Tahoe Rim Trail 2013

Sunrise at the TRTER - one of my favorite pics from 2011

The Tahoe Rim Trail races keep me coming back every year for many reasons. It’s partly the incredible scenery and challenging terrain, but mostly I would say it’s the awesome people involved. (Okay, yeah, it's also in my backyard.) The runners, the race organizers, the volunteers, the supporters and pacers – it feels like the epitome of ultrarunning family, and there’s no place I’d rather be on this weekend in July.

I signed up for the 50 Mile race this year, and I’ll be honest, my training has been what you might call lackluster. A lack of time combined with a lack of motivation can greatly diminish a girl’s ultra mileage. It’s just been that kind of year, and I’m okay with that. It does take some adjusting of expectations though, and there’s been a lot of that, too.

My primary goal for this race was to run under 11 hours. For the first time in 5 years, I planned to put my name into the hat for Western States, and for the first time in 7 or 8 years, I am without a qualifier. I ran an 11:30 at Squaw Peak, leaving TRT as my last shot for that sub-11. I had it in the back of my mind that if I missed sub-11 here, I might sign up for Firetrails and try to do it there, but at this point, it wasn’t in the plan.

With Jamie and Tina Ure before the start of the 100

Anthony chose to go the pacer route. Smart man!

Chaz gets a good luck hug before the start of his 100 mile adventure!

Race morning at 4:30 AM, and Jamie and I pulled into the parking lot simultaneously from opposite directions. Hardly surprising. We just seem to be in sync that way much of the time. We arrived in plenty of time to see friends in the 100-miler and wish them well before their 5:00 AM start. Several of them were tackling the 100 mile distance for the first time. I always find myself in awe of this choice – like, really? Couldn’t you have picked an easier race for your first 100? – until I remember that I did the same thing. Oh yeah. I guess if you’re going to be crazy, you might as well just embrace it, right?

Jamie and Michaela in the early morning

I lined up with John Trent, and we managed to share most of the early miles on the way to Marlette Lake. I felt a little unsure of my pace, so I tried to hold back a bit, but mostly I just went with the flow.

By the time we reached the first aid station, Hobart at mile 6, I didn’t need to refill water yet, but I was starving! I stuffed two PBJ squares into my mouth and made a quick visit to the port-a-potty. I have to mention this because the port-a-potties at Hobart smelled like cherry Jolly Ranchers. I’m not kidding! They had some kind of amazing air fresheners in there. Whatever they were, Hobart peeps, keep them on the list for next year! 

Climbing up to Marlette Peak. (Photo from 2009)

Morning light from the top of Marlette Peak is one of the most beautiful sights you will ever see. I took it all in with joy before descending into forested, rolling terrain. This section has a mix of climbing and descending on the way to the Tunnel Creek aid station. Later in the race, returning through this same section, a runner told me that he had been running near a group of men behind me during these early miles. Apparently, one runner in the group instructed, “Watch her. When she walks, you walk!” I thought this was super nice of him to tell me – so glad I could help other runners with their pace without even knowing it!

The Tunnel Creek aid station, as many of you know, is a thing of delight. It was a bit overwhelming because I was greeted by so many enthusiastic friends, but who can possibly complain about that! It wasn’t yet hot, but definitely warm enough to ice the bottles, and Jenny Capel took great care of me while I sucked down strawberries and another PBJ.

The next stretch was the 6-mile Red House Loop. A steep descent, some nice, flattish running, and a steep climb. Overall, it felt pretty darn good. I passed my friend Tina here who was attempting her first 100. Remember those crazy people I mentioned earlier? Yeah, she is a tough chick. She looked great!

On the climb back up to Tunnel I was starting to feel the heat, and my shirt was beginning to chaff under my right arm. I won’t go into all of my race day wardrobe woes, but suffice it to say that I have never before raced an ultra in anything but a tank top. So yeah, I ditched the shirt at Tunnel Creek. No more shirts for me on race day!

Between Tunnel Creek and the Bull Wheel aid station (miles 17-20ish)I started to feel some cramping in my legs. This usually only happens when I’m pushing my pace beyond what my training would really allow. I knew the heat was probably also a factor, but I sheepishly admitted to myself that I’d probably been running at the pace that I’d like to maintain, rather than the pace that I could maintain. I dialed my speed back just a notch, popped more salt, and kept drinking.

I’d been heavy on both the salt and the fluids for so early in the morning (maybe 10:00 AM?), but it was definitely the right call. I’d been fighting sloshy stomach already and really wanted my body to absorb that water. I knew I would need it! Normally I don’t take much salt, but I think that’s because I typically have water in one bottle and GuBrew in the other. I just didn’t feel like the sweetness of a sports drink that day, so I was going with plain water. With the extreme heat, that meant extra salt for sure.

