Still, we finished and that and was that. We added more time on the next team, and we had plenty of time to rest before the long stage.

Unfortunately, because of a change in the course that resulted in an out-and-back, we now had to be bused a couple hours to the next camp. With that said, the ride seemed pretty quick and we got to see some good scenery along the way. Once at the next camp, we noticed the temps were starting to drop quite a bit, so we changed into some of our warmer gear and headed to the fire to eat and try to dry out our shoes from the waist-deep river crossing that day. The rest of the day was pretty uneventful, but we did notice the weather in the area was continuing turn for the worse. There was almost no question it would be windy and rainy during the 50 mile stage the next day.

Days 5 (Stage 5) –

Going into this stage, we already had a massive lead. We knew something tragic would have to happen to spoil our chances of winning. Still, it was 50 miles (actually 45 because of the altered course from the prior day), and anything could happen over that distance. It was also a rainy, cold morning, and I wasn’t feeling too great from the start, as my chest wasn’t necessarily hurting yet, but it didn’t feel right either.  Really, the only thing I was looking forward to this day was that we were going to get to climb a good amount (a couple 1000 feet) early on in the stage.  Otherwise, I honestly was ready to be done before we even started. Garth was also not feeling great this morning because his freeze dried meal the night before was really fowl. It smelled terrible and after a couple bites he tossed it. And his replacement meal was good, but was also really spicy. As a result, he spent most of the night back-and-forth to the toilettes. This, in turn, kept me up a lot of the night because he had to step over me to get out of the tent. In sum, while I had been looking most forward to this long stage all week, that morning I was just not feeling it.

Because it was cold, and raining, we started the stage with our jackets on. And because we ran the first few miles on a road, within the first mile I was already hot. So I took my jacket off. This would become a recurring theme throughout the day as each of was take our jackets off because we were hot, then put them back on because we were cold (as well as gloves) – on, off, on, off. 

The road miles went quickly and we soon turned off the road onto single track. This was so welcome, as it was really the first single track we had been on the entire week. As a result, I must have forgot about any discomfort I was feeling because this stretch to the first aid station felt good as I got to open it up a bit on some downhills and cruise the flats, all while chatting away with Ken and Garth. After the first aid station, we started the long ascent. This was also fine for the most part. We were cruising and Garth was regularly telling us to slow down going uphill because he has shorter legs.

All was fine until eventually, as we started to near the top of the mountain, it started to rain and the wind picked up. It was really cold. And so I tried to get us running downhill a bit to stay warm, but that was really where I realized I wasn’t feeling good. My upper abdomen really started to hurt anytime I would try to speed up downhill, presumably from the pack bouncing. Not only that, it would hurt whenever I took a deep breath. And so began some of the worst 20-25ish miles (mostly on boring dirt road, in shitty, cold and rainy weather) I’ve ever had to cover.

It was really terrible, and as the miles went on, it became more and more painful/uncomfortable. Luckily I had Ken and Garth there with me to keep me moving. They both agreed we just needed to finish and were amenable to my turtle pace. The only reprieve I had was for maybe 20 minutes after taking a few Motrin. I actually felt better during that time and was doing some decent running, but it wore off pretty quickly and then I just felt worse.

Even so, are walks were still at a pretty good clip even on the ups, which was made obvious every now and then when Garth would have to run a few strides every 20 or so feet to keep up with Ken and my long strides. As Garth pointed out, I think my fast walking was partly due to the fact that I really didn’t like the fact that people were passing us, especially when going up. What can I say; it makes me competitive even when suffering.

The only good thing about this stretch was that they offered us hot chocolate at one of the aid stations along the way. I couldn’t finish mine, so Ken nabbed my cup before I could hand it to the volunteer.

After what seemed like forever, we finally made it to the finish, the crossing of which proved pretty unexciting for me because I felt like shit and I was cold. We sat down for a few at the finish so Ken could give blood for an electrolyte test he was participating in with the medical staff. This proved futile because they couldn’t get any blood from his finger. After a few minutes we headed for the fire to try and warm up. A few minutes by the fire proved enough and we headed for the tent.

As soon as we were going to the tent, the skies opened up and it started pouring. We ran, barely making it before it got really bad. We quickly changed and hopped into our sleeping bags to warm up. I think at this point we dozed off for at least a little while before finally getting up to have a quick dinner before bed; in my case, this was an apple crisp dessert I had been looking forward to all week, and it didn’t disappoint.

The day was done, thankfully.

Day 6 (Rest Day) –

We woke up pretty early, and although it was cold, the rain had passed and the sun was starting to come out. It turned out to be a gorgeous day in the end. So even though I was really just feeling like shit (my chest wasn’t feeling any better), it was a chill day and the scenery was fantastic. We did some walking around, took some pictures, chatted with others, and really just enjoyed the day. And by the end of it, we were really just all ready to go to bed, get up, run the quick 7 km to the race finish, and head back to the hotel for a shower/food/wine/beer/etc.

To our surprise, before bed, they told us we would be starting extra early the next morning (5 am) because we needed to be coming out of the national park (we were ending at a glacier) before 9 am. This was fine with us because we knew we’d get back to the hotel earlier.

Day 7 (Stage 6) –

We woke up at about 4 am to get ready for the final run and it was really, really cold. As a result, none of us wanted to get out of our sleeping bags and we ultimately all decided we had to run in our long sleeve shirts and tights, which we hadn’t done all week. We wanted to keep the notorious bright orange shirts present for the finish photo, so we put them on over our long sleeves.

I was still really feeling terrible, but I told Ken and Garth I would take 3 Motrin right before we started and hopefully that would numb me enough to run to the finish.

When we finally pulled ourselves out of the tent, we stood around near the fires trying to stay warm until the start (note: I think it’s worth pointing out that the local Argentinian volunteers that prepared the fires and hot water all week were great. They were super energetic, as they would chop wood for what seemed like 24 hours a day. They also played music and danced around. It created a really good atmosphere every morning as we prepared to run).

