Old Gabes 50k

Results are here

Pictures are here and here

I was writing my Hardrock race report but Tom Hayes, RD of Old Gabes sent out the pictures from Old Gabes 50k in Bozeman and I felt a compulsion to remember. This was a race I ran two weeks before Hardrock and it brought back good memories so I will do a short (yeah right) report. I did this race two years ago after I had dropped from Big Horn 50 for being (what I thought) was undertrained. Nowadays I will run anything because you figure out that you can finish just about any race no matter how trained or untrained you are. But 2 years ago, I was into self punishment so I signed up for Old Gabes with all the climbing and fell in love. My goal was as always, not to poop myself (ongoing) and to beat my time from 2007.

Anyone who knows me knows that I love Bozeman. I am a member of their co-op and have so many friends that I met through races there, so it's great to get back up there. Chris was doing the 25k and his feet were holding together nicely lately, literally. There was no pre-race meeting so we could take our time getting to Bozeman and planned on camping at the start. I love Tom and Liz's races; they are sparsely if ever marked, aid is where you need it, not where you want it and the scenery and folks are spectacular and of course, they don't break the bank which works for this unemployed fool.

Our friend Todd Cedarholm was going to be running the 50k as well so we had a little Jackson representation. We picked up our bags at 5:30am and there was a sweet shirt in there, one of those silky lightwear numbers that I love, score. Threw our crap in the car, pinned on our number and listened to Tom's last minute instructions. It was fairly cold at the start, but Chris was acting like it's a lot colder, must be the leftovers from the frostbite. He's in the green.

We took off, me like a tortoise. I have figured out my m.o. on races. I start every race feeling like I just finished a hard 50 miler. My legs feel dead, I can't catch my breath and I am usually pretty close to last. I love how people hang behind me even though I know they want to go faster and say no to my request for them to go around. Then after the race, they thank me for making them start out really slow. Yeah, no problem...Todd. He was there, hanging behind me but keeping me company because he could just chat away, plenty of air for him.

Old Gabes has about 12000 feet of climbing in this little darling 50k and is a series of two out and backs with big climbs and some steep descents. I mean you got to fit that 12000 feet in somewhere. Upon closer inspection of the profile which is here, I noticed that the number that says GAIN shows 13012 feet which equals a lot of climbing, more than Speedgoat. Tom gleefully told me that Old Gabes was almost exactly 1/3 of Hardrock which was a huge downer because I remembered not being able to walk that well after finishing in 2007 and surely thinking there was no way I could do that two more times, even if simultaneously, the bogeyman was chasing me and there was a Little Debbie Nutty Bar dangling in front of me. Maybe if there was a bigfoot sighting I might go on, but I was doubting that.

Tom and Liz also said that there would be a fun glissade into the Bostwicks, which is a wicked descent off the first climb. Sweet, less downhill to run, I thought. I remembered the first climb to be a good uphill slog but really beautiful. Todd and I are chatting (really I am just nodding my head) and I am heading up a train of people "wanting to go out slow". Liz is usually at the top of the first climb and she can cheer and ring a cow bell like nobodys business. She's a great runner is her own right and we were both mistaken for being over 60 in this years Ultrarunner great performances so we got a laugh out of that. So I get to the top and she warns us not to glissade because the snow is bullet proof. I guess the first few people got to the top, threw themselves over to glissage only to leave some much needed skin on the snow. One more reason to not be in front.

So a bunch of us clam walk down except Todd. Seems that Todd has some hidden talent so while the rest of us were clinging to branches and doing the Leonard Butt Slide (more on that in the Hardrock story), Todd suddenly has the ability to run downhill, very fast on ice. Didn't see him again until the turnaround. So we get past the hairy part and start a nice descent. I commented to another girl that I thought we went straight instead of heading off to the right and up another nasty climb. Thankfully no one listened to me because that was the wrong way that about 4 of the front runners took and ended up with 68k finish.

I had seen an old friend Frank Fumich from the GT races and he and I flip flopped until the turnaround of the first climb. I knew what was waiting at the turnaround, pickles. Tom got me started on pickles and I have to admit, I only eat them in Bozeman at Old Gabes, every other place, they are disgusting. But something about it being hot outside and pickles being so salty just suits me. I even had some pickle juice and was back on my way. Frank passed me some ways up the mellow uphill before the scamble. He was looking strong, training for UTMB.

I knew what awaited me, a down on all fours climb back up to the Bostwicks and it was all it promised to be. I passed a few people on the way up and together we made our way. Thankfully we were able to skirt the snow on the way back up and Liz had that cow bell ringing and Juniper, their dog was barking for someone to throw the stick at the top. I got to the top and refilled my bladder and was off again. I have been fighting ITBS since I started running again this Spring and the downhill was proving to be a challenge. I took it pretty easy and worked on putting my torso forward over my feet and that seems to help.

It was heating up as I made my way down to the start/finish area but I knew that I would head immediately out again. I saw Chris, who did great in the 25k and he helped me refill and get some food in me. He would be crewing at Hardrock so it was good to get some system going. Mainly me telling him what I needed without a lot of please and thank yous in between each request, short and sweet, euro style. He got me on my way and I headed for what was considered the easier half.

In 2007, I had one heck of a black period on this section and it lasted for exactly one hour. I felt okay this year and was alone except for one guy who passed me looking way too fast to be behind me. I found out later that he was one of the leaders who ran an extra 10 miles or so in the Bostwicks. He went by me and then some girl going the wrong way in some sweet bright knee socks showed up and I pointed her to the finish of the 25k. Climbed through an avalanche path that looks sketchier than it is. Those are our friends Ann and Kurt. Then I was alone to climb, one of my favorite things. It's fairly mellow climb (for the course) and it was in the shade, granted hot shade but nevertheless.

So I got my time alone and enjoyed the people coming back my way. The lead guy, looking remarkably fresh (don't they always) came at me pretty quickly into my climb. I also saw Clem who was also doing Hardrock so said a quick hi to him. I was finally done with the climb and enjoyed the long downhill into the canyon. The trail seems popular so I passed a lot of people with their dogs out for a walk the closer I got to the turn around, love the poochers out there. Finally got to the turnaround and made fast work of some coke and pringles and of course, a big fat pickle. I got out of the aid station before some brothers who were mixing their drink concoction but figured they would re-pass me and I might have some company for a while.

Started back up with my hands full of food. I have always been lucky to not have stomach problems on runs and I try to get my money's worth at races too. I finally got the food down and was back at my powerhike. The climb back up didn't seem too bad and I was trying to calculate the mileage once I got to the top but it was fuzzy math. I saw someone ahead with about 4 miles to go and I was hoping I didn't have to pass her. I am not a big fan of passing people at the end of a race. I followed behind her for a while appreciative of the walking breaks but finally caught up to her and asked her if she wanted to finish together saying that we might be able to break 9 hours. She was having knee problems and said to go ahead and she would try to hang with me.

I knew once I got to the avalanche path again, I had about 2 miles to go and when I got to the turn, I had 1.5. I caught up to a guy running at a good pace and we doing the "you go" "no you go". So we decided to go together seeing neither one of use gave a crap about where we finished. His name was Steve and he was RD for the Elkhorn 50 in Helena which has always sounded fun and low keyed, just like Steve. It was nice to have the company and we both increased our pace to get to the finish.

We crossed the bridge and were done. I soaked in the creek for 10 minutes which impressed people but the key is to keep your shoes on. It's your feet that usually make you get out early and you always clean your shoes in the process.

Sat around for a little while cheering in other finishers and drinking beer out of my new silver mug with the caribener. Then it was on to the pizza party. I had run into my friend, Fran and she said we could shower at her house but we ended up at Tom and Liz's place showering (thanks guys!) and then because we were all so hungry, we sat at their table and ate all the snack food we had. Then onto pizza and good schwag. I won some detergent for stinkyware and Chris got a headlamp. I also won my brand new age group, 40-49 so I had the choice of a mug or a trophy and being the guttonous fool I am, I went for the trophy, see below.Granted there were only like 4 girls in the 50k and they were all younger than me, but a win's a win.

We ate about 3 pizzas and had a great time talking with everyone but it was time for bed. We headed over to Fran's purple house on Lamme Street and I got to meet her husband, Kevin who I immediately liked. Fran has a dog walking business and she doesn't use leashes, dogwhisper style. We sat around the kitchen table catching up on things and petting her dog, Bok Choi who has run almost the entire Cascade Crest with her.. We slept in the truck with Miss Sophie who did great on her first ultra race car trip.

So I improved my time from 2007 by 45 minutes so that was good. I felt better the next day and that's good. So now it was 2 weeks to taper for Hardrock and there ain't nothing wrong with that.

2009 Hardrock 100

You know magic when you are in the midst of it.

You just sit still and know that things are going to happen, very good things. You know that are should open your eyes very wide and take in everything that you can. I never stopped to re-live anything I saw or did because I knew everything was going in the very deep recesses of my brain, to be replayed when needed them. When despair hits, I will pull out these memories and they will calm me.Even writing this now, weeks later, I ache to be back there. This place felt familiar in a other worldly way. It was a small mountain town with nice folks and I felt right at home. I camped in my truck in Memorial Park in Silverton and made meals with Allan Holtz the first few nights.

The weather was great and the scenery was unbelievable. We marked course during the day, finding out where to meet and where we were going by cruising down to Charlie Thorn's house on Reese Street. My strides was slow as I walked over there as I tend to slow way down in the week before my races. I met up with my good old friend, Olga, who is so strong and brave. It was great to see her and spend some time catching up on things. You can live through the electronic world for only so long before you have to hike a trail and listen to what's going on in your friends lives. And this was a good time to do it. This was easy living. On Monday, a big group headed up Virginius for a hike/glissade and picture party. It was a great group and we were lucky to get a ride with Jim up to where the aid station would be, 2 miles from the top. Olga, Beat and myself made our way up the steep road towards the pass. This was a snow section that I wanted to see before the race, three pitches with a fixed rope (on race day) on the last pitch.