After the Bull Wheel aid station, I ran with Roxana Pana. We’d never met before, but we have a number of mutual friends, so it was great to finally make her acquaintance. We ran together for a few miles and shared sympathies on our similar challenges. It was already shaping up to be a tough day!

Dropping into the descent towards Diamond Peak AS, John came up behind me.

“I thought you were ahead of me!” I declared in surprise. It was great to see another friendly face.

“I’m everywhere!” he declared, to both of our amusement.

We ran the long downhill, and I took multiple opportunities to splash my face in the cold waters of the creek. I was already crusted with salt!

My spirits got a boost as I headed into the Diamond Peak aid station which was packed with cheering fans. Betsy and Jenelle were both there to support 100 mile runners, and they immediately jumped up to help me out. It was like having my own crew! Yay! Betsy iced my bottles while I stuffed my face, then she helped me drink a Coke from my UltrAspire cup. Yes, I hadn’t quite figured out how to use the cup myself at that point. It was pretty funny. It required three hands. (I have a full tangent about going cup-free at aid stations, which I think is a super good thing, but I’m going to try to motivate to give it a blog post all its own. Don't hold your breath.) Someone (Maybe Julie, or maybe an aid station volunteer?) offered me an Otter Pop, and I was like, “Yes, yesyesyesYES!!”

Betsy sunscreens me up at Diamond Peak. She was the BEST! (Photo by Jenelle Potvin)

Betsy sprayed me down with sunscreen, I took a quick douse in the hose (hopefully not washing off all my sunscreen) and I was off feeling awesome! Soaking wet, ice in my sports bra, ice in my bottles, and Otter Pop in my hand. Could life be better?

Well, yeah, I did have that damn DP climb to tackle. Ugh.

“So John,” I yelled ahead to John, who was now running with his daughter, Katie, “remember at mile 3 when you said the first half of this climb was runnable?”

I was teasing him, but I really hoped he wasn’t about to break into a run. I would have felt like a total loser.

“Yeah,” he laughed, and that’s about all the commentary we needed. None of us was going to run this at noon in 95 degree heat.

I did the best I could while I watched John and Katie slowly pull away from me. I was fighting small bouts of nausea and knew I just had to maintain whatever pace my body would allow. I actually passed quite a few other runners on this climb, mostly 100 milers I think, who had started at 5:00 AM. It was clear that Diamond Peak was creating massive carnage even at mile 30. I only hoped I would not be part of it!

I passed my friend, Dustin, who was another first time 100 miler. I could tell he was struggling, and I was worried for him.

“Just keep moving. Take it slow,” was all I had to offer. I wished I had something more inspiring to say, but I was barely holding it together myself.

Helen, making the Diamond Peak climb during a June training run.

Near the top of the climb, I could hear someone madly ringing a cowbell and cheering people on. I could make out the words well before I could see him, and I knew exactly who it was.

“You’re awesome!” he declared to someone. “Hey, you in the shade there, time to get moving again!”

I smiled. Passing out the best mojo around, none other than Greg Holmes had hiked ¾ of the way up the nastiest climb on the course in order to support us. It took me forever before I finally reached him and crawled my way by.

At this point, the hill is so step and sandy that progress is achingly slow. Your foot slides back down half a step for every step taken. In the hot sun, the sweat poured off me and I swayed with unsteady balance. While trying to wipe sweat from my eyes, I accidentally wiped a crust of salt from my face directly onto my eyeball. Gaaaahhh! Now I was stumbling and blind. Would this climb ever end?

At least I had the advantage of being familiar with the climb, and thus not fooling myself that I was nearly at the top when, in fact, I had quite a ways to go. Upon finally reaching the summit, I felt massive relief, but otherwise still pretty crappy.

I took it easy along the ridge back toward Tunnel Creek wondering what was in store for me. Eighteen miles wasn’t really far to go, but in my current state, I knew it would take quite a long time. I felt nauseous, dizzy, and exhausted. This could turn out to be a very sad race for me. I wasn’t really upset by the thought; I just recognized the truth of the matter. It felt merely like a curious adventure. Very Alice-in-Wonderland-ish.

I was doing my best to recover when another woman, who I later learned was Molly Knox, came flying by. She looked amazing. How was that possible when I felt so horrible? I didn’t let myself dwell on it too much. I just had to keep moving and stay positive.

And nothing helps a girl’s mental state like seeing all the awesome folks at Tunnel Creek again! I filled up on water and smiles, and as I left the aid station, I looked back to see if Roxana was anywhere behind me. I saw instead a girl with short ponytails with whom I had run a bit in the first half of the race. I allowed this to motivate me in staying focused and improving my pace. I knew I wasn’t in contention for a top finish or anything, but what the heck. Even when I’m feeling crappy, it’s hard to completely squash those competitive instincts, you know?

