One week ago today, I was at a pre-race meeting in preparation for my second Tahoe Rim Trail 50 Mile Endurance Run. The weather was cool, the energy was high, and in 12 hours I would be back in the woods on the trail that I love so much. To be honest, I've been in a little bit of a post-race depression this week having experienced the highest of highs only to return to reality and a job and laundry. I want to share my experiences, but I want the emotion of the day to come across... not the blues that I succumb to when I come down off cloud 9.
There is truly not an event that I cherish and look forward to as much as the Tahoe 50 miler. I love to be out all day, on the trails, in nature, with other people who enjoy it as much as I do. Any endurance event provides opportunities to challenge oneself. But when you do it for no other reason than enjoyment, it makes it all the more special. There are no crowds cheering. There are no spectators. There's no one at the finish line to congratulate you. Just a handful of the best volunteers on the planet, and your fellow trail runners by your side (or miles and miles ahead and behind you).
This year, my race plan for the TRT 50 miler was a little different than last year. Last year, it was my first 50 miler, and I wanted to finish. Mission accomplished. This year, I wanted to feel good, I wanted to take care of my nutrition, and I wanted to be a little bit faster. I also wanted to help my sister get past the Red House Loop which was her undoing last year. So I planned to stay with her through mile 18 and then let the chips fall where they may.
So sit back, grab a mug of your favorite coffee, and let's journey through the Tahoe Rim Trail Ultra...
Race morning began with a 4 AM wake-up call, not that I slept much on Friday night. I wasn't nervous as much as excited and anxious to begin. We got ready and drove to Spooner Junction to park and take the shuttle to the start line. We thought we were early, but it turns out we arrived just in time... within 5 minutes the line for the shuttle was a hundred yards long. We got to the staging area, finished our last minute preparations, and got in line seconds before the start gun.
Enter: mistake #1: No breakfast. Breakfast seems like a no-brainer when you're about to be on the trail for 16 hours. But Friday night getting into South Lake Tahoe, where we were staying, was a disaster. And the parking situation at the hotel was even more of a disaster, so rather than fight valet to go back into traffic to hit the grocery store, I decided to just bag it for the night and get to bed. I had a stash of bars and thought I'd just grab one in the morning. Race morning was a little frenzied and I ended up not eating anything until about two minutes before 6 AM. And my 180 calorie Picky Bar didn't last me long.
Start line to Hobart; 6 miles
The first 4 miles switchback up into the mountains, and then bomb down to Marlette Lake, circling it en route to the first aid station, Hobart. We stayed in the back of the pack, power hiking the hills and took advantage of the downhill to stretch our legs. I allowed my sister to lead after she expressed some frustration in trying to keep up with me during the power hike. I'm pretty sure I'm part mountain goat, and when I feel good I can really hike up hills at a good clip. We were early in the day, and there was no reason to expend too much energy in the first 10 miles so I was happy to follow her lead.
We cruised through Hobart, joking with the "devil" (one of the many costumed volunteers) that was greeting runners on our way in. My sis told him to "go to hell!" Which he generously responded to with an offer to show us a bit of "hell" in the woods, making us laugh. You'd never have that kind of raunchy exchange at a marathon. Here, having a sense of humor is a must. We grabbed a little snack, a cup of fluids and took off as quickly as we entered.
Enter: my favorite part of the trail part 1: Hobart to Tunnel Creek, 5 miles
I love, love, love the 5 mile stretch of trail from Hobart to TC. You start out climbing a little hill at the top of which you drop into a gorgeous meadow (cue: Sound of Music) overlooking Lake Tahoe and Marlette Lake. It is unbelievably gorgeous. And so, so nice to run through. You leave the meadow and re-enter the woods to explore what I like to call 'the boulder fields'. A smoking fast, twisting, turning, switchbacking downhill littered with boulders of all size. You can literally fly through the woods. My arms are out like airplane wings, I'm dodging obstacles, all while wearing the hugest, cheesiest grin on my face. At the bottom, is the main aid station, Tunnel Creek.
Having practiced my descending skills I arrived a TC a minute or two before my sister so I took the opportunity to fill my pack, drop my arm warmers and gloves into my drop bag, and grab a snack. Standing in front of the food table, a fellow runner approaches me with the following compliment: "After 10 miles on the trail, you have the best legs I've seen all day." I laughed and thanked him. An out of the blue compliment like that can lift your spirits for the rest of the day. My sister arrived and quickly made the decision to leave her pack at the aid station and run Red House Loop with her hand-held water bottle. A good decision, given the amount of climbing we had and the fact that she was most nervous about this section.... she didn't need the added weight on her shoulders. Literally.
Red House Loop, 6 miles
The first mile or so of Red House Loop is rough. It's an extremely steep, technical downhill. It is quad-searing, ankle-breakingly steep. I tried not to brake too much, but it was impossible for me to just free fall. I guess I still need a little work on the descending. Once at the bottom, the loop gradually undulates back up hill over 4 miles. There are some pretty good inclines in the middle. Surrounding the aid station in the middle of the loop is a good runable section. I enjoyed this part of the trail, taking it at my own pace, before stopping at the base of the final climb to wait for my sister.
I tried to talk her through it, distract her. What I remember from last year is that though the climb is steep, it was over before I knew it. That was not her experience last year, and she was very worried about how she'd feel at the top. I hope I helped. I'm not sure, but when we made it out she did say it wasn't as bad as she had remembered. And she looked great! She had stayed on top of her nutrition and hydration and was in good spirits.