We were first to arrive and wandered around looking for the right path up.
We waited for the rest of the group (Joe and Joyce Prusaitis, the Coury boys, Charlie Thorn, Larry Hall and Beth Simpson Hall) to point the way and we headed up. I am afraid of most things related to heights and exposure so this was a lesson in butt clenching fear with a smile for me. We headed up and the snow was thankfully soft. I just leaned over on all fours and stayed within about 5 inches of Beat's shoes. I figured if I was that close, there was no way that I could fall backwards to my death. The second pitch wasn't so bad and we made our way to the last pitch. Olga was bravely kicking steps for us and had the three of us go first so we wouldn't get spooked being in a big group. It was obvious that not everyone was afraid of heights as I looked over at the Coury boys and they had sticks, onion skin shoes and were heading straight up on a new line and looked just like Spidermen. Amazing to watch but I had to quickly put my head down or would fall over.

Finally made it to the top which is Kroger's Canteen aid station and literally about a 10 foot flat section that drops precipitously down on both sides. Olga and I scouted the first 100 yards down on the other side because it was straight down and full of loose scree. We did okay scooting on our butt and thought we had a good feel for this section.
Then we head back over and again, Olga leads the way down first so we aren't behind everyone.

I start my glissade without really thinking and it's scary and exciting at the same time to slide down a hellishly steep pitch. We could stop ourselves on the first and second pitch but the last one had me gripped. I was stuck a little ways down. I had to maneuver around a rock outcropping and really had no control. My saviour came in the form of Rob Hacker who was headed up, saw my distress and handed me a pole. My other saviour was Larry Hall who then slide down to me and gave me some pointers and went the rest of the way down with me. Sometimes, being brave means saying you are scared and I was rewarded with these wonderful people helping me and more important, not judging me. That was an eye opener for me and the essence of Hardrock, just nice people wanting everyone to do well. Beth Simpson Hall was at the bottom saying encouraging things and everyone was so supportive in my vulnerable moment. I almost started crying when I got to the bottom and was elated to do the run down.

4th of July was a good day. There was no trail marking and a group of us sat on the back porch of the Avon Hotel, owned by the fabulously mercurial Tommy Burrell and drank beer and watched the fireworks.

Race day got closer and my friends, Julie and Kris got to town. Julie had just finished the Bighorn 100 in great fashion and she would be crewing and Kris would take me from Grouse to Telluride, about 30 miles. My boyfriend, another Chris, would be arriving Wednesday and would pace from Telluride to the finish. I have never had pacers or crew but if there was a time, Hardrock was it.

As I marked the course during that week, I tried to figure out the genius logic to Charlie Thorn's marking. He would hold the metal marker, turn around one way, then the other and finally place one on the trail. Always on the left and I appreciated that rigid commitment to structure because so many times on the trail (or lack thereof) I said, be on the left side of the marker and it helped me find my way. There are no confidence markers at Hardrock. If you are on a road, there's no markers. There might be one where you are going to turn off a perfectly good road onto a cross country portion of the road but that's it. >At first,

I felt this approach to course marking indicated a lack of care for the runners. We were going to be out there for 48 hours and with fatigue, darkness and overall stupidity and I felt that there should be more markers. But upon completion (and not getting lost), I felt that there were just enough. Yes, having pacers helped and being with others who had completed past years helped but knowing there weren't many markers out there kept me focused. Olga let me crash in her room and use the shower, a generous luxury I didn't say no to. We marked other parts of the course over the next few days and I was feeling a bit better about knowing the major turns. Olga, Billy Simpson, Howdy Bob and I run in the last 10 miles and had a great time out there on Monday. Olga and I walked the in and out at Ouray and I felt pretty comfortable with that. Once Larry, Olga's man, got to town, we hit the Ouray hotsprings for some soaking time and then had some mexican.

I didn't study much of the first part of the course as I was hoping that I would be with people during the first 25 or so miles. Kris and Julie got to town on Monday and we tried to go up Handies but got rained out with some lightning and thunder. We ended up eating burritos beside the creek instead. I really didn't need any more mileage on my legs but it's just so hard to pass up these amazing trails. Chris got into town Wednesday and promptly fell asleep after driving two days straight. By Wednesday, I had moved to the Silverton Hostel, run by the gregarious Banjo/Pancho/Francisco, one man, many names. It was nice to bring my stuff inside and be able to spread out to pack my drop bags. Packing these drop bags was no less of an effort than reciting pi in my head to the 48th decimal because you had to try to calculate when you would be at certain aid stations and know what you would need at them, like warm clothes, headlamps and extra batteries.

Knowing that I would be out there two nites, I had to bring most of my warm clothes so I had a stash for Friday nite and one for Saturday nite. I finished packing the drop bags and went to check in for the race. They did a medical check and I picked up a sweet schwag bag with sleeves, performance shirt in girl sizes, socks, gel and other accoutrements. I had this bad lucid dream that I would forget to check in for the race and they would give away my space to one of the frothing at the mouth, hungry waitlisters. These people are a little scary because without even the Promise that they would get to run, they have trained, traveled, packed drop bags and been ready to do on the slim chance that they might get to run. I just don't have that much dedication to anything but I admire and fear them a bit. I was glad to check in and could pooh pooh that bad dream at last.

After checking in and dropping off at least three quarters of the gear I own, we went to eat. I developed two bad habits in Silverton. One being the burritos that some angel makes there and the other was Mother Cluckers. The burritos are works of art, beef brisket with cabbage and chipotle aoli and sausage, green chilis and eggs burritos. If you saw me anytime in Silverton that week, I was either eating those burritos or talking about how I needed to get my hands on more burritos. I went to the grocery store about three times a day to see if they had gotten their delivery. It was bad and when I wasn't consumed with burritos, I was at Mother Cluckers or trying to talk someone into going with me. I went 4 times in 8 days and am still not sick of chicken fingers. So good.

Oh yeah, one more bad habit I picked up. I am back on coffee. I had gone off of coffee last year in an effort similiar to a Gary Busey detox. There was shaking, irritability and intense headaches for about 3 weeks. Then there was merely a very thin existence where, if I talked about coffee or even smell chocolate, I would be hit with more headaches and blurred vision. Finally, I felt like I was past it and tea, while not exciting, was hot. I watched Chris light up his first crackpipe, I mean french press and just smelled it, thinking "that's enough, just the aroma of coffee is satisfying" but oh how we lie to ourselves. The day we ran the last 10 miles of the course, we were all hit with a nasty dehydration/altitude whamer of a headache that only caffeine or a sedative could fix and all the sudden, I'm riding that horse again. Could be worse, I could have a blackberry habit.

Race day is fast approaching, like tomorrow and I feel like I want to start that day, right now, not because I want to get it done but just because of the beauty that awaits us. We had our standard pre-race dinner of grill cheese and tomato soup, always good, can't make you sick. I took a sleeping pill to get to sleep but I usually sleep pretty well before a race. We got up at 4:45, got the all important poop, ate my first of many old lady shakes (generic Ensure) and walked over to start. I didn't have to wait too long in the gym, that place of love and comfort. It's just of gym but there is nothing but support in there; people that want you to do well.

I sat with my friend Todd in the gym and I said, "what I am thinking?" but I pretty much knew what I was thinking. He was pacing AJW and I think it was really the question that Todd was asking himself. He did really well pacing him but Andy dropped him on Virginius but Todd is quick to point out that he came in only about 5 minutes after Andy at Telluride.

So we head outside and Dale Garland, one hell of a sweet RD is standing on the rock and he says that he wants to see all of us back here and has a special message for Leonard, who he definitely wants to see back at the rock. Leonard is a good man, tried 5 times to finish Hardrock and had come up short each time. Mike Dobies is convinced that it's because he carries too much stuff. I'll let you decide. Leonard carries something of a canvas mail sack that he wear across his chest and has what can only be described as a painful looking knot on the shoulder that has to cut into him. Then he has maybe a pack and a fanny pack but maybe just the fanny pack. Then, the best part, he tucks his shirt in then fills his shirt with all kinds of crap - bottles, food, camera, short wave radio, tv/vcr combo, you name it. He runs like I do, not quite convinced that there will actually be aid stations, that it might be a cruel joke. Mike convinced him that he didn't need his cell phone or video recorder which I can only imagine might have looked like this

Leonard was going light and fast for the 09 Hardrock and I think everyone was pulling for him. He's a minor celebrity as the Barkley's Leonard Butt Slide is named after him. I was no stranger from shaking some rocks loose from the nether regions so I was impressed there was a butt slide named after him. Perhaps I could get my name on the Oscar's descent, the Grant Swamp descent or really any Hardrock descent because most of the time, I was not on my feet.

Cunningham Gulch (9.2 miles) 3840 up, 2770 down So we head out, I was behind John DeWalt who I wished a good morning to. I was slow from the beginning, feeling slow and dead legged which is how I always feel at the start of a race. Like I just finished one already. So I hit the first creek crossing and was happy to say hello to a friend that would be with me for the next 45hours and that was wetness. I had trained with my feet wet (thanks Jared and Ty for the advice). Most training runs and races before Hardrock, I would look for a creek and get in it before I started and my feet were better because of it.

We cross Arrastra Creek and saw friend, Nick Coury, who scorched the course last year to became the youngest finisher in 5th place on the other side cheering everyone on. There was a climb and a jeep road but that's all I really remember of the first 7 miles. Really you could say that about the entire course (big climb, jeep road) but I think I was still asleep during the first section. I did remember the first downhill which was about 2 miles of straight downhill switchbacks that I took really easy. I was feeling my typical dead legs and trouble breathing but I knew that it would pass. I got down to Cunningham in about 3:10 which was a little slow but I am not a split person. I quickly got my pack on and ate a little something from my crew and was on my way.

Maggie Gulch (15.3 miles)3160 up, 1700 down The next section also involved, you got it, a big climb. I had hooked up with some guys, Tom from Dillon, CO and Morris from Texas. I love running with guys sometimes because they don't let you complain or maybe I know I am not going to get the same response as I would allaying my pains to women. But we just chatted as we hiked what we had to and ran what we could. Tom was interviewed by a Denver channel at Cunningham aid station and I lamented another opportunity missed for fame. Here's the link to the spot, it's pretty good. So on we went to Maggie Gulch enjoying the amazing scenery. I was climbing well, the legs were feeling better and breathing was clearer.

Pole Creek (19.6 miles) 960 up, 1340 down (covered) Maggie to Pole Creek is a beautiful section and really for me, the only runnable section in the race. It was a cross between Sound of Music without the creepy Nazi vibe and Zippity Do Da without the need to take acid. It was just beautiful. We passed field of Wild Irises, hot pink Indian Paintbrush and tons of Columbine and did I say that I was able to run some? It felt pretty good to trot along in the last of the morning coolness with other runners, Tom and Morris. Alas, the amazing section didn't last, it was only 4.3 miles and we came into Pole Creek aid station. Lots of nice folks in this out of the way aid station so we ate and talked and left.