About 10 minutes before 5 am, I took the 3 Motrin and we lined up at the start. It was obviously still dark, so for the first time of the week, we needed to start off with our headlamps on. Right at the start we took off towards the front and were moving at a good pace. Having taken the Motrin, my body was pretty numb and so I was okay for a little bit. After a few kilometers of moving quick uphill, and starting to breathe a little heavier, however, my chest really started to hurt. But at that point, we only had a few more kilometers to go, so I just tried to hang on. And before we knew it, we were at the finish.

At the finish, the view was great. The race ended at the Black Glacier in the national park, and so it was a great place to get some finish line photos before hoping on the buses back to Bariloche. Ultimately, it was good to be done, and as was our goal, we had locked in our first team race with a win.

Tahoe 200 (or really 208 if you consider the “extra” miles)

Let me start by saying that it takes a pretty significant experience for me to do a “race report.” It's just not something I do for most races, especially since I am doing so many races lately. With that said, my first 200 miler is a good candidate for a recap. So many things happened during this race, and for future reference, it is worth jotting down my ideas while they are still somewhat fresh in my mind. I'm sure I forgot some things, but here goes.

So where to start? Let's start with the after...

I am now just over a week out from the race, and the short of it is that unlike all my other races (50's, 100's, etc.), this race really did a number on me. I did my first workout this morning, and I am still feeling pretty tired, out-of-breathe, and fatigued. I don't have any soreness or injuries, but I am still mentally tired. I am also still waking up in the morning with the feeling of my feet having fallen asleep. I'm used to "numb" toes after a race, but "numb" feet is weird. I know this will all pass, but it's definitely taking longer than normal for me to get back to feeling normal.

The before…

Going into the race, I knew it would be tough. Looking at past times, my goal was 80 hours, with my reach goal being 75 hours and my fall back being to just finish. I intended to sleep at my 62 for about 2-3 hours and then again for about 2-3 hours at about mile 140. I would then push it to the end on about 5-6 hours of sleep. As you’ll see below, as the race progressed, I reassessed, and that plan went totally out the window. Another note is that while I planned to have my own pacers from about 103 to the end, after about mile 62, I honestly did not expect to see many other runners for the rest of the race. This assumption obviously also turned out incorrect, as I ran more than half the race with Ken.

We were also warned about the excessive number of yellow jackets on the trails this year. This turned out to be absolutely correct, and really annoying at times, but luckily I avoided any stings (Ken was stung 3 times – twice right before the race and once during). Moreover, based on conversations with crew from last year’s race, I was prepared for the first 62 miles to be very difficult (this also proved to be 100% accurate).

Finally, looking back, I am really glad I took printouts of the individual course section profiles, and which I discarded after each section, for reference. I hadn’t planned to do this. But in prepping my equipment for the race at Ken’s house the morning before the race, I saw he had done it, and I quickly made my own. These proved really helpful in keeping me focused on what climbs were upcoming when I was totally out of it later in the race.

And now the during…(as you’ll see, I’ve segmented this write-up by course section and aid station)

Miles 0-7 –

The race started at 9 am with a long 7 mile climb to the top of a mountain through the ski resort. Ken and I quickly jumped up to the front and hung out with several other runners during this stretch. Nothing too eventful happened, but we did pass a small lake, chat about the Bigfoot 200 (which took place 4 weeks earlier), and discuss how bad it would hurt coming down that initial climb to the finish after 200 miles. After a quick stop at the aid station (3 minutes), I was back on the trail.

Miles 7-18 –

Knowing that I wouldn’t see crew again until mile 62, I switched to a lager Osprey pack with a 2 liter bladder at the aid station. This was a really good idea because it got pretty hot during this stretch. In addition, this stretch was where the excessive DUST started showing its face.

I can’t quite recall how or when Ken and I separated on this stretch, but we did, and he jumped ahead. A lot of this section was Jeep track, and not surprisingly, I actually passed a lot of large Jeeps that were driving on the trail. This kicked up a ton of dust, and was the beginning of the end for the efficiency of my lungs and nose, and the health of my throat and lips. The dust was maybe 2 inches deep (almost like running in sand), and it just hovered like a constant cloud that we had to run through. It was also extremely dry and hot, which meant I couldn’t even drink enough to soothe my throat. And while the dust would stick around for almost the entire race, I think this and the next section were probably the worst and really set the stage for how my throat and nose would feel over the next 3 days.

The one savior of this section was that we passed a large lake about 1.5 miles from the aid station. I quickly dropped down to the shore with 2 other runners and doused my two buffs, my head, and washed off my face. The water was really cold and it felt amazing. After this quick refresher, I felt fantastic and ran to the next aid station in no time.

Rubicon Aid Station

Coming into it, I was actually planning to eat a bit at this aid station. Unfortunately, the bees were so bad, that I just couldn’t stand there long. Looking back now as I write this, I am now realizing that this decision is what made my trudge during the last 5 miles to the aid station at 30 so difficult. I simply did not eat enough here, especially for a 200 mile race. I filled my water, grabbed some bananas and other random things, and headed out after only 2 minutes. This was not my plan, but like I said, the bees were just swarming and landing all over me. I left this aid station in 19^th place.

Miles 18-30 –

This section started out just fine, but ended as one of the worst stretches of the whole race for me. I was alone for most of it. And that was fine because I was taking it way more conservative than I would in even a 100 mile race. I do remember running around some really large lakes in this section that provided amazing views, but other than that, the only thing that sticks in my mind is how bad my right hamstring was cramping with about 4 miles left in the section. It was a painful slog, but I knew I just needed to make it to the next aid station (where I had a drop bag), eat some real food, and sit down for a couple minutes, and I would be good to go again. A bunch of people passed me during this stretch, but again, I was being overly conservative.

