Western States 100- Dragon's Blood and Butterscotch

Day Before text messages:

Western Freaking States!

OJ- Do you want anything else for tonight?  Fruit? Cookies? Juice?

Me- Not sure maybe something salty.  Not really sure I can eat….

OJ-Ps maybe nobody’s mentioned you’re a total, undeniable bad-ass and you’re going to whoop this race’s ass.

Me- I know. It’s not really like me to be this nervous is it?

As OJ and I sat eating lunch in Squaw Valley she was flipping through the participants guide.  We were both really quite. I was guzzling waters by the liter and thinking about the fact that I just checked in for Western Freaking States! She stopped flipping looked up at me and said " Do you know you could suffer from renal shut down, heat stroke, hyperthermia, or muscle necrosis?"

They actually gave me an arm band, don't tell anyone!

Thanks.

To say that I was freaking out was an understatement I was practically silent, which is never good for me.  I was worried that my training wasn’t adequate.  That I wasn’t hydrated.  That I was going to feel the altitude. That I was going to have renal shutdown, heat stroke, hyperthermia, and muscle necrosis!

Morning of text message:

Me to Craig- i hugged geoff roes!!!!  aaaaaaaaa,
(I guess I was feeling better!)

Ready in 180 seconds flat!

Race morning getting ready took approximately 180 seconds.  I had neatly laid out everything I was going to need the night before, something I never do.  We were out the door and at the start by 4:15a.  I was still pretty worried, but now more because I couldn’t crap, then because I might die.

The start line is not like other races where there is a mass of runners lined by spectators; everyone just clusters together.  So OJ was with me as I was jumping up and down clapping and shouting “Western Freaking States!!!”  

I can't believe its starting!

Let the games begin!  I loved running in the snow in hind-site, I fell 3 times though I never got injured.  Everyone was super excited to be running and the energy during the snow was awesome.  Everyone was whooping and hollering.  Forming human chains to pull fallen people back up to the path (I won't call it a trail).  But the snow is what I think stole my quads from me, that bracing and gripping with each foot strike for so long really tore me up!  

My goal was to always be able to spit and I did really well at it, though I did not dare waste any water by actually spitting.  I filled both my bottles at each aid station regardless of the distance to the next aid station.  If I wasn't finished with them I chugged as much as I could before refilling.  I think this was a good strategy!  My biggest complaint for the entire race was how often I had to pee. Sometimes less than 10 minutes apart, definitely every 20 minutes during the entire (ENTIRE) race that's approximately 80 times in a little over 1 day!!  It sucked.  Luckily as a thru hiker I learned to pee standing up, my pacer had never seen this before and was ubber impressed.   He took his wife to the side at the finish line and the first thing he told her was about my peeing strategy:  "she could pee faster than me!'  I do have to give a shout out to thru hiker Totally Rachel for teaching me this quad saving technique!

Headed up the escarpment, it was super steep

Heading into Miller’s defeat I made a super faux pas.  Though I will start by defend myself here with the lamest excuse, “I didn’t know!”

I had just caught up with E (some names changed to protect the innocent), who was a wiry man trying to speed walk Western States.  We were on an uphill section so I was glad to have someone to speed walk with.  We had a few cordial exchanges: What’s your name? Where are you from?  Is this your first 100? What was your qualifying run?  Normal stuff when you meet another runner for the first time mid race.  Then he was off: “I live in a Dojo with twenty sh*t head 20 year-old's they don’t do anything just lay around and play video games all day I do stuff on the weekends I run 100s I'm amazing I have goals in life they are nobodies I have 7 black belts and they steal my food!”  I think he did breath but definitely no periods.  Yes he said he lives in a Dojo.  Thankfully we crested the hill so I got to run. After getting about 100 yards in front of him I had processed enough of what just happened at me to turn around and yell “good luck E see you later.”    

Together we had been following this other runner X (for now) for quite a while.  He was just far enough in front of me that I would see him before he would go around a corner, but not close enough to really talk to.  So when I yelled bye to E, X heard me and turned around and said what?  I yelled sorry nothing.  We were on a switch back so he could hear me but it took me a minute to catch him.  He stood there waiting for me.  When I came into view he said "What?" again, I was embarrassed for holding up another runner and quickly got him on his way.  He was still a bit in front of me so I could not tell who it was.  Then there was a very sharp Y in the trail, where the course took the less obvious arm.  I immediately started looking for X but didn’t see him and I wasn’t going to go search for him. Its Western States after all.  Who runs backwards at WS?  I could see the other path below me for a quarter mile and was whistling and singing hoping he would hear me.  But just in case he was in front of me I didn't want to yell and make him wait for me again!

There was a really long straight away and I could see a women, June (we bonded over our names), but no X.  I yelled up to her “Hey did you see an older guy with blue shorts and white shirt go by?  June: “You mean Gordy? Gordy Ainsleigh?”  Me: “What? That was Gordy Ainsleigh?”  June:  Yeah he is in front of me!” Me: Good!  Feeling relieved I matched pace with June.  Hesitatingly I said "So where are you from?  What was your qualifying run?"

Notice the placement of Gordy's number!

Rewind to Duncan Canyon aid station: Gordy rolls in wearing his number in a very long rectangle right in the center of his shorts.  Everyone is cheering at him and I yell “Gordy, your number is very…….um alluring.”  He immediately asked me to pose with him for a picture.  So yes I admit we had already met when I was worried he had taken a wrong turn.

Fast forward to Miller’s Defeat aid station, I’m wrapping up my aid station drill when Gordy strolls in.  “What you were behind me?"  Looking around I yell "Where’s June?” Gordy: “Yeah I took a wrong turn and lost about 20 minutes.”  Me: “I knew you went the wrong way but June told me you were in front.”  Um yes I just told a pissed off legend that I let him get lost.  I mumbled something about sorry and left the aid station.