But as it turned out, I wasn’t feeling so crappy anymore. I was surprised, in fact, to discover that I was feeling quite recovered, and this further lifted my spirits. I passed a few men through this stretch up to Marlette Peak and enjoyed conversation with several of them. One of them was the one who explained how other runners had judged me to be experienced and paced off me through here in the first part of the race. That comment definitely provided a mental boost!

Eventually the ponytails girl did catch me, and I finally found out her name was Ashlee. We ran together, chatting all the way into Hobart, and it was awesome. I love it when a feeling of competitiveness in me so quickly and easily turns into one of camaraderie.

I left the aid station ahead of Ashlee, but she quickly caught me on the way to Snow Valley Peak. I gave her a brief rundown of the terrain remaining to the finish before she left me on the climb. I don’t know if it was helpful information for her, but I have realized that I usually enjoy answering people’s questions and giving advice about this course during the race. It feels like I’m contributing a tiny bit to other people’s races, and I know I always appreciate it when course veterans give me tips at races that are new to me.

As I neared Snow Valley Peak aid station, I began to do the math. From SVP, it was 7 miles to the finish – about 5 ½ to the final aid station at Spooner, and 1.4 from there to the finish.  In order to run sub-11, I really wanted to be at 9:30 on the clock, giving me 90 minutes for the final 7 miles. That would definitely put it in the bag. However, I knew that if I came through at 9:45 at the latest, I probably still had a good shot. I would just have to work for it.

Of course, I came through at 9:50.

So, I redid the math. Seven miles to go – that meant 10 minute pace. Five of those miles are downhill, so that sounded doable, even at the end of a tough 50-miler. However, I’ve been in this place before, and I know exactly how hard it is. In my 2009 race here, I was doing the exact same math trying to go sub-ten. That year however, I had 80 minutes to squeak under the hour mark; this year I had 70. I knew it meant I had to use my downhills better.

“So, Gretchen,” Ashlee, whom I had passed at the aid station, came up behind me, “sub-11 … what do you think? Can we make it?”

I smiled huge, both inside and out. Great minds think alike, right?

“That,” I breathed, “is the only reason I am even still running this fast right now. Otherwise I'd just be jogging it in. I think we have a shot at it, but it won’t be easy.” I went over the math with her that I’d been doing in my head.

“Do you need to pass me?” I offered. She graciously declined, saying she was going to learn from a more experienced runner. I thought this was funny since the only reason I was keeping up with her was because I’d been passing her at aid stations, but I was stoked to have someone to run with.

I kept a close eye on the watch as we closed in on the aid station at Spooner. One thought kept me motivated and running hard: I really didn’t want to run Firetrails this year! I’m sure it’s a great race, and I’d love to do it one day, but my heart just wasn’t in the ultra training right now. In fact, so immense was my desire not to run any more 50s this year that I took the option off the table right there in the last 4 miles of TRT. It was sub-11 here, or not at all!

I watched the minutes tick by on my watch in agony. I informed Ashlee that we really needed to hit Spooner by 10:46, but I knew in my head that if it was 10:47 we should still try to go for it.

When the aid station was finally in sight, my watch said 10:48. Fuck it, I thought. With Ashlee and me working together, we might be able to run 1.4 miles in 12 minutes. The easy math: about 8 minute pace. Not impossible.

“Okay,” I informed Ashlee, who was running in front at this point, “we’re going to run right through this aid station, and we’re really going to have to go for it.”

She didn’t question me at all; she just picked up the pace. So. Freaking. Awesome.

“Turn right here. A hard right!” I yelled to her as we passed the aid station. There wasn’t time to look for turns, and since I knew the course I gave directions when necessary.

We flew around Spooner Lake, and I give Ashlee full credit. I said run hard, and she ran HARD. She kept a pace that most ultrarunners wouldn’t even bother with, and I loved it. I was barely hanging on, and I knew I wouldn’t have been able to do this without her there.  She set the pace, and I tried to do my part by feeding her tidbits of course info. 

I thought about how I had grouped up with some other runners and raced through the last 3 miles of Lake Sonoma last year in an effort to break 9 hours. This was very much the same type of racing experience, and I must confess, it was brilliant. There is just something so awesome about charging hard and pushing for a goal, and it’s even better when done with other runners.

Ashlee was astute enough to yell ahead to other runners so they had plenty of time to get out of the way as we came by, feet flying, arms pumping, breathing hard. We got a lot of cheers of support, and I, running behind Ashlee, had several people tell me “Go get her!” I smiled at this because how could they know that we were actually working together, not competing against each other? Plus, ultrarunning is pretty dull as spectator sports go, so it’s fun for people to see a little bit of racing going on. I totally get that.