Tells Creek Aid Station

I came into the aid station, sat down, started eating and drinking (Nuun and Gatorade), and within 12 minutes, I felt as good as new. I don’t remember everything I ate, but I do remember grabbing a couple Birthday Cake Oreo Krispy Treats out of my drop bag: they were great. The quick slurry of Endurox also helped.

I left this aid station in 30^th place, but I was feeling great and was now half way to (only 32 miles from) seeing my crew again at 62. And I knew as the race progressed I would slowly start picking people off along the way.

Miles 30-44 –

Heading out of the aid station, I was back to running the flats and downhills at a pretty good pace, and fast hiking the climbs. About halfway through the section, I caught up to a couple Europeans. I talked a lot with the woman (Debbie) from Switzerland. This helped time pass quickly, and we started moving at a pretty good clip. We had a lot to discuss: she had done Grand2Grand the year before I did it and also the Spine, which I asked a bunch of questions about since Garth is getting ready to do it in February. About 3 miles from the checkpoint at 44, it started getting really dark, so we all pulled out our headlamps (Friday night – Night 1). For some reason, Debbie must have stopped or something because all of a sudden it was just me and the other European that finished the last 2 miles together into the checkpoint.

Wright’s Lake Aid Station

It was about 8 pm Friday night (11 hours), and I felt good going into the checkpoint and was excited to get to 62, where I would see Vanessa and Eddy and maybe get some sleep (based on original plan). I stuck around here for 18 minutes. Just enough time to put on my long sleeve shirt because it was already starting to cool off, change the batteries in my headlamp, eat some soup/noodles and a turkey/cheese quesadilla, grab some salt caps from the medical personnel, and re-fill my water. Compared to most people, I was in-and-out pretty quickly. With the people I passed during this section and those still sitting at the aid station, I left this aid station in 22^nd place.

Miles 44-62 –

I left 44 alone, in the dark, and I didn’t see anyone else for the entire section. So it was a good time to put some 90’s rap on sing out loud. Like I said, I felt good and had no problem running. I also had no idea how far Ken was ahead of me, but I did know he planned to stop to sleep for a bit at 62. So I moved a little faster in the hope of catching up at the aid station. The other thing that helped was that there was a pretty long stretch (maybe 4 miles) of downhill road running somewhere in the middle of this (the only road section on the entire course). I was able to cruise through this section a really good clip; I think I was running in the 7:30 to 8 minute per mile range.

As it got later into the night, it did start to get pretty cold, but honestly, as I’ve said before, my long sleeve WAA shirt is a total game changer for temperature regulation. Throughout the entire race, even when the temps dropped into the high 30’s, I never needed more than that shirt while I was out on the course, no matter how slow I was moving.

The other thing I did during this alone time (for the first time during the race) was to start running time calculations through my mind. It was still really early in the race, but I also knew that I was almost a 1/3 of the way done when I hit the next aid station. And at some point during these calculations, I somehow had the realization that if I really committed to it, I could probably pretty easily finish in less than 75 hours (my reach goal at the beginning of the race). However, it was going to require less sleep than I had originally planned for and lack of sleep would ultimately become the real battle by the end.  Ultimately, I decided that I was only going to get 20 minutes of sleep at 62, I would sleep another 20-30 minutes at 103, and then 2 other short naps somewhere between 103 and the end.

When I finally snapped out of this trance of calculations, I started wondering about the last time I actually saw a flag. In an abundance of caution, I pulled out my phone and checked my GPS location to make sure I was still on the course. In doing so, I realized I had a perfect phone signal, so as I jogged along, I quickly called Vanessa to let her know I would be to the aid station in about 2.5 miles and tell her of my new plan for working on limited sleep through the race. She also said that Ken had not yet come into the aid station, so I knew he wasn’t too far ahead.

As I came up the road to the aid station, some aid worker was meeting people and walking/chatting with them the final quarter mile up the hill to the indoor lodge. As we chatted, he told me that most people coming in were really beaten down and that I looked like I was in the best mood/spirit of anyone. What can I say? I felt great and was in a chatty mood. I also have a tendency to liven up when I come into aid stations, no matter how shitty I feel.

Sierra at Tahoe Aid Station

This was going to be a sleep station. I entered the lodge and sat down next to Ken who had come in just a little earlier. The first thing I did was clean some of the dirt off my legs, change my socks, and put on comfortable sweatpants/shirt to lay down in. In the meantime, Vanessa and Eddy started bringing me a steady stream of food: a burger, bacon, Endurox, soup/noodles, a quesadilla, and Ken/Allison gave me a flavored Pellegrino, which was amazing.

After eating and cleaning up, I headed right up to the air mattresses they had set up to try to get 20 minutes of sleep (Vanessa was going to wake me up).  I lied down, put my legs up on a chair, and tried to close my eyes. Nothing happened, and after about 5 minutes, Ken came up and laid down in one of the beds. I continued to lie there, but could not fall asleep. Next thing I knew, Vanessa walked up looking for me, and I just popped up on my own and said that sleep was not going to happen at this point. So I changed shoes, grabbed a couple last minute snacks, put my gloves on because it was now 3 am and entering the coldest part of the night, and headed out on the shortest section of the course.  I ended up spending 1 hour 17 minutes at this aid station, and I left in 20^th place. I would later find out that Ken got 1 hour of good sleep here; lucky him.

Miles 62-70 –

As I headed out, I was really surprised by how refreshed I felt from just lying down for a few minutes. I’m not sure if it was, but a good portion of this section felt like it was downhill. I was running comfortably, and in what felt like very short period, I was already at the next aid station.

House Wife Hill Aid Station

When I showed up at the aid station, I found Vanessa sleeping in the car, as I got there quicker than she anticipated. This aid station was outside and the temps were really starting to drop, so I covered myself with a blanket and ate some soup quickly. I then grabbed a gel, loaded up on water, and prepared for the two massive climbs to come in the next two sections. I only spent 18 minutes at this aid station, and I left in 15^th place, as I had blown past a few people in this section.