Sherman (28.7 miles) (1390 up, 3210 down)(covered) Sherman was another drop bag station and I heard it had some good food so I was excited to get there. The up wasn't so bad, beautiful flower filled single track beside the creek. The climbs are my friend. The downhill is that bitch that lives down the street and talks bad about me. She is not my friend, but I act like she is so she won't be meaner. I used to be able to run downhills so free and fast like a gazelle. Now, I am relegated to a fearful lumbering pace similiar in style to Snuffaluffagus running downhill. It's not pretty and it's usually filled with some profanity laced descriptions as well, not for the kids.

We ran down into Sherman, I was with Morris at the time. He looks like Tommy Lee Jones and talks like him too. Needless to say, I asked a lot of open ended questions. Tom had fell back fixing something and I knew he would be back. We get into Sherman and it's starting to heat up as it's around 3:30-4. Morris and I decide we will spend about 5-10 minutes at the station and then head out together if we can. Big section next - 13.4 miles up and over Handies, the high point on the course at 14000+.

I wasn't that hungry even though for the past 1/4 mile before the aid station, there were signs on the trail telling us what food the station offered like a moving menu. As soon as I got into Sherman, I was accosted by the nicest aid station couple that completely and immediately overwhelmed me with their questions. I really do this stuff solo and having help was no help. I asked for some silence as the mind was moving slowly. They filled my bladder and I told them what stuff I wanted to take for the next section, powders, flashlight, pants, etc. They stuffed my pack with my gear, filled up my bladder and sent me on my way with my poles, which I also picked up there. The poles were a question mark.

My friend Mike Ehredt, a veteran runner told me to pick up poles around 25 and use them the rest of the way. They would save my legs at the end. So I dutifully tried to train with them but really felt like I didn't need them. Mike said that he never uses them, except at Hardrock and friend and Hardrock extraordinaire, Kirk Apt uses them too.

I took the poles and met up with Morris and we headed out. About 10 minutes out of the aid station, Morris smacks his head and realizes he forgot his rain jacket and returns to get it. I kept going and enjoyed the time alone. Its funny that as soon as I am alone, I start to doubt my way. There was a guy behind me and I kept making sure he was going the same way. Morris was able to catch up and we made the left hand turn towards Handies. I didn't fill up my bladder at the water stash under the bridge, thinking I had plenty.

We started climbing on the single track that meandered through the woods. We saw Matt Mahoney with his racing flats (sans socks) ahead. Matt had no drop bags, no crew and no pacer, pretty amazing. I passed him with few words and we went on. Somewhere along the way, Tom caught up with us and I was leading the small group of us. We finally break out of the woods and it was a beautiful open high meadow. We could see Handies ahead and I knew that sometimes the approach to a high peak is harder for me than the actual climb, so I took my time. Morris was falling behind at this point and I waited for him a few times. He told me to go on without him but I am always hesitant to do that seeing we all have dark periods and can come back strong.

At the creek crossing, I filled my bladder and Morris's water bottles and Tom and I left him sitting on a rock resting. I didn't see him again. Tom and I started to tackle Handies with our poles clicking along and I realized that I was incredibly glad to have the poles at this point. With a fright I realized my rookie mistake at Sherman - I forgot my head lamp. I had remembered that I had the nice couple put in my flashlight but then the bladder flooded a lot of what was in my bag so I hoped that the flashlight would work. I had miscalculated when I would be down from Handies and into Grouse Gulch aid station. My splits said 7:45pm but it would be more like 10, yikes.

The sun was going down on Handies as we reached the top of Handies and reveled once again in the high thin air, I love being high.It turned out not to be a problem at all; the flashlight worked and was all I needed. Thankfully I had hiked up to American Basin and knew where I was once down from Handies. Olga passed me at this section, running with her amazing downhill abilities. We took this pictureand she ran on. I continued to make my way down, keeping Tom in sight to Grouse.

Grouse Gulch (42.1) 5258 up, 4188 down (covered)
The other thing I had to look forward to was picking up my pacer, Kris Quandt. It would be good to have company and not have to do all the route finding. Kris is a great ultrarunner and I decided I would do exactly what he told me (very unusual behaviour for me). I knew I was probaly down on water and food. I reached the aid station behind on time but wasn't too worried. I wanted to be quick in the aid station and we got out pretty quickly with Julie and Chris's help. I got my headlamp and good flashlight but kept my poles and we were off.

I got caught up on how everyone else was doing and feeling. Olga had left about an hour before and it was good to hear that everyone else was feeling good. Myself, I was doing okay, tired and sore but nothing that was really dogging me. We had a long road up Engineer Pass Road to Oh Point and then a cross county descent that would eventually take us to Bear Creek down into Ouray. I knew this section from Oh Point down from trail marking so I felt that I could put my head down and just hike. It's also nice to have good memories associated with a trail so I was looking forward to being on this section.

We were about a mile (felt like 4) in when we ran into Clem from Bozeman and his wife on the side of the road. Clem and I had done Old Gabes together and a few other races. He's a great runner and I thought it was odd that I was catching up with him. He was experiencing severe dizziness and could barely stay up so we had him sit on the side. His wife asked that we let the next aid station know that he was having troubles. We also said if it didn't get better, maybe turning around would be a good idea. We found out later that Clem made it safely to Ouray where he made the right decision to drop.

We made our way up the 4 miles to Oh Point. One thing you learn at Hardrock is that a mile can feel like many more than one. I thought for sure we should have been to the top so much sooner as I felt like we were moving well. Kris patiently told me each time how much time we had to the top but sometimes you just know that your pacer is lying to you. We fell into a good rhythm and comfortable silence that the night sometimes brings. I do enjoy the night time and even more so with the comfort of my pacer. Finally we made it to the top and I knew exactly where we plunge off the main road to the cross country section to the aid station.
Engineer 48.6 2310 up, 1220 down (covered)
The aid station seemed very remote in the night and the volunteers were very kind and they had a dog. I love dogs and it was such a wonderful feeling to pet this little sweet dog. I had some soup and we moved on. I knew the trail but wasn't moving very fast downhill. I also knew that the toughest section of Bear Creek was still to come. Bear Creek is a trail cut out of the rock suspended above the creek and was really high up. Kris wanted to have a serious talk when my watch hit 20 hours because we were off pace quite a bit. He just wanted to make sure that I was okay not making the time goal and I was. I wanted to continue to feel good and didn't want to push myself for the sake of time. He was good with that answer and we moved on. I took a caffeinated gel at Yellow Jacket Mine and we made it through the scary section of the trail easily but slowly.
The descent to the highway tunnel was on dinner plate scree and went slowly. I knew once we hit the highway, we had about 2 miles to Ouray. I also knew that my sister might be at the aid station so that was something to look forward to but it was also 3:00am so she might be normal and sleeping. We came into Ouray and I knew where to go so we walked towards the park. My sister, Susie was on the side of the road so kindly waiting for me and gave me a hug as I went by. It's amazing what a hug from your sister can do for you.
Ouray 56.5 455 up, 4575 down (covered)
We made it into the aid station and Julie and Chris took great care of me. I wanted to get out fast but I knew what lay ahead for me, Virginius. A group of us had done this section earlier in the week and I got gripped on the descent and had barely held it together on the ascent. Thankfully the sun was starting to come up as we made our way up Old Bird Mine Road and I knew that would melt the snow and make it softer. We started up the road and I was glad that we were covering this road at this time (about 5am) as it can get crowded with jeeps making their way up the road towards either Imogene Pass or toward Virginius. I passed Robert Andrulis and his pacer on the way up and we exchanged "how are yous". There were a few other runners on this section and I welcomed the company.

We finally made it to the aid station and we stayed only to eat something. There were a few other runners that were camped out in front of the fire, which I avoided like the plague. I don't want to get too comfortable at the aid station. We left and headed up towards Virginius. The climb was steep but on a jeep road so we could be two across walking and talking. I saw Bob Combs up ahead taking a break on the side of the road. He looked tired but nothing too bad. He said he would be on his way in a minute so we left him there.

I kept looking for the snow covered Virginius and Kris knew how scared I was and would be. I felt bad for the job Kris faced getting me up there with a minimum of tears. He was great the whole way up. He told me to plant a pole, plant the other pole and then step. So the whole way up, I was Rainman saying over and over,
"Pole"
"Pole"
"Step"
It worked and I made it up the first pitch in spite of the fact that there was a stream running under the snow that made me suck in a breath. The sencond section was easy, a walk up. The third section gave you a choice, you could use the fixed rope on the left, which was steeper but roped. Or you could go up the right side which had steps but was still sketchy. The folks on top of Krogers Canteen were yelling at us to use the fixed rope so that's what we did. It's funny how fear can make something that seems safe still feel like the scariest thing. I held the rope with a white knuckled grip and it felt wet and icy. But we made it to top and to the aid station.

Kroger/Virginius (67.7 miles) 2320 up, 0 down (covered)
I drank some coke at Krogers Canteen aid station which is essentially a ten foot area with sheer drop offs on both sides.I knew the other side down was super steep and would take us into Telluride. I also knew my butt would meet scree on the way down so I threw my pride to the wind, sat down and slid. I thought I would get to a runnable portion but I never could get up a consistent pace down, partly fatigue and just fear. It was, again, slow going down and finally, we reached a place that was switchbacks and there I was able to run and make up some time. Kris was very proud of me for running and I swelled with pride that my pacer was proud of me.

Telluride (72.7 miles) 40 up, 4340 down (covered)
It was hot coming into Telluride and right away I didn't like the energy of the town. I felt stared at, like a dirty hobo coming into town, just felt out of place. We made it to the aid station and they were surprised to see me so soon. I got to pee in a regular toilet and also got a hug from a clean and beautiful Beth Simpson Hall who was picking up Larry for pacing duties. The food was horrible there. I asked for a breakfast burrito as I changed socks and it was so bland, I almost gagged. The mac and cheese was also dismal so I ate what I could and Chris cleaned up my leftovers.