As we approached the final straightaway with the finish in sight, my watch said we were just barely going to miss our goal. Damn! Well, nevermind the watch, we had to push it all the way across the line. We’d run through a long, difficult day, and been heatedly focused runners for the last 7 miles. That wasn’t going to change in the last 50 yards, regardless of time.

And guess what? My watch didn’t quite match the race clock, and I finished in 10:59:13 officially, with Ashlee 3 seconds ahead. Yesss!! How glad was I that I had ignored the watch in those final seconds!

The two of us spent quite a while in the finish tent recovering, exchanging hugs and excitement and congratulations, and just feeling generally stoked about the whole day. I told Ashlee that now she must put her name in for Western States, even though she’s never run a 100 before. She was just giddy because this was a one-hour PR for her for 50M. 

It’s funny how you can struggle so much in a race, have such a huge low, and then, because the final few miles were so fun, (and, okay, because we met our goal by the skin of our teeth) you think it was actually the best race ever. It was!

You might think that because I have previously run 9:57 atTRT, I wouldn’t be that excited about 10:59 (aside from the whole WS qualifier thing). But I know there were a lot of factors making this a more challenging day, not the least of which was my mediocre training. Honestly, I could not possibly have been happier with my race, my effort, or the way this played out. It was an incredible experience, and that’s one of the things I love about ultras – every race is different, even ones on the same course. I owe a huge debt of gratitude to Ashlee for tearing up the trail with me, and clearly that was the most rewarding part of my day.

We finally stumbled from the finish tent to the post-race “party zone.” My stomach really wasn’t ready for food, so I drank a few sodas while sitting around sharing race stories with Jamie, John, Ashlee, Helen and some other friends. Jamie and I took advantage of the showers (cold, but when it’s still 87 degrees out, that’s not such a bad thing) because we wouldn’t be going home before the next leg of our adventure.

For many years at TRT, I’ve witnessed John Trent and his family participate in the races and then go up to Tunnel Creek to work the night shift. I’m always kind of torn between racing and volunteering here because they’re both so much fun, so this year Jamie and I decided to follow the Trent family’s lead and do both! Next stop: Tunnel Creek Aid Station!

I finally managed to down half a burrito as we bounced up the bumpy Tunnel Creek Road in Jamie’s 4-Runner. We picked up Joe, who we ran into along the way. He was hiking up to crew for four friends running the hundred. They’d come all the way from New Jersey, and all of them were running without pacers. I was impressed, to say the least. Just a little more ultrarunning awesomeness.

Volunteering at Tunnel Creek was an absolute blast, as expected. I’ll be honest, I was already tired when I arrived and I really just wanted to sit down. But when you see those hundred-mile runners coming in, you realize you’re being a total pansy-ass for wanting to sit. 

Jamie got assigned to the kitchen, and my job was attending to the needs of runners as they arrived – filling hydration packs, fetching food, pouring drinks, finding things in their drop bags, whatever. Not only is this a fun and social job, but it’s totally rewarding, too. These guys and gals were working their butts off in record-breaking heat, and I could attest to the brutal conditions that they had been facing all day already.

Volunteering with Noe (pic is from 2012, but we were both back this year, of course!)

Things started to get pretty quiet by 2 or 3 in the morning in terms of runner traffic. Cots in the medical tent were filling up, and Jill Trent and I tried to perfect the brewing of coffee with a percolator over an open flame. (Jill finally got it mastered.) While the day-shift people got some much-deserved rest (Except for Andy and Joanne, who I don’t think get to sleep all weekend!), Lon, Katie, and Annie had a dance party with a Kelly-Clarkson-Miley-Cyrus soundtrack. Things get weird at TC, boys and girls, but in such a great way.

Volunteering at TC, 2013. Photo by Noe Castanon

The best part about working Tunnel Creek is the progress you get to see. Because runners come through here 6 times in the 100 mile race, you can really monitor how they’re doing. I saw so many people come back to life over the course of the night!

Jamie and I bailed at sunrise because we had been completely worthless for the previous hour. I made it home by 7:00 AM feeling like I had run a hundred miles myself. The whole experience had also felt equally satisfying as running a 100.

I have to give a huge congratulations to all the runners, whether you finished or not. I saw a lot of heart out on that course that weekend. Also, a huge thank you to all of the organizers and volunteers. There’s a reason this race has become so popular, and you all are a big part of it.

As with every other experience at Tahoe Rim Trail, this year did not disappoint. For the last seven years in a row, as a runner, pacer, or volunteer, I have participated in these races in some form. I’m not planning to break that streak any time soon.

Way Too Cool 50K

It has become something of a tradition for me to kick off the racing season at the beautiful, crowded, and fast Way Too Cook 50K. This year was much the same, except that I wasn't racing. I opted to forgo the start of last week's race, and instead spent my day cheering friends and pouring water at the Highway 49 Aid Station. 

It was perhaps even more abundant with inspiration that my years spent there as a runner.