Miles 70-88 –

As I headed out into early Saturday morning, it was really pretty brisk, especially with the wind picking up as I began climbing the mountain. Still, I knew it would be light very soon, and I just pushed a little harder to try and warm up: it worked. About half way up the mountain I changed back into my short sleeve shirt because I was getting hot.

Again, I spent most of this section alone. But there were some really good view while climbing that kept me occupied. In my mind, there were three tough things during this section: (1) Right at daybreak, we had to cross a very large (.5 mile) wide open meadow. It provided some pretty good views of the surrounding mountains, but it was really cold, and I had already changed into my short sleeve shirt. I made sure to pick up the running pace a bit to get across as quickly as possible. (2) There was about a 5 mile climb before descending into the aid station that gradually got steeper. The first part of the climb was fine, but as it started to warm up and get steeper, my tiredness caught up with me a bit, and I had to slow down for a mile or so.

(3) But the worst part of this section wasn’t the climbing; it was the 1 mile descent from the main trail into the aid station at the end. Going down, I knew I would have to just come right back up after leaving the aid station. And it seemed to go wayyy down.

Armstrong Pass Aid Station

Finally, I made it to the Armstrong Pass aid station where I was greeted by Vanessa, James, and Juanita. It was great to start seeing more of my crew, and I knew that from here to the end, I would start seeing more and more of them as they began to arrive in Tahoe. I also knew that I only needed to do one more section before my pacers would start joining me.

At the aid station, Vanessa started going a little crazy in bringing me food. I have no idea how much I ate, but it was a lot. And it was a whole variety of things (fruit, chocolate, bacon, noodles, Endurox, Oreos, pancakes with syrup, eggs, and probably some other stuff). This was also the point when I started to notice the bad cough and sore throat I was getting from all the dust. This was also probably the last aid station I was able to eat mandarins (one of my favs during races), as the citrus began to burn too much after this.

While I was eating, it was great, but it probably was a little too much. As soon as I stood up to leave, I felt really full. Nonetheless, I started moving.  I spent 23 minutes at this aid station, and I left in 15^th place.

Miles 88-103 –

About ½ mile back up the hill to the main trail, I passed Ken who was coming down into the aid station. As he passed me, I started feeling really sick from all the food and I bent over thinking I was going to barf. I didn’t, but I definitely was feeing crappy and wondering how I was going to continue making the climb to what was the highest point on the 205 mile course.

I moved slower than I would have liked, but I kept going and eventually started feeling better. Surprisingly, I even passed someone on the way up. As I finally peaked over the mountain, the views were awesome. I couldn’t see the lake from that viewpoint, but I could see miles and miles of Nevada countryside. I then began the long descent to mile 103.

As bad as the climb was, I think a lot of people might say that the descent/flat on the way down was worse. It was midday, and it was starting to get hot. Moreover, the mountainside we were going down was totally exposed to the baking sun, with little shade for relief. There was some serious carnage on that section. I passed a few more people, some of whom were really hurting and simply sitting or lying down in the shade provided by a couple randomly placed trees on the trail. One guy yelled out “it must be 95 degrees out here,” as he staggered along with his shirt off.

I have no idea how hot it was, but I do know that I like the heat. So this section didn’t faze me too much. I just kept running along and thinking how happy I was to have done so many miserable training sessions in blazing sun with Brady when it was over 100 degrees in DC. This was nothing compared to how I felt during those sessions.

As I was finally descending into the ski resort (about ¼ mile out), Ken came jogging up behind me. I slowed down, and we ran in together. At that time, little did I know we would end up spending pretty much the rest of the race together. At this point, my Mom, Uncle, David, Meli, and Stefan had also shown up and where there to cheer me on and help out.

Heavenly Aid Station

At the aid station, Ken and I went our own ways. Ken wasn’t going to sleep, but I wanted to try and sleep for 20 minutes. So I handed off my pack for them to fill my water and get everything ready for the next section (change headlamp batteries, restock my food, get my clothes ready, etc.), which would be one of the two long 20 mile sections going into Saturday night. I then hopped in the back of James and Juanita’s van, which had an air mattress, pillows, blankets, etc.: it was a great setup. Again, however, I laid there trying to fall asleep, but nothing happened. I think I might have dosed of for literally 30 seconds. Finally, I just sat up and figured it was time to get going again.

I changed my socks again, ate some food, got all my gear together, and it was starting to get chilly so I changed into my long sleeve. I then asked if Ken had already left. He hadn’t. And because James was going to pace me on the next section, the three of us left together. 

Before leaving, we snapped the one full crew shot we could get during the race.

I spent 52 minutes at this aid station, and I left in 10^th place with Ken.

Miles 103-123 –

The first few miles of this section felt great, and James, Ken, and I moved along pretty quickly. Somehow, the decision was made that I would lead the pack and set the pace. And so, I started off running whenever I could. James also informed us that he had promised everyone he would get both ken and me successfully through the section. Subconsciously, this probably pushed me a little harder, as I didn’t want to slow Ken down if he wanted to go faster (although I’m not too sure he did). James definitely kept us occupied with conversation through this whole section. It was long, but he helped it pass as we talked about all kinds of stuff.

As we moved into Saturday night (night 2), the darkness definitely started wearing on Ken and I. On a couple occasions, I think both of us started wavering off the trail from tiredness. In those instances, we would just stop for a couple minutes to collect ourselves on a fallen log or rock. The last 5 miles of this section were probably the second worst for me of the race (the worst being the last 5 miles of the next 20 miles section, discussed below). It really did seem to go on forever, and finally, we both committed sleeping for 25-30 minutes at the next aid station.