Kris was finished with his pacing duties and him and Julie were leaving directly from Telluride to drive home and get back to work. I thanked them profusely and Chris and I headed out. I needed to get out of Telluride, felt like the town from Poltergiest, weird. Chris is my boyfriend and I was hesitant for him to pace me. It's an odd relationship, the pacer/runner relationship. You don't want someone who is going to let me complain and sympathize with my aches and pains. I need someone who is going to ignore those comments and get me back on track. Chris is the sweetest person I know and I worried that this would be too tough of a job for him.

Chris was so jazzed up to pace that I had to tell him more than once that we were going too fast. I know how hard it is to wait around to pace and then start out slow. He quickly fell into my pace and we hiked. We went around the closed trail sign and started the climb. I remembered Robert telling as we hiked up Old Bird Mine Camp road that the climbs got smaller from that point on so I was looking forward to a shorter climb. Chris assured me that it was a smaller climb...only 4500 foot climb. For some reason, that pissed me off. And like mileage, you think are done climbing way before you actually are. We made it to the first false summit and I thought how good I was doing, then realized we had more climbing to do. I thought the same thing as we reached the second false summit.

We ran into Michelle and her boyfriend who informed us that we weren't even close to the top and I immediately disliked him. We passed them and went on. Up ahead, I could see Olga and Larry and knew that they would leave us on the downhills but it would be nice to visit for a minute. We finally caught up to them right near the talk and Larry was pissed off too because of the long climb. I think he felt betrayed by the climb, decipitively long and tough and we all felt that way.

We now had a long and brutal descent into the aid station. Olga and Larry went on and Chris and I struggled down the pea sized scree on a sever grade. I just couldn't run on it and it was frustrating. It was so slow at times that I sat down on a ground and cried. At the same time I was crying, I was hoping that I would just slide down from there. The descent took forever and fried my quads in the meantime.

At that time, I only had one overwhelming feeling and that was I wanted to be back in Silverton. It had felt like home for the last week, the mother's arms that would comfort me and I wanted to be back there really bad. Finally we came into Chapman Gulch and found Olga not happy as well. It was a good section to cry over and I told her of my tears on the descent, hopefully that made her feel better.

Chapman Gulch (82.0 miles) 4500 up, 3090 down (covered)
There were a few other folks in the aid station and we exchanged hellos. Don Platt and I had been together for a while and I told him how glad I was to be done with Viriginius because of my fear of exposure. He said the most uncomforting thing and that was "if you think Virginius is bad, wait until you see Grant Swamp". I put him on my mental list of people I intensely disliked. We ate some delicious mac and cheese and beef brisket, totally hit the spot for lunch.

I had not done the Grant Swamp section.I just waved my hand when it was mentioned saying it was close to the finish I would get through it. But as I made my way to the pass, I kept looking and looking at it trying to figure out where we were going over and how scared I should be. When it was pointed out to me, everyone was always pointing to this section that had multi tiers of waterfalls and I thought, what the hell? Are we going to have to climb up the waterfall?

After the last 82 miles, it was possible.

Chris and I covered ourselves with sunscreen and bug spray and took off. Despite the fear that I was becoming familiar with, the hike around to Grant Swamp was beautiful. Not terribly uphill and we ran into a nice family. They had a toddler and an infant in a carrier. This soothed me tremendously because if someone had taken their kids up here, than it couldn't be that bad, right?
Wrong. I finally pointed out where I thought we were going to Chris and he corrected me to a place around the corner from the waterfalls. It wasn't much better. We got there as an approaching storm was coming in.

As we waited first in line to head up what can only be described as loose scree on a conveyor belt. We watched the people about halfway up make it to the top. Lightning and thunder banged around us and I just stared up trying to figure out how the hell we were going to get up there. There was a couple that had done this section many, many times so we asked if they would lead. They kindly did.

Olga and Larry were behind us and the three pairs of us started up. I was trying to stay close to Chris but it was hard because each step seemed to let loose a stream of scree that rained down on the person below you. I worried that I would send a big rock down so we spaced out safely. There were some faint switchbacks on the climb but it didn't really help much. It was one step up and two steps down. I knew I wasn't exaggerating my fears when I called for Chris to help me and he answered back with fear in his voice. It made me feel better that I wasn't the only one thinking this was a bad idea. Larry behind me was doing great, totally comfortable on this type of stuff and that was also comforting. Olga just had her head down and was getting it done.

I finally scrambled up to the top and caught my breath. Chris and I hugged like we were final survivors of a Friday the 13th movie. I was very relieved and happy to be done. We waited for Olga and Larry to finish up and we headed down to KT aid station. I had been shown the Kamm Traverse which was a trail that Ulli Kamm discovered from looking at old mining maps and linked the areas. I was looking forward to this trail because it looked like a beautiful slight downhill to the aid station. It went on forever and we relished it as the sun was going down.

KT (89.0 miles) 2920 up, 2450 down (covered)
We reached the aid station and I wanted to be in and out because I smelled the barn and knew the next section like the back of my hand even though I had done it only once. We ate some noodles and broth and grabbed more gels and took off. I told Chris that he couldn't avoid getting his feet wet in the beginningand in spite of his frostbitten feet, he still wanted to do this section. We went down the road about a 1/4 mile and then took a left turn to the trail. We had to cross a creek and then hack our way through some willows in shin deep cold water. I hoped Chris's feet would be okay for the rest of the section but really I was focused on finishing, only 10 miles to go.

I told him that there was three big climbs in this section but couldn't remember what the second one was like. It was starting to get dark and you always want to get as far as you can before total darkness fell. We caught up to Rickie Redlands and she was having some stomach problems so I shared my ginger with her telling her to just stick it on the side of her mouth if she couldn't keep it down. She is incredibly tough so I knew we would see her again as I was having to take rest breaks a lot. We went back and forth for a while on the first climb but then I didn't see her and her husband again.

The first climb was over and we had a nice section of trail before the second climb. I realized that I shut out the second climb because it was a bitch. We made it up and we were getting above treeline (for the 13th time in the race). I wish it was light out because the scenery was so beautiful but I just tried to describe it to Chris instead. We were entrenched in darkness now and I was looking forward to the climb up to Catarach Ridge because I knew it was the last climb. We looked up to see the moon shining down on us.

The wind was starting to pick up and we looked around wondering what the weather was really like. Seeing the moon was deceptive because we were actually in the midst of colliding storms. The wind started to howl and we knew we were probably going to get rained on. We had made it to the top of the ridge and we knew that there was about 10other runners within about 3-4 miles. The first lightning strike was close and it was the strike that hit my friend, Bob.

He was without a pacer and not close to other runners. He knows the strike knocked him off his feet and he probably went unconscious. When he got up, his left side was numb but he kept moving because the storm was still all around us. Rain turned to hail and the temperature dropped about 20 degrees in a matter of minutes. Chris and I were running for our lives with the lightning and thunder hitting at the same time all around us.

The runner behind us was announcing how far away it was, 1 mile, 1/2 miles, 1/3 of a mile. I think I finally told him to shut up. We were headed downhill but were still above treeline so we were the tallest thing out there. I worried about all the people behind us that were still on the ridgeline. Larry told me later that lightning hit close to them and struck a metal marker bending the metal into a tootsie roll. Throughout it all, I wasn't scared. I knew I should be but it was almost perversely exciting to me. I have never been afraid of lightning even though I should be. We knew that the aid station was close and finally we saw the light. It was a great beacon of comfort in the cold, rainy dark night.

Putnam (94.6 miles) 2425 up, 1455 down (covered)
Our friends, Marcy and John. were working the aid station and they were ready for us. Before we knew it, warm drinks were in our hands and they did everything they could to help us. The hail was slowing down and it was turning back to rain. It was still incredibly cold and I had my raincoat zipped to the top with the hood on but I wasn't generating any body heat. We had to keep moving. We had 5.9 miles to go. I wanted to finish and knew there was nothing that could keep me from doing that. I also knew that the next section was a tough downhill with huge rocks jutting out from any angle. Not exactly the best footing at 1:30am.

I had also taken a spill on this trail on this section during our training run and wanted to get past that bad ju-ju section. We made our way down slowly and I was starting to feel jubilant. I saw the race before my eyes being replayed and it was wonderful, even the scary parts. I was proud of myself for working through those sections, with the help of my friends and fellow runners. It's a wonderful place to be, 5 miles from the finish of a 100 miler knowing you are almost done.

I was waiting for the rocks to change to soft dirt and at that point, I knew we were close to Mineral Creek and the rope crossing. That rope crossing symbolized the finish to me even though there were two more miles to go. I reached the rope and made it across and we hit the road. We ran into another runner who was unsure of where the trail was. We showed him the way and our place behind them was set. I wanted to run it in only because I was dying to get off my feet but the guy in front of us was walking, so we walked.

Even though I was anxious to finish, I relished the last two miles. I couldn't wait to kiss the rock and get a hug from Dale Garland. I waved to the Shrine to the Miners up on the hill as we got into Silverton. Chris peeled off when we hit street and I ran through Silverton in the middle of night knowing that people were warm in their beds and I would soon be too. I took the last turn at the high school and saw the flags of all the states and countries represented this year. I heard a few people cheer, it was the middle of the night. I reached the rock and kissed it.

I hugged Dale and he put the medal on. It was anti-climatic but not in the least bit disappointing. I had done this for the journey and the destination was just frosting. It was great to finish but I loved how I got there. I walked into the bright gym and got a hug from Larry Hall. Beth almost made me cry when she said how proud of me she was. All these people that I respected were proud of me and that was so rewarding. Andrea made me a hamburger with a fried egg on top and I shared it with Chris. I went outside to watch Bob finish and he shared his story of lightning on the mountain with all of us. I got to see Olga finish too, she arrived right after Bob. Chris's feet were not doing well so he took an oxycotin and fell asleep in the gym. He had to leave in a few hours and needed some sleep. I slept in the back of my truck and he woke up and slept in his car for a few hours.

We woke up to news of other finishers (including Leonard). We headed into the breakfast awards and they fed us bacon and sausage and some other food I can't remember. The awards party was fun and that was mostly because of Dale Garland. He is equal parts funny and sweet and you can't help but love him as our great leader.