As usual, I greeted many friends in the morning chill. Without exception, everyone wore a smile of pre-race excitement. 
 

Jenelle, Jamie, and Sarah ready for the fast trails of Cool.

Jill and John Trent heading to the start.

After the start, I found a beautiful spot in the trail about a half mile before the first aid station. I planted myself there, took photos, and cheered for the runners. They still looked fresh and smiley.

Women's winner Meghan Arbogast, cruising comfortably in second place at this point.

Angela enjoys the dirt and sunshine of the foothills.

By the time the last runner came through, it was time for me to head to the aid station at Highway 49 to help. This is the last aid station on the course, and I usually think of it as kind of unnecessary when I'm racing. With only 1.4 miles to go in the race, there never seems to be much reason to stop.

It was gratifying, however, to see that many people did not feel that same way. So many runners were grateful for the chance to pause, slam a coke, and grab a gel on their way through. As the day progressed and got warmer, more and more runners needed their bottles filled. Our aid station was open from 11:00 to 4:00, and I spent most of that time filling water bottles and hydration packs.

Not only did this give me a chance to greet every runner, but I got to see all my friends come through. The best part about working this aid station is that when you tell people they only have 1.4 miles left, they are incredibly happy. I received two different declarations of love from runners upon hearing this news. 

Ready for aid station hospitality!

Max King rounds the bend on his way to a new course record.

Without a doubt, a day well spent. Next year I hope to be joining my friends on the starting line, but I am pretty stoked about just being part of the action at Cool this year. I love this race.

The master of good mojo, Greg spreads the love all over the course.

Western States Weekend 2012

This year, I was once again lucky enough to be a part of the magic that is the Western States Endurance Run. After a stint of volunteering in the morning with communications at Robinson Flat, I was excited to be crewing and pacing for my good friend, Jamie.

The aid station crew at Robinson, trying to stay dry before the runners arrive.

 I think the weather took everyone a bit by surprise, and we spent time wrapped in down jackets and rain coats, huddled under the shade structures before things really got rolling.

The radio crew.

Volunteering with my dad at Robinson. We don't look cold, do we?

As the runners came through, they were in a variety of states. Many looked great, but you could tell the cold and wet conditions caused some to suffer.  The predicted 30% chance of showers overnight had let loose with a full-blown, cold spring storm throughout the morning. It's simply not what you prepare yourself for at Western States!

When Jamie came through, it was clear the weather had taken a toll on her. She hates the cold, and she was not happy.

Crewing with Jim at Robinson Flat.

Nonetheless, she showed the true spirit of an ultrarunner. She got what she needed, and headed out, hoping things would get better. When you're fairly miserable at mile 30, it makes 70 miles seem even farther than it normally would. It was tough to see her in such a low spot because she's always been so positive at this race, but it happens to everyone at some point, and I knew she could handle it.

Some hours later, Jim and I were at Michigan Bluff to see how the canyons were treating her.

John Trent, arriving at Michigan Bluff. He looked so great with that smile coming into Michigan, I had no idea the canyons had been rough for him. John is one of the kindest most gracious people you will ever meet, and he achieved his 1000 mile buckle with this sub-24 finish. Way to go, John! 

Jamie, coming into Michigan Bluff at mile 56.

Her resident Western States smile was only half evident, but I could tell by her strong running pace as she came into the aid station that she was much improved from how she'd been feeling at mile 30. Whew!

Going strong at Michigan Bluff.

The next stop was Foresthill which was, as usual, abuzz with activity. Runners everywhere, and friendly, familiar faces. No time for socializing though, as I geared-up to run Jamie from there to Green Gate.

Ready to pace!

Have you ever seen anyone so overdressed to leave Foresthill during daylight? I also had gloves and arm warmers in my pack. After the frigid morning, I was afraid of getting cold! Also, I lost my running shades, so I had to wear a ridiculous pair of sunglasses that were floating around in my car. Sexy, no? They actually worked great.

Coming into Foresthill

Jamie came flying into Foresthill, and I knew it was game-on. The smile was there, but it was also tempered by a look of serious determination. She had come back from a slow start and was now under 24-hour pace. She barely stopped at the aid station long enough for them to weigh her, clearly set on making up for lost time. There would be no messing around now on the way to the finish!

Jamie gets props from Kirk on our way out of Foresthill.

We headed off toward the Middle Fork and I suddenly remembered how much I love this trail. I'd done much less training on it this year, as compared to the previous two years, and it was so much fun to be out there on race day!

Jamie was in good spirits, and we chatted continuously for the first 5 or 6 miles. The pace was solid, and I reveled in the simple joy of being out there with a friend, moving my legs on the trail.

Shortly after the first aid station, she began to pick up the pace even more. I was loving it! Her pace from Foresthill to the river was her fastest of the entire day. I wish I could take some kind of credit for this, but it was all her.