Somewhere, with about 3 miles to the aid station, a runner came cruising past us looking really good. It was a guy Ken and I had been running with back in the first 7 miles that started off running the race in Vibram Five Fingers shoes. He had since switched to some other shoes and explained that it now felt like he was running on clouds. Whatever it was, he was definitely looking better than us at that point.

When we were finally about 1.5 miles from the aid station, James ran ahead to have our crew start prepping for us. Ken and I agreed to stay together.

Spooner Summit Aid Station

As we rolled into the aid station, I immediately headed for the van bed and Ken headed for the car. This time I closed my eyes and immediately fell asleep.

I woke to a bunch of people tapping on the windows of the van. I yelled to them to open the door because I was good to wake up. After yelling a couple times (and them apparently not being able to hear me despite me yelling in what I thought was a quit loud voice), I realized that my throat was totally f%#&’ed, and I couldn’t breathe through my nose at all. They finally opened the door and informed me that they all made the executive decision to let both Ken and I sleep for an hour, instead of the 30 minutes we had planned. And I was glad because I actually felt a lot better.

However, as I sat in the back of the van trying to eat and get ready to head back out, I started shivering uncontrollably from the cold. Covering up wasn’t working, so I hopped into the front seat of the car, and my uncle started blasting the heat, which felt great. I proceeded to eat a variety of things (definitely bacon, soup, a burger, and Endurox, again), change into my compression pants to stay warm, and mentally prep for the next section. I also blew my nose for the first time and realized I had an unlimited supply of dirt in my lungs and nose. And my throat was killing me, and I had developed a terrible cough.  Luckily right before leaving, my uncle gave me a handful of cough drops, which proved to be really helpful with my sore throat throughout the remainder of the race.

Right before heading out, my mom and uncle also enticed me by asking what I wanted them to pick up for me at Starbucks for when I arrived at the next aid station. But for the life of me, I couldn’t remember the name of my new go to drink (a Café Misto). I struggled with it for a minute and then just gave up after realizing I was too out of it to even really care.

As I headed out with David for the next section, everyone told me that Ken had started up the mountain already because he was getting too cold and had to start moving. I spent 1 hour 42 minutes at this aid station (the longest at any aid station), and I left in 10^th place.

Miles 123-140 –

The hour of sleep really helped. I was feeling super fresh, and knew that David and I would be able to catch Ken at some point during this section. Sure enough, after about 5 or 6 miles, we caught up. We also passed some other runner along the way.

Unfortunately for David, and me, we covered this section of the course in the middle of the night (Sunday morning). The views of the lake would have been fantastic, as we ran along the ridge running up the east side of the lake. But as David pointed out, that would have required us to reach this section several hours later, which wouldn’t necessarily have been desirable.

In addition, David said he actually liked the opportunity to run in the middle of the night; the stars were pretty amazing. We stopped a couple times and just turned off our headlamps to look up. We could also see the bright lights of Reno in the distance, which made for a cool experience. Who knows, it might have even convinced David to do another running/camping adventure with me sometime in the future! Moreover, Ken had previously run this section, so he filled us in on everything we were missing.

At some point, we passed a really nice out-house where Ken stopped for a few minutes. David and I kept moving, but Ken would catch back up after a couple miles.

As the Sunday morning sun arrived, the three of us descended the mountain into tunnel creek on a fire road. As a final twist, however, the course turned off the fire road and descended almost straight down, cutting off a large section of road, before rejoining the road. Talk about a quad-buster; it was impossible to not just run down it. Luckily, it was soft dirt, and it only lasted maybe 300 meters. But being that it was the steepest thing we had descended in the last 2 days, we weren’t really prepared for it. Eventually we hooked back up with the road and headed into the aid station.

Tunnel Creek Aid Station

As we came in, we were immediately greeted by Alison and the dogs just before the aid station. Everyone else was waiting for us down another small hill where Ken and I ultimately sat down to eat and hydrate. It didn’t feel like we were at this aid station very long, but the timer says we spent 50 minutes at this aid station. I have some pictures, but it was all kind of a blur. 

The things I remember: eating soup with bacon strips in it (made it easier to get down my sore throat), Vanessa preparing to pace us on the next section, Ken taking off his shoes to address an odd blister on the side of his heal (and him giving props to Garth for teaching him the proper way to treat blisters), and me putting draping a towel and jacket over me to stay warm while I waited for Ken to finish up. Other than that I have no idea what took 50 minutes.

Ultimately, we left tied for 9^th place.

Miles 140-155 –

Looking over the course profile for this next section as we left the aid station, we knew it was going to be really challenging. Essentially, we had about 3 miles of flat (on a bike trail running alongside the road) followed by a climb that looked like it shot up about 1200 feet in a mile or less followed by a couple miles of descent, another long climb over a few miles, and then a long descent into the aid station.

Looking back, mental and physical fatigue aside, I am fairly certain this was the most difficult section of the entire race. Lucky Vanessa; she got to pace us on it!

As expected, the first 3 miles were relaxed. We then turned right into a neighborhood, and started up a really steep road. At this point, we started chatting about how great it was that the “steep” section was on a road. We also wondered how someone could drive up this in this road in the winter. Finally, as we passed houses with “for sale” signs out front, we started wondering how much the houses were going for, and even discussed buying a vacation home (haha). All was well!

…And then, there it was in front of us: the dreaded powerline climb up the mountain. As a side note for those that don’t know, every difficult race I seem to do has a section labeled “powerline trail.” This section, in every race, is always the most absurdly difficult section of the race.

This particular “powerline trail” was really really steep. Without poles, I don’t know how you could make it up without a struggle. With that said, this one looked to be only about ¼ mile long. The shortness of it was a relief, but was also misplaced because I should have recalled my review of the course profile, which said this section would actually be 1 mile or more.  And as we peaked over this first section, we could see that after about 300 feet of flat terrain, the mountain continued to climb up at the same degree of vertical forever.