There was a meaningful dedication to Kirk Apt for his 15th finish of Hardrock. Upon first meeting, Kirk comes across as a sweet, generous and kind human. He is the Dalai Lama of Hardrock and I was able to thank him for the advice from him that had been handed down to me. I got my picture from Dale and enjoyed hearing the stories of other runners. Dale told us that an eagle had flown over Grouse Gulch aid station wih a still alive fawn in its talens. I learned that eagles sometime drop their prey to kill it and this eagle dropped the fawn near the aid station and it pretty much exploded everywhere. While the story was incredibly sad, it reminded us of the unflinchingness of the race and surrounding area.

It was great that people like John DeWalt, 73 year old finisher get the same standing ovation as the winners. I was so happy to see that Leonard finished after 5 tries. His smile was huge. The biggest news of the race was the amazing performance of Diana Finkel, who shattered the record and was third overall. It was a great representation of what women can do. I looked around, saw all my new friends and got to share in their successes.

Even people that didn't finish still had a sense of accomplishment in being out there and fighting. I talked to Clem and his wife and was so happy to see him doing well. It was all incredibly touching and wiped tears away more than once. My sister and her family met me after the awards. Chris had to leave and I worried about him driving home after staying up for two days. I knew his feet were bad but we said our goodbyes. We grabbed a bite to eat, Mother Cluckers, surprised? I ate and it tasted just okay, not yet having my appetite back.

My sister wanted to head back and I was along for the ride. My brother in law drove my car back and I rode with my sister and her kids, who I love. I spent the next few days at my sister's in Denver recovering. My biggest ailment were mud irritations on the inside of each calf that was incredibly painful. The mud makes litle cuts in your legs over and over as your feet hit your calf and rub together. But it was gone within a week. My legs were sore but nothing too bad. I took two weeks off from running but did walk a lot.

The overwhelming feeling I have when I think of Hardrock is life changing. I was able to leave my worries and responsibilities behind for days and just live life for the trail. I met so many amazing people, each with their own story of successes and struggles. And that week, there was plenty of time to sit down and hear those stories and share your own. It's too busy of a world these days and Hardrock lets you slow down. The race is run so seemlessly and with true joy, it is shared by everyone involved. During the awards, great attention was spent recognizing the great work of the volunteers. As a runner, it was grea to be able to recognize the altruistic deeds of these people. Of I forgot, my time was 45:18 and that was way off my goal time but I wasn't disappointed in the least. I finished the race and that was my ultimate goal.

Hardrock 100

Oh crap, they picked me.

I am psyched to have new focus and something to motivate me behides ass fat. My motivation to run has been low in the last 6 months, nursing nagging injuries and making excuses to not get out. But not anymore, I have 5 months to get in shape for the big climbs, 2 1/2 of those months I will be working ungodly hours so will find time where I can.

Congrats to others picked and still others high on the waiting list. I am bummed that some didn't get in because I would have loved to see them out there. Got to redo my race schedule too to incorporate some good climbing.

Now, whose run this damn thing that can give me some advice? Anything will help!

Behind the Scenes

He blew away the competition. More to come....

Speedgoat 50k

Amazing photos are here.
Results and maps are here.

So after my dnf at Devils Backbone a couple weeks ago, my next race was Speedgoat 50k at Snowbird up Little Cottonwood Canyon in Salt Lake. My friend, Cole, who I am pacing and crewing at Wasatch was out for a week before Speedgoat for some training. He lives in Ohio (que the tears) so there was some work to be done (or so I thought). He came out Sunday before last and by Thursday, he had logged 70 some miles and 20,000 feet of climbing and systematically kicked my ass. Here are some pictures of our fun:



We took Friday off as a rest day and travelled to Salt Lake after a late start out of Jackson complete with breakfast burritos and ice cream shakes. The ride was uneventful but hot seeing I have never owned a vehicle with air conditioning. We checked into the Lodge or the Inn I forget but it was nice, right at the start with a pool. My only goal for the day was the pool and that got done around 7 that nite. We ate dinner with our friend, Eric Johnson from Logan who was racing too and went to bed.

Not too early of a start 6:30 and we just had to check in and get our bags. Sweet goat shirts, mine's black and looks incredibly menancing. I can't wait to wear it on an overcast day. I think with the sun hitting that thing could kill me within minutes but cloudy, I'm busting it out.

The actual course or vertical weren't really decided on until the last minute and you know I like it like that. Keeps it interesting. I decided not to study the map even though my friend Todd had printed us out a nice big color coded map. I just daydreamed when they were going over it because one look at that thing and I knew it wouldn't help me much, more confusing. I heard words like "intestinal loops" so I knew I was relying on the flagging job of fellow runners who were volunteering.

We figure out drop bag, one for both of us. I put in extra gels, trying to roctane (and loving them), extra socks, shirt and my inhaler. In light of my recent hamburger feet, Cole kindly suggested I try another pair of socks and as a true gear whore (I mean horder), he had an extra pair. So I wore his Wright socks underneath my smartwool and low and behold, not that many blisters at all.

We headed to the start and were off in no time. I should explain where I was in the morning, let's just say I was dragging ass. Too many great days and nites of running followed by palty 5-6 hours of sleep were catching up to me. I had my black period pretty much right off the bat. I woke up in a mood funk (not funky) and in a lot of pain. I had worked on my achilles and calves (constant annoyance) in the car on the way to SLC and proceeded to fire those things badly. You know when you are saying things like "come on, baby, you can do this" in the first 15 minutes, it's not good. I tried to get Cole to go on as he was strong and felt good but wouldn't. We were way back and Cole said he got worried when he looked back and our only competition was the guy picking up the flags, oh god.

But as we all know, these periods do not last forever. Mine usually last exactly one hour, so at 7:30, the monkey slid off my back and I climbed. And oh how we climbed... 4000 feet in the first 8 miles but it's Karl Meltzer race so there were little downhills in the middle of the climbs and towards the end of the race, you didn't want to do the downhills because you knew what came after the downhills. Got to the first aid station at 4 miles, peed, watered and had a little downhill feeling better. We climbed up to 11,000 at the top of the tram and hit the aid station and drop bag there. Saw some folks I know, Becky and Jarrod and said hi. Filled up, grabbed some chips and a peanut butter/jelly sandwich and knew there was some downhill coming.

Downhill wouldn't really describe what was next (see above topo), more like a glissade but with rock and dirt. Dumbass (me) still had the sandwich and chips in my hand and thought I was foot-worthy enough to tackle this without hands. And you are not going to take food out of my hands, but I wised up and shoved everything into my mouth and attached my handheld to my pack and went for it. The first pitch wasn't too bad but the next one was something you wanted to give your full attention to. There was Black Diamond kids patroling the area and they were all wearing helmets. There was a section that was roped and me, having no pride at all, clunged to that rope like my mother would. We pretty much laughed throughout the day about the absurity of the course and how great it was to be doing it. We were then treated to a ridge run that reminded me of the Devils Backbone and totally runnable for at least 15 feet at a time before some climb brought you back to a walk.

After that was a plunge down into Mineral Basin, pretty much 4000 feet down in about 4 miles to that tall drink of water, Roch Horton's aid station. Now, I don't know Roch personally but we both agreed when we grow up, we want to be Roch. First, the name, it's got it all and says it all. And he's supernice, knows what you want and need and always has kind words. I got a popsicle, ice and water for my bandana and they had cold wet towels. This was a runners aid station and it had it all. Finally Cole pulls me out of my swoon and we head up.

Next up was a 2000 foot climb and it was here that we started to make some progress with steady, strong climbing. We passed about 11 guys on this climb, some just looking hot and tired from the big descent (that we had taken fairly easy) and some looking not so great. I commented to Cole that the reason we were making such great progress is that we were working as a team but he totally poo-poo'ed that idea, whatever. We get to the top of the climb thankfully and were still doing okay. We were good to remind each other to eat, drink and take S caps regularly.

We were climbing up something (the climbs gets muddled after a while and I might have things out of order) and we saw Eric up ahead. He was with my friend Todd from here so it was good to see familiar faces. We climbed together for a while and it was a beautiful section with flowers and beautiful views from up high. Sometimes, we would leave a full functioning and lovely singletrack to take a hard left or right on what can only be described as an old abandoned goat path, possibly some stamped down grass but that was about it. We passed some volunteers and the woman said I was running in the top 10 for woman which was surprising in light of my demise at the start but it was just what Cole needed to hear and he said he would keep me there. My goal was just not to dnf.

We then got into the tunnel which was dark and pretty cool. It felt great to be out of the unrelenting sun for a minute or two. From the tunnel, we went down a good ways on a service road and it was a little confusing. I thought we might be off course because there was some construction flagging and it was hard to differentiate between that and the race flagging. And I didn't want to go down if I was wrong and have to head back up. But we found our way and I ran into a woman I ran with at Devils Backbone two years ago. We passed her but I knew what an efficient runner she was and that she would be back.

We had another great climb through some shaded switchbacks on narrow singletrack and then came the (I swear everyone called it this) demoralizing ridge climb. It lasted forever, was unrelentless, hot, steeper than hell, actually it felt like hell would feel and it made me yell at Cole (sorry buddy). He was saying something nice and he stopped and there was no stopping on that hill (besides the "let's just make it to that bush" stops). So he stops to say something and I lose it, "don't stop keep going", there might have been more words than that. I was in survival mode and there aren't that many niceties there. I told him I would apologize later but I could only just make it up that damn ridge first. I have discovered that I am not a multi tasker and being nice and climbing that ridge were mutually exclusive.

So we climbed up to the top of Hidden Peak again and there were two people standing at the top. They were smiling so I knew they were not doing the race. I thought, great, we will hit the aid station, my drop bag and head down to the finish because I thought I had the mileage in my head that there was about 4+ miles.

Imagine my surprise (in my jaunty mood to boot) when the smiling volunteers pointed us not to the aid station but down some more and then back up before we get to the aid station. I asked the dreaded question, how much further? The guy said once we got back to the top (again), it was about 5 miles and he said this all while smiling. I think he had the toughest job of the day because people really broke down on that ridge. So I was about 3 grueling miles off. Demoralized and abused but asking for it, we pressed on. We were still on the homestretch (even if it did involve some wretched climbs), we ran the downhills and there was some great scenery and were able to put some snow in our hats, bandanas and bottles so that cheered me up.

I was definitely looking forward to the downhill because my quads felt really solid and the downhill didn't hurt my ankles. Finally, we get to the top, re-supply, have some coke and food and head off for the downhill to the finish. I swear we were flying downhill and I was barely keeping Cole in sight. It was heating up and you feel it as you descend especially a 1000 feet a mile. We passed a few people on the way down and in all, probably passed about 40 people all day and were only passed twice or three times. Helps to start in way back for that to happen.