Here she is at Rucky Chucky where they momentarily discussed holding her because her weight was up.

Weighing in at Rucky Chuck

According to the scale she was up 9 lbs from Foresthill, which is a lot for a small person. She and I were both incredulous. There's no way that was accurate! I'd kept tabs on her nutrition and hydration, which were both solid, and she was clearly feeling great. I think her strong state was also apparent to the medical staff, because they decided to let her continue.

And last but not least, the river crossing. This was pretty fun for me because in both of my previous experiences at Western States (pacing Jamie in 2010 and racing in 2011) we crossed in rafts.

The water was about waist deep, and not too cold. There were a ton of people there to help keep you safe, and it was pretty fun.

Right at the end, my camera came out of my pack when I was putting it back on, and I couldn't find it. I didn't have much time to look, as I had to chase Jamie up the hill. I let it go without too much emotion. It's just a camera. A few minutes later however, a volunteer came running up behind me with my camera in hand. Oh thankyouthankyou kind and wonderful volunteer!!! I was stoked.

After the climb out, I handed Jamie off to her second pacer and wished them well. I knew she would continue her strong finish. (She did, running a 23:21!)

I really wanted to head to the finish line myself to see Jamie and other friends cross the line. I wasn't feeling well though, and by the time I got back to my car I was shivering. I knew I needed to get home and sleep, so that's what I did. (The responsible choice is always kind of a drag, isn't it?)

Western States is always fun. This year I was reminded that we should be prepared for any kind of weather at any race. I got further glimpses at the complex logistics of putting this thing on. I thoroughly enjoyed seeing a friend come back from a tough place in her race to run stronger than ever. I bonded with so many other crews, people I just met, during numerous shuttle rides in and out of aid stations. And, I determined that Metallica's S&M is the perfect soundtrack to keep you awake on a 2:00 A.M. drive home.

Western States, I'll see you next year!

Girls on the Run - Sierras

I rose early this morning to discover that the weather gods had furnished the second day of a perfect weekend. It seems summer, at long last, has finally arrived.

I joined a good portion of the North Lake Tahoe community at Truckee River View Sports Park for the twice-yearly Girls on the Run 5K. Today I played the role of volunteer rather than runner, and loved every minute of it.


Girls on the Run is an international non-profit running program for girls in 3rd-8th grades designed to promote healthy living. I first became involved with Girls on the Run back in 2008 when our Sierra chapter opened. I volunteered for a season as a “SoleMate,” which is basically a mentor for one of the girls in the program. I partnered up with an adorable 3rd-grader named Lucy. I attended practices where we had discussions, played games and ran. The girls learn to make healthy choices in life, how to pace themselves in a run, and how to believe in themselves and support each other no matter anyone’s abilities. (Check out this essay on fearlessness, written by 3rd-grader Hannah of the Chicago chapter.) They train for a season, and the program culminates in the big 5K race. The SoleMate runs with her girl throughout the entire 5K so no girl is left running alone, and Lucy and I had a blast together. (Is there anything cuter than a 3rd-grader out there going for it?)

This year my schedule didn’t allow me to attend weekly practices, so I couldn’t be a SoleMate, but I volunteered at today’s 5K so I could still be a part of the team. You’ll never guess what I did. I did hair!

Yes, Goody (you know, the company that makes all those hair bands and stuff?) sponsored a “Happy Hair Station.” I spent the morning brushing, braiding and spraying colored glitter. I have to confess, it was totally awesome. My inner-feminist kind of wants to rankle at the assumption that all little girls want their hair done, but I just couldn’t get irritated about it at all. Everyone was too busy having fun, and I sprayed color in the hair of a few boys and moms, too. (I couldn’t convince any dads, but I guess that’s their problem. They don't know how so many ultrarunning men like to paint their toenails.) Next time I do this event, I am absolutely requesting to work at the Happy Hair Station.

The day is definitely more celebration than race. There is also a bouncy castle (of course!) and face painting. The entire group gathers for a warm-up, and the girls, coaches and SoleMates do a hip-hop dance that they all learned in practices while the music thumps through the speakers.


After the race, there are more hairdo's, a picnic, and an excellent raffle.

If I ever get the chance, I’m definitely signing up as a SoleMate again. But until that time, spending the day at the 5K is a great way to be part of the action and support girls as runners. Congratulations to all the girls!

Miwok 100K

The Other Side of Racing

I know what you're thinking: The other side of racing…what would that be? Answer: Not racing. Duh. But in this case, not only was I not racing, I was actually helping with the race and crewing for a friend. It’s pretty enlightening to see what actually happens in order to pull off one of these ultra things, and I had a great time last weekend being a part of all the behind-the-scenes action at Miwok.