We chugged along with Ken leading the way, me in the middle, and Vanessa following us. I obviously had a lot of miles already behind me, but in any case, this climb was really hard. I don’t know the exact grade, but it had to be somewhere between 20-30%.  I do know that some points, I would actually slide backwards if I didn’t dig my poles in. And at some point, Vanessa got a calf cramp, but she powered through it to the top.

Once we finally peaked, we all sat down for a couple minutes to catch out breathe and take in the view. It was still mid-morning, and I would say this was the best view we had of the lake over the entire 3 days. We then got up and continued up another short, less difficult, climb before starting out long descent.

Because the climb took so long, and took a good deal out of us because it was already getting hot (I couldn’t imagine having to climb this in the heat of the day), we consumed a lot more water than anticipated. As such, we still had about 10 miles left, and we had already gone through half our water. Fortunate for us, as we descended, we crossed a small cold stream where we stopped, dipped our heads/buffs, and drank using out life straws. The water tasted awesome and felt great! We continued on feeling refreshed and ready to go.

The remainder of the descent and the long climb up were pretty uneventful, although we did pass a couple ATVs that kicked up some unwelcome dust and Vanessa and Ken chatted about a variety of things, none of which I actually remember.

As we started the long descent to the aid station, we passed a couple hikers that stopped us for a couple minutes to ask about the race. Vanessa also started asking us what we wanted to eat at the next aid station because she was going to text Meli to ask her to pick something up. I honestly couldn’t think of anything that sounded good at that point.

But then it hit me, the one thing I did have a taste for was a 7-Eleven (or similar) slushy. I also thought that chicken nuggets sounded good for some reason. So Vanessa texted Meli and all I could think about was how much I wanted a slushy. Somewhere in this daze I rolled my ankle (the only time during the race). It hurt pretty badly, but quickly subsided, as I didn’t have enough extra energy to even think about it.

As we approached the aid station, James came running down the trail to meet us. Apparently, the Spot trackers had gotten screwed up and it (incorrectly) showed me like 3 hours behind Ken. He was worried, and was therefore glad to see us show up together.

We continued towards the aid station, and there they were, our highly desired slushies! Meli handed them to us, and Ken must have started downing his because all of a sudden he crouched down…”brain freeze” he yelled out! I took mine a bit slower, and it was amazing.

Brockway Summit Aid Station

At this station, I needed get some food, check my foot because it felt like I had a blister, and put my feet up for a few minutes. I quickly took off my shoes and hopped into a zero gravity cheer. I turned out, I had almost the same blister Ken had on the side of my heal. We tried to get the medical staff to patch it for me, but he was busy. In any case, I had everything I needed to take care of it. So while I ate, I instructed Vanessa and my Uncle how to do it. They cleaned and patched it for me, and before I knew it, we were ready to go again. I got my shoes on, finished my slushy, drank Endurox slurry, and ate a few last minute espresso beans.

I was pretty tired, and honestly could have sat there longer, but Ken and James (who was pacing the next 20 miles) were ready to go. Another runner at the aid station (who had previously done the race) also said to try and finish the next section before dark because the end can be tricky.  As I forced myself up, Stefan reminded me to put sunscreen on, and the aid station played “Eye of the Tiger” for us as we departed.

We spent 42 minutes at this aid station, and I left tied for 9^th place. With 50 miles left, this was also the point when Ken and I agreed we would cross the finish line together.

Miles 155-175 –

I felt like shit to start this section. Ken said he felt good from the slushy. Knowing that we had 20 miles ahead of us, I knew the only way to get over how I was feeling was to push myself a bit. So I started running as I led the three of us. It felt bad at first, but before I knew it, the slushy and espresso beans must have kicked in because we ended up running at a pretty good clip for 2 to 3 miles. We eventually caught up to another runner, but his pacer was really pushing him to stay ahead of us. I just said to let him go and we would catch him later. Based on how far ahead of him his pacer was running, I knew he would never maintain it for another 50 miles.

We continued on with a variety of climbs and descents, slowly chipping away at the 20 mile section. We got in a few quick downhill runs, where James would run ahead and scope out the trail. This was good because it pushed Ken and me. I also mentioned to Ken at some point that it was very possible for us to finish this thing in under 72 hours if we pushed ourselves.

With about 6 miles left, we started a long descent into the aid station. Ken had run this section previously and said it was somewhat technical. So we tried to mentally prepare for it. Mentally, this was the longest/toughest 6 miles I experienced. It also started to get dark, and the miles just would not tick by fast enough. Ken tried giving me some chocolate espresso beans, but they were store bought, and so they only had like one espresso bean in a ball of chocolate. They did nothing for us.

It seemed to take forever. At one point, a runner passed up with his pacer as we sat down for minute. He offered me some caffeine pill, but I politely passed on the unknown pill. Ken and I pushed ourselves forward, trying not to fall asleep as we moved. The only thing that kept us strong was knowing that we only had 30 miles left after this. With about 2 miles left, James ran ahead to warn the aid station we were coming. Those 2 miles for Ken and I didn’t get any easier. It was especially difficult because the dust just seemed to hover in the air even without being kicked up. We were essentially walking through cloud and, as a result, we really struggled to get to the bottom. Finally, we popped off the trail onto a parking lot and followed some roads through the city to the aid station. Navigating the roads was very confusing, but luckily Juanita came to meet us and guide us through some stop lights to the aid station. Ken and I agreed we would sleep for 20 minutes before heading out for the last 30 miles.

Tahoe City Aid Station

I think I ate the best at this stop. I put down some chicken nuggets, a brat with cheese, some chicken wings, a little soup, and some French fries. After downing this food, Ken and I wrapped ourselves in blankets, crouched in our camp chairs, put our feet up on another chair, and closed our eyes. The blankets were over our heads and were actually propping our heads up. It couldn’t have been comfortable, but it felt comfortable at the time, and I quickly passed out. Those 20 minutes of sleep was amazing. I couldn’t believe how great I felt after. I sat up and yelled across to Ken to wake up because it was time to go.