So we run and run downhill and start to see signs of civilization. I see the big white tent and look across the canyon to see how low we are. I know we are close and it is heaven to come around the corner and see the finish line. We finish together and come in at 8:47. I was shooting for sub 10 so I am thrilled. I was the 8th woman and third in my age group (when you throw out the top 5 women overall). Those Utah girls are fast and tough and the top woman, Anita Ortiz, is from Colorado and was third overall. There were some amazing runs done by those top people, running the stuff I couldn't even imagine powerwalking.

So we hang out for a while, drink some recovery stuff and then head to the creek. I enjoy a good soak and clean off pretty well in the creek but we head to the pool for some real relaxing. We ask someone in the parking lot for the temperature from their car, 102, that's why it felt so hot. We head to the awards ceremony and I get a cool goat picture and pick up a pair of Native sunglasses. Todd was also third in his age group so I pick up his picture and we meet for dinner with him and my friend Marty. Beef is consumed in large quantities and throughly enjoyed.

Sleep comes quickly that night and the next morning is another early one. I take Cole to the airport and then head home. I pick up tubby dumbo at the kennel and spend a good portion of the day on the couch. My legs feel pretty good, tired but not injured. In the meantime, a little time on the bike and I think an open water lake swim might be in my future. I feel my appetite raging so I see some 5 meals days coming up too.

So if you like the idea of a hot poker to you know where, definitely sign up for Speedgoat. It's a masochist's course put on by a couple of sadists (and we all know who we are). But, I think the confidence and strength you get from finishing a race like this goes far to other races. So I think Cole is ready for Wasatch and I have El Vacquero Loco up next in Afton in three weeks (so excited because I thought it was just two weeks but three is great). Check out the website for more info, it's another great one with lots of climb and great views. Website is here.

Devils Backbone

Jackson is a hard place to beat for good living. I can't think of one other place I would rather live than Jackson, except Bozeman. Bozeman offers a bit more city life without taking the small town feel away. Throw in a sweet new library and a college and it runs a close second to Jackson.

I look forward to heading to Bozeman each summer to see old friends and hit their trails. Tom and Liz Hayes-McGoff are the race directors for two great races up there, Old Gabes 50k, an asskicker with 12,000 feet of climbing that I missed due to BH and Devils Backbone, a 50 miler of such shear beauty (and asskicking) you almost...almost (but not quite) ask for more.
I had some company coming to join me in Bozeman this weekend. My friend Roman from Houston was flying in to visit and run the race. Yes, I have flatlander friends. Roman lived out here and we worked together for a short time many years ago. We were the Spartan Cheerleaders for Halloween and I say this without a doubt; Roman has the best herkie and split jump I have seen. The vert he gets almost baffles the mind and coupled with the fact that he's about 6'2", 220 linebacker type, it's amazing. That's why he's my friend. That and we can talk about anything which we did most of the weekend.

So he flies in, we have too many beers at the brew pub on the way home and I drive to Bozeman with a big fat OB-1 headache the next morning. The drive was beautiful, through Yellowstone and the Gallatin Canyon. We get there in time to check into a hotel (high style for ultrarunning) and take some funny pictures of a big bush before heading to Tom and Liz's house for pre-race dinner and meeting.
The course hadn't really been decided on before the dinner. There was a lot of snow up high and getting to the first peak, Hyalite was iffy. Iffy became impossible when it took Tom, multiple Hardrock finisher 10 hours to do 25 miles, which was past the cutoff time. So it was decided we would start from the other way, up Portal Creek to Windy Pass and do 12.5 out and back, 10 mile loop in the opposite direction and then 7.5 on the first out and back. Tom claims this was going to be easier than the original course - yeah, right. Ate tons of food, a little hair of the dog and won a container of Mild Melon Heed. I was hoping this flavor was going to be better than the current flavor I have which can only be described as belly button lint, rolled in fish guts set in the sun then sprinkled with orange cream powder. Let you know how it is.

So we have to get up pretty darn early to get to the start line by 6, like middle of the nite early as the start was about 1 1/2 hour away. Roman, still on Central time, had us up at 2:50 instead of 3:50 so we laid there not sleeping until the real alarm went off. We got there with about 15 minutes to spare. There was some confusion at the road forks and somehow I was making navigational decisions which is a really bad idea. My confidence highly overshadows my complete inability to tell direction but we all got there.

The Devils Backbone touts itself as unmarked, unaided, and unequaled. If you know me, you know these are my races. It leaves the whiners, sissies and people that regularly shower at home. It's not that I like getting lost or running out of food and water but I know it's probably going to happen to me on any course, so I might as well sign up for a race that promotes right there in the brochure. People who stress over the hand drawn maps or no maps at all, ask the millionth question and then look around worried trying to find that person they are going to attach themselves to, those people don't have fun at these kind of races. I avoid eye contact with those people. I like the people that listen, shrug their shoulders and go back to their lasagna.

I did run with an interesting person who rocked old school. This guy was a lawyer by trade but was building a house in Livingston. He showed up to prerace meeting in Wranglers and cowboy boots (beat up, not new). His hydration and nutrition for the race went something like this. A Pure Simple Organic Limeade bottle (gallon) filled with I think limeade (really wanted some) and a small baggie with what looked like a sandwich in it. He was doing the longest distance he'd ever done (25 miles) and finished really well.

I got to see my friend Herbert, who pulled my sorry ass from Crybaby Land at the Big Horn with his sage words and understanding. And my friend Fran, who did GT100 with me and never fails to amaze me with her laid back attitude or sunscreen application. For those of you who don't know, zinc oxide is not dead and I wish I had some on that day. And her dog, Bok Choy had a great time on the trail and ran about 125 miles.

I knew it would be a long day but was surprised by how much the elevation and constant exposure to the sun drained me and quickly. I started out with my normal speed, snails pace, and then slowed a little bit from there. Our first 2 miles climbed about 1300 feet, then there was a bit more climbing before getting out on the ridge. Once out there, you could see for miles to other runners out ahead on the trail so you had a good idea of where to head and really, even I can't get lost on a ridgeline. There was a lot of snow on the course and that took a toll on everyone especially as the day wore on and the snow softened.

I reached the turnaround (12.5 miles) in 3 1/2 hours and was able to hook up with my great friend, Kim Taft for a little while. Her good cheer and constant smile brightened me up and I am lovin the hair. She was doing the relay with her husband and they had a true exchange in the form of their 17 month old son, Theo. Devils Backbone allows the relay people to start whenever so technically this year relay partners could run together. In years past, you and your relay partner started at different ends and met somewhere in the middle.
On the way back from 12.5 out, I was feeling pretty good although a little tired. I ran into Roman who was cold (Texan) and said he was thinking of doing 35, then driving back to town for some more clothes. I told him he would probably warm up as the sun got higher and hoped that I wouldn't be left. I ran back mostly alone but had far away company in sandwich/limeade guy. I had to backclimb a small cliff band where I had lost the trail and gone too high, you get your money's worth at the Devils Backbone.

Hit the 25 mile mark and felt fairly close to shit - tired, snow blind and sunburned but couldn't think of anywhere else I would like to be. I hit the pickles hard, and the pringles harder with some to go. I cleaned the sticks, pine straw and other grass cousins out of my handheld from all the snow I had stuffed in there. Someone filled my bladder and with everything stuffed in it, I looked like I had a papoose back but it worked. However, I headed out without the two things that would indicated I was going to finish this thing, my handheld and my headlamp. Consciously (headlamp) or unconsciously (handheld), I left them both behind. I did manage to clean out the scree field that was my shoes, put on some more sunscreen and get some calories on board. I also asked a few guys around me when they were headed out so I could hook up some company for the 10 mile loop.

One guy took off pretty quickly which wasn't a gear available to me. I ran the flat fairly well all the while trying to digest Tom's verbal directions. I had him give it to me like you would talk to a 3 year old. Don't tell me what I shouldn't do because "don't go left at the tree" sounds like "go left at the tree" when you are out there. So I just had him to tell me what I should do and I took it from there. So the directions went something like this,

Go back a ways, take the trail that heads South (great, I don't know direction but I just nod my head), then look for a weather station and head for it. He said it was only a 700 foot climb but I am thinking that he must have been referring to "the other" weather station out there because this one seemed a lot higher than 700 feet of a climb. You have to touch the weather station (thankfully the weather was clear, no lightning in the area) and then run to the second rocky knoll (rocky knoll?) and at the second rocky knoll there will be some ribbon, turn around and go back to the weather station and touch it again, then run away. There's not much of a trail so head for the station and then when you come back, don't go to the turnaround but head back out on the ridge. You will probably lose the trail but just keep high. Crystal Clear, I love these races.

There was a lot of snow out there, just big mounds of snow to go up and over. My Achilles were hating life but still answering my call. I hooked up with a guy named Scott, pretty much I just started talking to him until he put his ipod away. Cool guy from Helena doing his first 50 miler, he was a biologist who geeked out on maps, so jealous. The good thing about that big hill was there was the most beautiful rocks and I loved that a lot of the girls picked some up. I didn't see any boys saying "look at this pretty rock" but the girls all stopped to show off our rocks. This is why I like running long distances, more breaks for chatting. Alas, another reason I am not gonna win these things, too busy walking and showing off pretty rocks.

There was a definite glissade down from the weather station. Scott had given me some pointers on good techniques when he first spotted the humongous snow field on the mountain and even went first so I could see if he was going to crash. We watched Herbert pull off some great tele-turns in running shoes. I worried the whole way to the rocky knoll and had my sharp stick ready to self arrest when I started down. All my nervousness was for naught because it was like being on a big slide with snow butt wash chaser, none of which I didn't enjoy. So we get off the weather station mountain and head back to the aid station because our day is done.

On the way back to finish the 10 mile loop (that took 3 1/2 hours) I had pretty much made up my mind that the thought of a good nite's sleep won over finishing in the dark. I was shocked at how easy it was to make that decision and how psyched I was to not have to hit the ridge again. My first DNF was Devils Backbone, never thought it would be but it was okay. I equate it with seeing your long lost love and then leaving immediately to run off for a flight to Tahiti that serves all you can eat bacon, both are pretty good options.