Gordy showed up again in about 20 minutes not nearly as mad and we spent the next 20 or so miles bouncing back and forth chatting.  He gave me some tips on the only acute pain I had, a weird pinched nerve in my non-water bottle shoulder.  He even stopped to show me some exercises for my sprained ankle! And true to form we talked about women!

The canyons were not as hot as I expected I was waiting for the worst to hit when I realized it was 6pm so the heat must be over!  My quads were shot I didn't run down hill again after about mile 43....Last Chance AS. 

My food was crazy, I think maybe I was eating too much.  At one point I filled a to-go baggie with potatoes (my favorite running food), M&M's, and watermelon.  Ugh why did I do that?  I ended up gaggy over this mixture, though I did eat it.  It was horrible. I was semi-nauseous for about 20 miles from it.  I also had a strange craving for butterscotch candies.  I probably went through 25 of them during the race.  

Not being able to run down hill was really killing me time wise.  Luckily, all the McCullough repeats, I mean Franks, really paid off and I could haul on the up hills.  I was getting tired and was super eager to see my crew for the first time, Max and OJ.  When I pulled into Michigan Bluff they were yelling my name before I could see them.  I was ready to cry I was so excited but again I didn’t want to waste the water so I didn’t let myself.  Michigan Bluff is a super long aid station.  I had a lot to do here. I was starving and was craving broth, I was so excited to hear they had veggie broth. I needed to get my night gear on, apply some Vaseline and get pampered by my crew. Plus my pacer Jethro was joining me here.  

I was super duper excited here.  I got this burst of energy that I wish I could have bottled and sipped for the rest of the race.  Just as I was finishing up I hear over the PA: “Next runner is Gordy Ainsleigh." I started jumping up and down and clapping.  I ran back up the road.  I hear Max yell behind me “You’re running the wrong way at Western States?!  Who does that?”  I didn’t care I knew Gordy was having a hard time and wanted to say bye. Plus I felt I needed to make up for not running backwards before!

The excitement of seeing my crew and getting Jethro quickly wore off and next section was my first super slow section.  I just couldn’t run.  I got to Forest Hill and was feeling pretty bummed out about my pace.   I got there 2 hours after Craig did last year, I didn’t recognize the place at all.  Last year there were huge crowds lining the streets into town. This year there was silence.  I entered the aid station and immediately asked the announcers who had won the race.  The announcers at Forest Hill did not know who won the race they were announcing for.  This was super depressing.  Then I get some food and asked where the live video camera was, I wanted to say hi to my mom.  The aid station workers looked at me like I was crazy.  Video camera? there’s no video camera.  Then a volunteer comes over and tells us that we had better think about getting a move on as the aid station cut off was in only 15 minutes.  Ugh this aid station sucks.  Only thing awesome was I got to see Max and OJ again.  OJ was TCOBing and found out the winners for me.  I told Max, "Leave your phones on. I don’t think I can make it much farther." Stepping out of that aid station was kind of rewarding I was now to the point where every step I took was farther than I had ever run before.  

I get a little confused but somewhere in here I started to dabble in the magical arts.  It started with 6 oz of Coke.  Next aid station was 12 oz of Mountain Dew.  Then Peachstone aid station was out of Dragon’s Blood, I mean Mountain Dew.  This was followed by 2.3 miles at about a 40 minute per mile pace.  I arrived at Ford’s bar Aid station with 75 minutes to go 5.0 miles to beat the next cutoff.  I could barely stand up, though sitting down would have been equivalent to race death.  Passing this aid station meant that I got to see the place where Craig proposed to me.  But if I wanted to go any further in the race I was going to have to run better than 15 minute miles in this section.  I was not feeling very encouraged by that statistic 73 miles into the race.  But, and this is a huge BUT, Ford’s bar still had Dragon’s blood.  Jethro promptly handed me a full can of the potion and made me drink it. Then he poured two into my water bottle. And we were off.  My quad’s felt like they had just drank the elixir of life.  It was Magic.  Pure Magic.  I ran faster in this section then I had in the last 50 miles, I even ran downhill.  I made it to Rucky Chucky with 9 minutes to spare.  That’s 13 minute miles, which included a slow walk through the spot where Craig proposed! I wanted to cry when we crossed the river, definitely didn't though.  That section was miraculous.

But the walk up to Green’s gate was slow and we hear near the top: "you have 2 minutes to run 200 yards."  We started sprinting, at the river crossing they told me Green gate did not have a cut off, so we took our time.   I sprinted through and Jethro grabbed some supplies for us.  It was crazy and the can of coke I downed did not help.  The caffeinated magic was no longer working.

Sorry Ladies.

I had 80 minutes to run 5.4 miles to beat the 7am cutoff at ALT.  I don’t want to say I gave up in this section, there has got to be a better phrase for what I was feeling.  I was in awe of myself, I was proud, I was tired, and I felt like the bones were pushing though the bottoms of my feet.  I was done. Jethro was practically prancing in front of me; he was constantly trying to hear the aid station so he could tell me we made it.  I was the last runner on the course at this point, the horse sweeps were following closely behind us.  When 7am rolled around I was really at peace with it all.  I don't feel like I gave up.  I did what I could do until I couldn't do it anymore.  I was excited to see how much I could do and am impressed with myself, sans buckle.  

When 7am arrived it was bitter sweet I cried a little.  I was thinking about how the website was going to get updated soon and Craig, my family and friends were going to see I had dropped.  I touched my cheek to see if my tears were the color of dragon's blood, I could finally afford to waste a little water. (I really did this then shook my head thinking OK your exhausted not crazy!) 

Done!

And Done!

 

      

Done!

   

  

  

  

  

  

  

   

Thanks OJ!