My day began Friday morning (May 2) when the 3 hour drive from Truckee to Marin only took 2 ½ hours. I don’t know what happened to the Friday morning traffic through Sacramento, but I suddenly noticed an excessive number of Prii (pronounced pre-eye, plural for Prius of course) cruising the lanes next to me. This, along with the light coastal moisture in the air, told me I was clearly in the Bay Area, in spite of the early hour. I had planned to meet race director Tia Bodington in Corte Madera at 10 am. I decided to spend the extra time locating the closest Starbucks, and by the time I met Tia, I was well-caffeined and ready to go.

Tia had a giant U-Haul truck rented, and it was absolutely packed with water, coolers, bananas, boxes of food, boxes of GU, bags of GU20, tables, banners, “caution, runners on road” signs, orange cones, flagging and a myriad of other aid station sundries. I wondered how long it had taken her to pack and make the drive from Colorado. I also wondered if people get paid for being an RD, because they seriously should! I thought it might be rude to ask though, so I refrained.

Fellow volunteers Jeff, Hollis, Ken and Fred were there to help as well, and soon we set off towards the aid stations. Fortunately traffic was light on the Scenic Highway, as our little caravan slowly cruised the windy road: a fleet of Prii with license plate frames that read “Western States 100 Mile Endurance Run” led by a loaded U-Haul.

We spent the day cruising up and down the coastal headlands of Marin on a breathtakingly beautiful day. I got a great preview of the course, as Jeff pointed out much of the route while we drove along. At every stop, we lightened Tia’s truck while she consulted one of her many lists and told us how many bananas should go where. We visited Bolinas Ridge (where I noted the distinct lack of parking available,) Pan Toll, Muir Beach and the Start/Finish. Thanks to an incredible amount of work and organizing that Tia had already done, the day went pretty smoothly. I hoped race day would go as well!




At 4:30 I met up with Tate at the Marin Headlands Hostel where she had reserved a room. It was great to see her again! Tate and I had met last year at the TRT 50 miler, and I was excited to be pacing her on her first 100K. She had come down from Bend OR that day with friends Sean Meissner and Prudence L’Heureux who were also running the race. Although I didn’t know Prudence, I had met Sean once several years before at the Tahoe Triple.

After settling into the Hostel and touring the start of the course (which was a very short walk from the hostel,) the four of us went for an early dinner. Sean and Prudence were both fighting colds and everyone was interested in getting to bed early.

The Marin Headlands Hostel

After we all finished the typical night before organizing, I let the racers go to bed while I went down to the living room to socialize. The Marin Hostel is beautiful, with a huge kitchen, dining area and living room. It’s not furnished with your typical moth-eaten hostel furniture and chipped dishware either. The living room is filled with plush comfy couches, large windows and a piano, and you certainly can’t beat the location! I sat around chatting with other runner types, and soaked up the much-needed environment of runners. (I just don’t hang out with many runners here in Truckee.) I met Leslie who had recently run Diablo as her first 50 miler! I listened to tales from Shane, a runner who had helped on the search for the lost Western States runner last month. I also managed to rustle up a ride to the Bolinas Ridge aid station from the wonderful Kayla, who was planning a hike in the area on Saturday. She agreed to give both Shane and me a ride out there so we could pace our runners in and not have to worry about leaving (and retrieving) a car.

The Comfy Livingroom

On race morning my roommates were up at 3:45. I rolled out of bet at 5:20 to jog down the trail and catch the 5:40 start. I couldn’t find Tate, although I did manage to give a quick good luck to Prudence before everyone got on the “starting line.” I tried to take some photos of the beautiful sunrise, but I only had a little disposable camera, so I’ll be shocked if any of my pictures turned out. (I'll post photos later this week if they are any good.) I scanned the crowd and noticed someone I was pretty sure was Mark Tanaka. I was working up my nerve to introduce myself since he was literally surrounded by a who’s-who of ultra running, including Scott Jurek, Hal Koerner, and Bev Anderson-Abs among others, when Tia announced 60 seconds until the start. Hmm, maybe not the best time to run up and start chatting to the runners on the front line.

After seeing everyone off, I jogged back to the hostel and crawled into bed for another 2 ½ hours of sleep. Ah the luxury of being a pacer! Kayla and Shane and I headed off to Bolinas AS at 10:30 and arrived about an hour later. I knew I would have several hours to wait, so I dressed warmly and planned to shove the extra layers into my hydration pack for the run. It was chilly in the shade at Bolinas, and even with the warm layers I still joined a group of other waiting pacers following a patch of sunlight on its migration throughout the day.