So we ran back to the turnaround just to make sure Tom wasn't there but he had already started to sweep the course and actually shepherded a great guy from Texas, Ali on his first 50 finish, way to go dude. That was a big smile out there all day and he was the big winner of the day. Ali definitely deserves the hoodie. So then we walked down the steep 1.3 to the finish. We debated whether we should run it in but decided seeing we were dropping that we shouldn't. I asked Scott if he would kick me real hard so I had an excuse for dropping but he wouldn't so we strolled in as the winners of the loser 35 mile category. We got tee-shirts instead of hoodies and sat around, compared blisters (I won) and talked to some relayers about their day. Then went and soaked in the creek for a while and Roman and I headed back to the hotel.

We had big plans of going out on the town but ended up eating chicken in our respective beds while watching reality tv, also a good option. Brunch is at Looie downstairs the next day and it was great food and good race stories. We checked the Hardrock results and saw how well everyone had done. Kyle's new record and an amazing job done by my new friend Bushwacker, beautifully paced by Olga.

We drove home after brunch and went through Yellowstone which still takes my breath away with it's beauty in spite of the large crowds of people. Enjoy the photos.



So I am kinda glad that I got my first dnf under my belt. I was wondering when it would happen. I think my mental strength tank was on empty from Bighorn but both were still worth it. I think next year I will do BH100 and then DB relay. Next up is Speedgoat for a little punishment, lots of climbing in not very many miles. Then El Vacquero Loco, that my friend Ty Draney puts on down in Afton, Wyoming. This week should be a good week of running with Cole coming for some elevation training. Lots of trails, lots of friends to run with and finally the Teton summer is here and all 12 days of it will be appreciated.

Recovery has been good, took three days off mostly just being busy but I believe in rest (really just lazy). Wednesday, I ran my favorite run to Phillips divide and reflected on the last time I had been there. I hadn't yet done a 100 and now I have done 2. There was only one other person on the trail I saw that nite, an old friend. He said that he turned around at the snow and told me where it was, seemingly impassable to him. Funny, when I got there, I just went right through it thinking how nice it is to do distances and not let things like snow stop you. I probably would have stopped before but now you just keep going. Things are very good in life and I am grateful for it. Summer is fleeting so get out there and don't take it for granted. Here's a picture of Phillips, enjoy.

Ain't Nothin Wrong with the Bighorn, Part Deux

All the pictures can be found here.


The french is for the French Ultrarunning team that I leap frogged with all race. And to be honest, I don't think they really liked being passed by a woman, but I busted out my best french and finally figured out how to not have them consider me a dirty american (not that way). But eventually they passed me for good along with a good number of other folks that day, especially on the last 5 miles of dirt road at the end.

I love the Bighorn, it's all Wyoming, all the time. It was my first ultra in 2006 and my favorite wild and scenic trail outside of the Tetons. The race director, Melanie Powers, is not a runner herself but shares the enthusiasm and did a phenomenal job of re-routing our snowy course and getting all of us up to date. Her and her crew, along with Sports Stop Store in Sheriday were amazing.

I took an extra day off and left Jackson Wednesday caravaning with my friends, Kris and Julie, who I had married a couple of weeks ago. Julie was doing her first 100 and Kris, his first 50 miler. We stopped in Cody at Sierra Trading Post, the Wyoming Saks. Coffee at the Beta and then went through beautiful Shell Canyon and up and over Burgess Junction to come down into Dayton.

Of course, we were staying with Lea and Marshall at the Foothills Campground right in Dayton and thankfully, right at the finish line. We set up camp, mine being a new tent someone has graciously given me and chilled. We were next to Dan and Pat Spurlock of Pocatello, who came with their son, Aaron to run. We caught up on things and enjoyed a nice quiet nite at the campground.

Thursday found us packing drop bags and wondering what we would need. The new course with it's extra loops and one out and back afforded us the chance to see Footbridge and Dry Fork Aid stations three times each so we only had to pack two bags. And the size of the bag was not brought up by race officials.

We checked in at the Sports Stop in Sheridan and met Kris's dad and stepmom for a meal. Being the health conscious runners we are, I opted for the chicken finger platter, Kris got about 2 lbs of nachos and Julie went with the hamburger. Got back to the campground and it had about tripled in size thanks to a troop of boy scouts from Colorado. Imagine the scene - 20 or so 13 year old kids and their dads (seemingly enjoying the trip more), no less than 7 vehicles all pulling trailers, canoes and other assorted crap. We stood there agape while Lea promised us that she threatened them with death if they were loud. And they were so quiet, helped by the delouge of rain and hail for the second nite. The worry was that the next night, if the skies decided to hail again, we would be in it, possibly on a ridgeline.

This being Julie's first 100, we had discussed reasons for a dnf. Last year, I read the running manual for the Cascade Crest and it made me want to run the race, just from the manual. But one thing struck me in my reading. It was a section for first time runners written by a woman named Melissa Berman, a 5 time CCC finisher and she writes

"Figure out ahead of time what would have to happen to make you quit and do not quit unless that thing happens. For some people it might be that they are not making some time/distance goal. For me it is I will keep going unless I injure something so badly that I am physically unable to proceed. And I finished with some very nasty blisters and I have spent 1.5 hours at an aid station (Kachess Lake) where my crew thought I was a goner, but I came back from the dead and finished. To finish CCC (and maybe any other 100 or any ultra for that matter) one must be determined to finish because inevitably something will happen out there and you will have to get past it or give up."

I don't know this woman but I think she pretty much hits it on the head. So with that quote, which I had taped to my drop bag on my first 100, we came up with a suitable list of things that be the reasons for Julie to drop. Please note that while Julie was allowed to negotiate some of these, the panel gave her no slack. Here they are:
1. Big Horn has rattlesnakes in the canyon, so Julie could drop if she was bitten by a rattlers BUT ONLY if she presented the rattler still attached to her jugular.
2. Lightning - In light of the recent weather, Julie could stop if she took a direct hit BUT ONLY if smoke was coming out of the bottom of her feet.
3. Hail - couldn't be ignore and Julie could stop BUT ONLY if she took a direct hit from a baseball size hail or larger and she had to present the hail. When the hail was Whopper candy size the nite before the race, we made her go out and see how it felt just have to gauge, she said it hurt.
3. Animal Attacks - Moose attack BUT ONLY if she presented a large hoof print on her cheek. Bear - no grizzlies at the Bighorn, so keep going.
4. Loss of Limb - BUT ONLY a leg and it had to be above the knee. From the elbow down, she had to continue even if it meant holding the severed appendage (with the handheld still attached) as she ran.

A lot of people were involved with that list (read it wasn't only me) and while some people might think it inappropriate, it cut the mood.

The race started at 11am Friday so we didn't have to get to bed too early and had plenty of time in the morning. The prerace meeting was standard, door prizes, excellent outfits and familiar faces. We didn't have to get dressed too early seeing we were right there and just had to make it to the starting line 2 miles up the canyon by 11, easy. The one good thing about a late start is I was able to get in about 1000 calories that morning, which is fairly easy for a piggy like me.



Kris drove us up to the start with another friend Katherine Dowson doing her first 100 (finished 2nd woman). I found a nice size leak in my Nathan bladder and Kris did some quick duct tape work on it before the start. Saw my friend Aaron from GT100 and caught up a little bit. We missed the prerace prayer that my friends wanted me to lead seeing as I was recently ordained but enjoyed the national anthem. Then we lined up in the back and started the race.



Julie and I were with some other ladies and we chatted and figured out where we knew each other from. Saw Olga from Oregon for the first and last time as she busted out a 3rd place finish. The first part of the race is a big climb up the canyon and it can be hot. I was lucky enough to run into Wendell, who I believe is the creator of the Bighron and he shared some great history on the area. It passed the time on the climb nicely. It's hard to imagine when you first start a 100 that you will be back in this very place in somewhere between 20-34 hours, definitely a different person. What person you are coming back as is the real mystery.

We climbed about 8.25 miles to the first aid station, Upper Sheep Creek. Julie felt slow but was doing well and the sun was in and out of the clouds. And we had just missed seeing a bear with her cubs by minutes I guess. Only a black bear, so no out for Julie. Our next section was beautiful from Freeze Out Point to Dryfork, one of our first main aid stations. Kris and his parents were there and crewed us beautifully. We hooked up some good energy named Debbie from Virginia. We hoped she would stay with us but she had a pacer coming in sometime. I don't do pacers; prefer to make my way with fellow runners. I will pace others, but have never had one myself.

We felt pretty well at Dryfork which is at mile 15.3 and headed out for a loop up Riley's Ridge via which was one of the course changes and something that usually only the 50k people do. But before we headed up Riley's we visited my favorite aid station, Cow Camp for some bacon. Anyone who knows me, knows my obsession with bacon. If you saw someone with a grey skirt and pink shirt with bacon shooting out of the front pockets of a Nathan pack, that was me. And it was high quality bacon, not that thin crap that falls apart, this was Wyoming bacon. I was a strict vegetarian for 14 years and when I drop off the vegetable truck back to meat, the first and only thing I wanted was bacon. It's still the thing I want everyday. I.love.bacon. and they had bacon for me.

The climb up Rileys is good climb - 2000 feet in about 3 miles and then goes along the ridgeline until it drops again into Dryfork. First time up was great, I love these climbs and was doing well with my eating and drinking. Julie caught up on the ridgeline and I was glad to see her. She's the descender and I am a climber so we usually meet in the middle. Down to Dryfork again and no crew this time, Kris was signing in for 50 miler the next day. We grabbed lights, dinner and weighed in for the first time. I had dropped 4 lbs and needed to drink more. Then we headed out for some nite running. With the later start than usual races, we had to put our headlamps at mile 29.6.

We headed back to Cow Camp (more bacon) and then headed to the remote Bear Camp where supplies come in on horseback. From Bear Camp, we headed into the Little Bighorn Canyon which is beautiful during the day but we would miss it in the nite. It was around 9:30 and at that difficult dusk time. I had avoided candy and cookies all day as well as caffeine until the nite, but two hard falls on slippery rocks and logs around that time that wrenched my back and hips reminded me that I should get something in me that would sharpen my focus. I took some just in time for the big descent down the Haul (or the Wall, I get them confused). I followed an agile runner down this section and made it quicker than I thought.