After some last minute prep, we both ate some of my homemade chocolate espresso beans. I told Ken that he would notice the difference (compared to the store bought chocolate espresso beans, as mine are mostly beans with a little chocolate to hold them together) in about 10 minutes.

We spent 1 hour 7 minutes at this aid station and left tied for 10^th place.

Miles 175-190 –

Meli joined Ken and I on this section. She was really worried about pacing us because while she is used to hiking, she doesn’t necessarily usually cover that distance (15 in just 4-6 hours). She did great and, by the end, she admitted that 15-20 mile half day hikes are pretty easily achievable. And she kept us occupied with a bunch of different conversations.

Only a few minutes in, Ken quickly realized the ultimate power of homemade chocolate espresso beans. We were both wired. And as such, we cruised through the first 4-5 miles fairly quickly, and would have continued on like that had we not gotten turned around for more than an hour.

It was dark, but we were following the race signs with no issues. There was a sign pointing right, with a flag 10 feet ahead in that direction. We follow the markers and end up in giant meadow (the meadow was extremely cold in the middle of the night by the way). We continue across the meadow past a turnoff the left (no markings) and re-enter the woods. It’s now been about ¼ mile and still no flags since the last one we saw at the turn. Ken says “are we going the right way?” So we stop and Ken checks the GPS map on his phone. Not good: we are way off the GPS coordinate trail.

At this point, we head back across the meadow to double-check the signs. They clearly point to the right, but we’re still concerned because it is totally out of line with his GPS. I then pull out my phone to confirm.  Mine is the same as his. What is going on here? We are way off the map. After crossing the meadow a couple more time to try and figure out where we are trying to go (I note that each time we crossed the meadow, I would move a little faster because it really was about 20 degrees colder in the open), Meli says we should just continue for a while to see if there are more flags ahead. Ken is concerned, however. So we end up going to the middle of the meadow, where that unmarked left turn was, and we follow that for a bit to see if it puts up back on the trail. We get closer, but still not on the right track.

Ken proposes leaving the trail and bushwhacking our way to the red line on his phone (haha). Meli goes off the trail towards the woods to scope it out, and suggests that it is not a good idea (haha). I’m kind of just waiting for someone to make a decision on what to do at this point. I don’t really care (haha). Finally, Meli convinces Ken that we should just follow the trail the original direction we went to see what we find.

In Ken’s defense, the prior 180 miles had been marked very well. It would be odd to not see a flag for more than ¼ mile. Anyway, after wasting about an hour (and about 2.5-3 additional miles), we continue on our original path. After almost ½ mile, we finally see a flag. And so, we wasted a bunch of time, but whatever, we were back on track. It was kind of deflating, however, as we were feeling great before all this happened. Luckily, Meli remained in good spirits and kept us going.

At this point we had one long 4 mile climb to the top of a mountain, and then a 4-5 mile descent to the aid station. At the top it got really windy and cold. We stopped for a brief moment to check out the stars and Ken put on his jacket. We then started our descent.

I should note that throughout this whole section, among other things, a major topic of discussion were the various “things” (hallucinations) Ken would see in the woods among the logs, trees, rocks, etc. On the final descent, this became the focus of conversation, as Ken was seeing all kinds of things. Meli would just laugh at him. The best was the one time we sat down for a second, Ken saw “A PIG-FACED MAN WEARING A TUQUE” as he looked down at the ground (that’s amazing – LOL). Meli walked over to look and laughingly told Ken he was crazy. She saw nothing of the sort. I’m not going to lie, I also saw a lot of stuff during this race; I was hallucinating like crazy at times (haha). But it was really funny that Ken was trying to get confirmation of what he was seeing.

As we continued down, both Ken and I caved and took a couple Motrin because our feet were really starting to hurt as we stepping on rocks. We weren’t feeling great, but we only had 15 miles left after this. After checking the profile for the last section, I told Ken we should just grab some quick food at the aid station and start moving again without too much waiting around. I told him we could rest along the way if we needed to. The first 3-4 miles of the next section were flat, following by a massive climb, a quick dip down, another quick climb, and a 5 mile descent to the finish. Not too long after, we exited the trail to the road and arrived at the aid station.

Rideout Aid Station

This aid station was in a gymnasium, so it was a nice quick reprieve from the cold. We headed in and started eating some random things. As we sat there a couple minutes, James came in and said there were 2 runners sleeping in the corner and that we should get moving to ensure we finished in the top 10. This motivated us, and we quickly finished up and headed out for our final 15 miles.

We spent 20 minutes at this aid station and left tied for 9^th place.

Miles 190-205.5 (Finish) –

The decision was made earlier that day that both James and my uncle would both pace us for the last 15 miles since Ken and I were together. James would lead us and set the pace. My uncle would walk in the back and keep us together. And my uncle studied the course pretty closely to make sure there was no risk of getting lost.

The first 3 miles were on road and went by quickly as we passed some major construction work. We then turned right onto a dirt road, which we followed for a while before continuing up the mountain on the dirt road. Ken quickly stopped to use Porta Potty, and my uncle waited behind, but James and I just slowed down and they quickly caught up.

We went up, and up, and up. As this up started, I told Ken I wasn’t going to be overly aggressive because I needed to save something for the run down if we were going to make a run at 72 hours. He agreed, as the four prior sections started off great and then ended with us limping into the aid station. That wasn’t going to happen here.

And at some point, I told James that if anyone passed us on the way up it was fine, because Ken and I would out-sprint them on the way down the mountain to the finish. I didn’t really think this would happen, or was I necessarily ready to do this, but it felt like something I should say after 198 miles. James also told me that he would run ahead near the finish to let them know we were coming, as he had previously done in the race.