Again, I found myself reveling in being surrounded by runners. There were a lot of people hanging around at Bolinas, including pacers, crew, friends, spouses and volunteers. I swapped stories with other runners, and watched the leaders come through on their way back to the finish while Peter-the-Vespa-guy gave us the lowdown on everyone. Sean came through in around 10th place and looking strong. I was excited to see Prudence in 3rd place for women, just 15 minutes behind Bev at that point! The excitement began to build as more and more runners came through. I realized that I was really glad I was running and not just crewing or volunteering. Being at a race and seeing all those amazing runners was so inspiring that I was jumping up and down with the need to run. I hadn’t realized OIga would be there, so I was excited to see her and cheer her on as she ran by. I cheered a few other familiar faces, and I knew Tate would be showing up soon, so I peeled off my extra layers and made sure I was fueled up and ready to run.

Tate re-stocked at the aid station and we headed off. She looked good, but she didn’t sound too confident when I asked how she was. I had never been a pacer before, so I was a little concerned about exactly what my duties were. Tate and I had talked about it a bit at dinner the night before and while she did have some goals as far as time, she didn’t really want to be “pushed” per-say. It seemed my role would be more to support, encourage, entertain and look for course markings. I personally felt that keeping us from getting lost was a major part of my job, so I focused on paying close attention to the flagging.

It was a long stretch in the sun between Bolinas and Pan Toll, and Tate did awesome. I think mentally this must be one of the toughest stretches of the race because you have already run over 40 miles, but the finish isn’t all that close. It was also the heat of the afternoon, and the chill of the Bolinas aid station was a distant memory almost as soon as we left it.

At Pan Toll Tate restocked from her drop bag and we discussed the merits of picking up her headlamp. It was really too far out to tell if we would finish before dark, and since I wasn’t totally sure what time it would be dark, it made calculations difficult. She realized she really didn’t have a great way to carry her headlamp, so finally decided against it. I had a good flashlight in my pack which I could shine for both of us if it came down to it. Decision made, we headed off.

The Coastal Trail looking back towards Stinson

I think it was somewhere through this section where the trail became massively overgrown with poison oak. It was almost funny, but I didn’t complain too much since that area was also nicely shaded. We cruised along and chatted with a runner from Sacramento named Jeff. Tate was having feelings of regret about the absent headlamp, but I think it was just late race anxiety searching for an outlet. When we got to Tennessee Valley, the volunteers assured us that we would finish before dark and I think we both felt a sense of relief.

After Tennessee Valley, Tate seemed to get her late race surge. She began relating her life story (as she put it) during a steady uphill hike. Somehow the miles flew by and Tate’s spirits were high. Clearly we were going to finish, and under 14 hours! Soon we came up behind a woman who I though might be Kathy D’Onofrio (based on Peter-the-Vespa-guy’s description.) Whenever runners hear that I am from Truckee, they invariably ask me if I know Kathy. Okay, of course I know who Kathy is, but I had never met her. (Incidentally, people also ask me if I know Betsy and Paul, and no, I don’t know them either.) The truth is though, I’m dying to meet other runners in my community. So I brazenly introduced myself to Kathy as we ran with her, and she was so nice! She was genuinely excited to hear that I was from Truckee. It wasn’t really an opportunity to trade contact info or anything, but anyway, the next time someone asks if I know Kathy I can proudly answer “Yes!”

Tate was on fire, so I had to leave my conversation with Kathy and sprint to catch up to her. We were nearing the top of the hill now, and we knew soon it would be all downhill. When we saw the beach and the finish line come into view I got pretty excited. We knew it was still a ways down there, but you could hear people cheering and screaming a long ways off. This was Tate’s first 100K, and there is something pretty emotional about a first finish at a given distance. It’s huge really, and as she flew towards the finish line, anyone who knows me will not be surprised to hear that I found myself getting a little teary. Go Tate!

She finished in fine style, and Sean and Prudence were there to offer hugs and congratulations. It was chilly on the beach and I wanted to get into some dry clothes right away, so I grabbed Tate’s and my clothes out of the car and headed off to change. We took care of business by washing off the poison oak, and Tate had a massive blood blister lanced by an extremely kind volunteer. Ouch! Everyone was happy with their day. Sean had run a solid PR for the course in spite of his illness and running 150(!) miles for the week. Prudence also fought illness to finish a strong 3rd and earn a coveted entry into this year’s Western States. Tate had finished her first 100K in an impressive 13:39 and qualified for the Western States lottery. I kind of felt like a wimp, having only run 20 miles that day.

I had a great time hanging out with everyone at dinner and breakfast the next morning before the Bend crew had to head home. A big congratulations to Tate for finishing a challenging race. I had so much fun pacing, and being a part of the action! Also, I have to offer a solid “good job” to Tia for putting on such a great event. Next year I will get online early enough to actually enter myself! (I hope!)

Next up: Silver State 50M. I’m not expecting big things since I haven't really been resting and am fighting a cold. Although the 7-day forecast can never be trusted, it looks like it could be a hot one. See y’all there!