It was dark by the time we reached our second big aid station, Footbridge. The river was raging and sounded angry in the dark. When I think back to this section, I realized it was where things went a little south and probably the part of the race I would choose to forget. My feet were wet and had been most of the day. I could feel hot spots that aspired to be blisters and there were a lot of people going up and down the mountain because it was the turnaround. Before climbing, we had to do this out and back on a rugged jeep road and I felt like I was going to get mugged here, just creepy. After that 3 mile out and back we changed shoes and headed up to the turnaround.

I was a little confused at this point *surprise* and thought it was only 4 miles to the turnaround. I saw these really fast people coming down and I thought, wow, we are in good shape. But then realized it was 4 miles to the next aid station and then another 4 miles (which really turned out to be a demoralizing 5.3 miles) to the turnaround. I saw Katherine on the way up coming down and running with Bushwhacker, she looked good. Saw Aaron looking stellar and Tom H. from Bozeman. Good to see friends and share a few words of encouragement.

At this point, I was with Linda from California who achieved mini-fame in our mind when we found out she could pee standing up and another couple of folks that came in and out of the pack. We got to the Narrows aid station and they were fun, fueled by a good story from me that I had promised I would tell Julie at 3:00am (good motivator). Then we did the climb up to Leaky Mountain and the turnaround. And believe you me, that f-ing mountain leaked, all over my shoes and the blisters started to form. It was a slog up, during the nite probably when you want to do slogs but so tough. Made up to the turnaround, had some soup, espresso gel and headed down with my sore feet. Ran partways down and again found the difference between me and people who finish 10 hours before me, a lot of walking.

Made it back to Footbridge and past the halfway point mile 63.9 and another medical check. Due to my bacon afflication, I was now up 3 lbs over my official weight, nothing like gaining weight during an ultra. It's always nice to be past the halfway point and on the slide down but really, you feel like shit and can't imagine how you are going to get home. Thoughts aside, it was time to climb back out of Dry Fork Drainage back to Bear Camp. Up to this point, Julie had encouraged me to go and I had refused but suddenly thought of a good goal that she would appreciate so I took off. The sun was up and I passed a good many people on the climb.

The 50 milers started to bomb down as I was finishing the climb and I took a bit of energy from each of them. Matt Hart came down first, then two guys I didn't know, then Damian Stoy, then friends Eric Taft, Kris Quandt and some others. They all smelled shower fresh and looked really clean. They gave me energy to keep going to Bear Camp where I was still leapfrogging with the Frenchies. I passed them and continued back to Cow Camp and my last brush with bacon. I also took a look at my feet which I tried to fix at Footbridge but they were not looking good. Big blisters on both forefoots and spreading. A nice ER doctor or nurse try to deal with them with derma something and some mole skin but the skin is so saturated, it didn't stick. So I loaded up and headed for the big climb up Rileys for the last time. It was heating up but other than my feet, I felt pretty good.

I saw Laurie Andrews on the ridgeline as I was headed up. I threw on the ipod for the climb for motivation. I only use an ipod when there is no one around to talk to and this was a good situation for it. I got to Laurie and her pacer and found her really sick. Intense cramping, nausea and lack of food and water since the nite had taken it's toll on her. I unloaded my pack and gave them ginger, gel and my rain poncho for a sunshade and took their handheld to call back to their crew from the top. I pushed on and hiked with a relaxing man named Gort who helped me with the instructions I was given for what to tell the people on the other end of the handheld. I don't really get sleepy during ultras, just really ditsy. Finally got someone on the two way and figured that all out and made it to the top.

From there, my recollection of the trail and the actual trail were vastly different. I felt like I walked forever on that ridgeline waiting for the downhill to take me back to Dry Fork. It was approximately mile 79 at the top and my feet were in bad shape. At this point, I thought I would be off the ridge by 25 hours, but 26 hours creeped up and past and I didn't get down until 26:30. I had some 30 minute miles on that ridgeline and I knew if my feet got worse, I could miss the cutoff or worse yet, get pulled at the finish. One of the big blisters popped on the descent and I was kicking the other one trying to get it to go but I wasn't sure what the best thing to do.

Finally got back down to Dry Fork and Kris's parents were a soothing presence. At the aid station, I had an old lady shake (generic ensure, no fiber) and then saw the beer. I had half a cup of beer along with the old lady shake and the combo made me throw up a little bit in my mouth. I was hurrying worried about the 34 hours cutoff. My feet were hamburger and I decided we weren't looking at them anymore. 18 miles to the finish, that was what was ahead of me on feet that really didn't want to work anymore. My heels had been in acute pain for at least 50 miles but it was the blisters that almost brought me to my knees. I thought of Julie behind with her blisters and kept going. Also, the frenchies were ahead of me as they had passed me on the ridgeline during my crybaby period.

This is where you realize that a 100 is at least three times as hard as a 50. I used every distraction trick I could think of, I thought of my family and friends and their love, I thought of the good energy of Sweatpants and Steve and my friend Cole, I sang and there was some more crying. And then I ran into a guy from Bozeman I remembered named Herbert. I met him at Targhee couple of years ago when he was running the 100 and me the 50. He said three things to me and I repeated those three things for at least 10 miles like a mantra:

I know you are hurting
The hard part is over
Now enjoy it.

I think acknowledging my pain was the greatest thing he could have done for me. It freed the brain lock that was only focusing on the pain and discomfort in every step. And while it didn't take it away, it helped. The frenchies passed me for the last time on a climb and this is where we made our euro/us connection and all I had to do was defer to them which is fine when your feeling kinda crappy and defeated. We discussed Mount Blanc (dream race), "very difficult" they kept saying and I asked them if they liked this course and they just shrugged (euro for not really). Then they went on. About 8 miles from the end, I ran into a guy that had some ankle issues so we limped and bitched to the Tongue River Trailhead. We didn't bother with names, we didn't really care. We shared few words but the company was better than our own minds. I got to the road and knew it was 5 miles to the finish. They sprayed us down, put ice in our bottles and pushed us out. This section sucked, I knew it did, it always does and I was living for the last aid station, which has popsicles, lots of love and sometimes wine. The nice lady there gave me a grape popsicle, some coke and then she filled my handheld with ice and coke.

At this point, I was moving at about 25 minute miles and people were passing me a lot. I couldn't even acknowledge them and that's a rarity for me on the trail. The road went on and on, I kept looking for the bridge signaling the end of the road section. I couldn't walk because that rubbed the blisters more, I couldn't run because that just wasn't an option so I had that bad old lady ultrashuffle that really feels like you are going backwards. I tried to practice a smile but they weren't coming. I wanted the end real bad. Finally, finally I see the nice traffic girls who held traffic for me as I sorely crossed, then short sidewalk to the park and a gravel track. I heard the bagpipes, heard my friend Jenn who did the 50k cheering for me and ran to the finish banner. I will attach pictures that Kris took at the finish because I think it speaks volumes.

I tried to soak in the river but couldn't stand up. Kris and Julie were there and laid me down, took off my shoes and immediately took pictures of my gross feet like any good friend would do. I laid on the riverbank and convulsed for a bit under a blanket. I couldn't really talk or form real sentences for a while. This behaviour worried Julie, who stopped at mile 75 with her blisters but Kris had scene worst carnage than me. I wondered how I was going to get back to my tent because the 200 yard walk seemed impossible. I ate two bites of hamburger and managed to get down some recoverite and shook for a while.

Became human again and talked to Ty Draney who pulled out a phenomenal sub 20 performance for third overall. All my 50 mile friends did so well. Scott Griffith from Afton was 7th in 9:18, Eric Taft was 8th in 9:24 and Kris, in his first 50 was 13th in 9:49, Kim Taft in 10:50 as the 7th woman. And my friend Jenn Staph, who trained so hard for this and cried probably as much as I did on the trail finished proudly in 14:46 and is probably still wearing her finishers shirt. Results are here

I did make it back to the campground aided by my friends. I drank a beer and ate little. Remembered to call my worried parents and sister to let them know I was okay. I didn't sleep well or at all that nite, mostly just twitched. My feet were bad but not as bad as I thought but walking was defintely an issue, the blisters about the size of half a credit card. I peed outside the tent that nite and maybe a little inside too.

We woke and broke down camp and headed into Sheridan for the pancake breakfast, yum. I asked for extra pork products and we sat with the Oregon folks. I went to check the times and heard my name called. I was third in my age group and got this kickass rock with the race info burned in it. My time was no third place time but lucky me, I am still in the 30-39 age group and have one more year before I am throw in with the lions of 40-49. These women are truly mortifying to me. They have absolutely no limit on their threshold for pain. They have had multiple children and probably tied off the umbilical cords with their teeth. terrifying. But I was pysched to have an award, the buckles were sick - skateboarder style with wood and of course, the finishing jers. I have to say the Bighorn is up there for swag, top 5 at least.

So I filled my belly and we headed for some coffee. Ran into Marie and Kevin some folks we had run with during the nite and they had both finished. Kris and Julie were headed for some more camping but I had to get home. I wasn't going to make the kennel hours to pick up Scoobie but I had to work Monday. I got to the top of Burgess Junction and was hit with exhaustion so extreme I almost drove off the road. So I pulled off on a beautiful camping road and took an hour nap with the bird quietly chirping. Felt much better after and drove on. I only got tired again in Yellowstone but was only an hour and a half from home so I toughed it out. I saw a beautiful grizzly male on the side of the road digging for grub, so gorgeous and also got within three feet of a buffalo who wanted to go down the yellow line and more power to him. I love buffalo with their leg warmer fur around their ankles and their enormous heads.

Finally back through the Tetons and I went the inner park road to enjoy the view. It was that perfect time of the evening when the light is right and it feels like both the animals and the humans are settling down for the nite. Got home around 8:30 and dragged everything inside where it still sits. Made some mac and cheese with tuna for dinner and went to bed.

My feet are healing, I walked with my friend today with the dogs and my legs feel great. I iced the stovepipes in the creek twice and that felt good but the swelling up again and I need to put them up. I think recovery will be easier than my last 100 which was almost 4 hours faster because my legs feel relatively fresh. And that's good because I have Devils Backbone in 3 weeks in Bozeman. This race is so amazing, run by Tom and Liz McGoff-Hayes and there are still spots open in the relay of 25 miles each. Here's the website.


Good luck to my friends running Western States this week, not jealous of you at all. Keep cool in the canyons and run the last part (that's just what I hear). Steve, I will be thinking of you hammering it out with Olga, do what she tells you.