 

And so, James powered his way up, pushed us, and would update us on mileage based on his watch (I started my watch late after leaving the aid station, so I wasn’t positive where we were), as my uncle would run ahead at times and get pictures of Ken and I coming up.

Finally, the dirt road ended on an asphalt road, which continued up some more. At this point, we were really moving up the mountain, the wind was becoming crazy strong, and it was getting really cold. And then the asphalt road turned back onto a dirt trail and headed up even more. During this stretch, the guy we passed at the aid station came running past us at a totally unsustainable pace. Ken commented that he was making the “pass of death.” There was no way we were going that fast right then. We had too far to go yet. Maybe we’ll catch him on the way down.

Finally, we turned out of the woods and approached the peak of the mountain. The wind was unbelievable (maybe 40-50 mph). It just ripped through me and made my body numb from how cold it was. With that said, the view was also unbelievable. We basically had a view over a good chunk of the 199 miles we had just run. We stopped for a quick picture and then finished the ascent. By the time we were at the top, I was in no mood to run. My whole body was completely numb, I couldn’t open my hands because they had frozen in a clasped position around my pole handles, and I really couldn’t feel my legs, as I was still wearing shorts.

And then there was a pause at the very top for 30 seconds…

Me: What time is it Ken?

Ken: 8:02

Me: How far do we have to go James?

James: It’s hard to say. It depends if the people at the last aid station were correct, or if the cited distance is correct. They said it’s less than the cited distance. So I would say it could be anywhere from 3 to 5 miles.

Me: Well, if it’s 5, I don’t know if we can make it in under 72. I can’t feel my legs or hands. I didn’t expect that blast of extreme cold at the top.

-During this whole conversation, Ken and I were folding up our poles-

Ken: I think we can make it.

Me: So we should go for it?

Ken: Yep.

Me: Alright, f@$& it, let's do it…

…And with that, I turned and never saw James or my uncle again until after the finish. I still have no idea how it happened, but I basically went into a dead sprint down the first hill, dancing around rocks, roots, etc., as if it were my first mile of running. Behind me, I might of even surprised Ken as he commented “alright, this is going to be fun!” (As a side note, as much as I like to go out-of-control downhill, Ken is on a whole different level with downhills. He is a beast running downhill).

As we flattened out a bit after that initial downhill, we went over some rolling hills and started doing some regular time and elevation checks to try and figure out how far we had to go. Something wasn’t right. My watch was saying we were still at 8200+ feet (we needed to go down to 6200 near the lake). I thought my watch had gotten screwed up somehow, but then we rounded a turn and saw an arrow pointing up instead of down. This was when we realized we had totally misjudged the second short climb after the dip down. We thought we had already done it. Not so much. And we started climbing again. We also now knew that after this climb (of about ¾ mile) we still had about 4 miles to the finish.

This is also the point in the race where if I were alone, I would have given up on sub-72 hours. But Ken wanted to keep going for it and the plan was to finish together.

He powered up the mountain ahead of me and I followed. It wasn’t easy, that’s for sure. It wasn’t that I was gasping for air in the normal sense, but between the cold air and how tired I was, I felt totally out of breathe and could hardly talk. We climbed, and climbed, and climbed at what felt like a blistering pace and finally hit the top. We could now see down the mountain to where we had to go. It was all downhill from here, and it was about 8:25. We had 35 minutes to go about 4 miles.

We got this he said, and we started running hard again. And we continued running hard for the next 4 miles, totally out-of-control at times. He would pull ahead, and I would sprint to make up ground. I honestly have no idea how I kept my legs underneath me or how I kept up: my legs were just numb. Luckily I was too tired to give it much thought, but if I had wiped out, there is no doubt I would have rolled ¼ mile before slowing down. And with all the turns on the way down, I would have been lucky not roll off a cliff. But we kept going.

After about 2 miles, I said time? Ken: 8:42.

And then we saw someone about ½ mile ahead, whom we were gaining on him really fast. It was the guy that had powered past us on the way up the mountain. As we approached, Ken said let him have his moment of glory crossing the finish. It doesn’t really matter if he finishes ahead of us. With that said, he was going too slow and with about 1 mile left there was no way we could wait for him if we wanted to finish in under 72 hours.

Me: Time?

Ken: 8:49.

And then the guy ahead makes a hard left turn. I think where is he going? The flags continue straight. I yell to Ken, “it’s this way. We can’t wait for him anymore.” Ken continues to follow me, and we leave him behind.

Me: Time?

Ken: 8:52.

Me: My god, how much further is it. I don’t know if we’ll make.

Ken: We got it.

We continue on, and finally, I see the turn we made out of Homewood 3 days early to start the race.

Me: Time?

Ken: 8:57.

We make that turn and have about 1/3 of a mile left. But we can see the finish line now. Ken blazes ahead, and I do everything I can to keep up. He starts counting out the time, “2 minutes.” Then “1 minute.” Then as we round the final turn to the finish: “10 seconds, but that’s just my watch, they could be different.” We grab hands, turn, almost run over a couple dogs in the middle of the path and fall, and kick up a bunch of dirt sprinting the last 50 feet to the finish.

I immediately fall forward, hands on my knees, gasping for air. Somehow, we made it. The official time: 8:59:05, or 71 hours 59 minutes 5 seconds.

I have to hand it to Ken, he hung in there and really pushed me to the end. I am used to being pushed like that in CrossFit workouts, but never at the end of long races. In the end, those last 4 miles really hurt physically and mentally, but it was totally worth it. 

As planned, Ken and I came in together tied for 9^th place. What an awesome experience it was!

We then proceeded to drink champagne, eat a bunch of food, and take the best ice bath ever in the cold lake.

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Finally, I have to say thanks to everyone that came out to help me in this race! Everyone that came out was invaluable to me finishing! Unfortunately, I have no opinion of the actual aid station workers because most of my interaction was with my crew. Nonetheless, the aid stations did seem to be stocked with a ton of great food that my crew was able to provide me.