We got back to the aid station, and I was anxious to start the longest section of trail from Tunnel Creek to Diamond Peak. She pulled out her cell to update her safety runner (who would be meeting her at DP) and so I took the opportunity to bid her happy trails. I told her she looked great, she was fine, and I'd see her later. For a brief moment, she looked worried, but I knew she would get to DP if she didn't talk herself out of it.
Tunnel Creek to Diamond Peak, 13 miles
I set off down the trail en route to Diamond Peak via Bull Wheel. Bull Wheel is a brief water stop three miles out of Tunnel Creek, and the last place to fill up before the 9 mile stretch of trail to DP. I stopped long enough to top off the water, and continued on knowing I had about 4-5 miles of climbing before a long descent to the lodge. I was starting to feel hungry and my legs were killing me. Every step felt like I was carrying lead bricks on my feet. I took in some extra calories and salt in the way of my rice and soy sauce mixture. And I finished off my gel flask. I was never so happy to see the sign indicating the left hand turn that would put me on the trail heading down.
It took a while to loosen up, but eventually it felt better to be running that walking and I cruised down the trail. This is one of two long sections that can be run in it's entirety. I kept watching my time, knowing it would take me less than an hour to run this section. I kept waiting for the first sign of civilization to appear. I waited and waited to see rooftops which would mean I was in Incline Village and near the Diamond Peak Lodge. Finally, they appeared. I smiled and let out a little 'whoop' of joy.
Running down the asphalt, I saw KM who would be running with my sister the final 20 miles. I waved her over and she walked with me into the aid station. I borrowed her phone and called my husband just to let him know I was feeling great and moving well. Much the opposite of last year where he had to talk me into continuing, he was thrilled to hear that I was having a great day. I approached the table to fill my pack and I hear, "Legs! You made it!" I grinned and confirmed to my admirer that I had, indeed, made it. I was having so much fun. Just really soaking in everything that I was too scared to enjoy last year.
I sat for a moment to change my socks. My feet were filthy from the trails as the area hasn't received much rain this year and it was much dustier than usual. I brushed them off best as I could and then replaced my running shoes onto my tired feet. I swapped out my food, tossing the empty bags of rice and filling my pack with one very large pickle and a baggie of sugar coated gummy orange slices. I grabbed a can of Pepsi from the aid station and started the trek up the hill.
Enter: a taste of Hell: Diamond Peak to Bull Wheel, 2 miles
I know that it is supposedly Red House Loop that earns the badge "Taste of Hell" in the TRT motto, but in my opinion, this badge belongs solely to the two mile stretch from Diamond Peak to Bull Wheel. Climbing, in the sand, up grades of 20-30% on the slopes of a black diamond ski run I began to have hot flashes and for the first time of the day, struggled to put one foot in front of the other. With each step forward, I slid backwards a half step. It was a trudgingly slow climb. I chatted with other runners on the early part of the climb but as the grades got steeper, my ability to talk diminished. I paused briefly, twice, to rest in the shade of a random tree. Other than those two spots, the trail was completely exposed and the mid-afternoon sun was beating down on us.
Last year, I arrived back at Tunnel Creek (3 miles from Bull Wheel) in a really bad place. I was dizzy and weak. Dehydrated and hypoglycemic. This time around, I made the decision to stop at Bull Wheel to rest for 10-20 minutes, rehydrate and take in some calories before continuing. I knew that those precious few minutes could make or break my rest of the day. I finished the climb 10 minutes faster than last year, despite feeling like I was getting nowhere fast. I was happy to sit on a rock and soak in what I had accomplished so far. There were a handful of other runners doing the same thing. I ate my pickle and had a taste of Red Ale from the brewery in Carson City (have I mentioned how awesome the volunteers are?!!). Within 10 minutes, I had caught my breath and felt recovered enough to continue on my way.
Bull Wheel to Tunnel Creek, 3 miles
When you look at the map, this is supposedly downhill. This was not my experience, though after 32 miles any small incline would probably look like a mountain to me. I ran/ hiked back to Tunnel Creek feeling only a little wobbly on my way in. I think my biggest struggle now was staying on top of my sugar. I needed more calories. I rested for about 10 minutes at Tunnel Creek before hitting the part of the trail that I dread the most.
Taste of Hell, part deux: Tunnel Creek to Hobart, 5 miles
Remember those glorious 5 miles downhill through the boulder fields? Yep. I had to climb back up them. Every last step. This is the longest stretch of continuous climbing and is relentless. I tried taking in some calories every 15 minutes but after about 45 minutes, my stomach was rebelling and I wanted to throw up. My legs were heavy and every step was painful. I had lead coursing through my veins in place of oxygenated blood. I stopped several times to rest on a boulder for a minute, trying to elevate my legs as much as possible. I knew that once I got to Hobart, I was home free. I just needed to get there. The positive side to this stretch, silver lining if you will, is that it's entirely within the woods so I no longer had the sun beating down on me. My hot flashes were fewer and farther between as I tried to improve my hydration status.
I was never so happy to reach the open meadow knowing I only had another mile or so to get to the aid station. There was a medic on a mountain bike at the top of the swithbacks and he asked me how I was doing. "OK," I responded. "Just OK?" "Yep, just OK," I smiled to let him know he didn't need to worry about me... I was going to make it. Despite being in a bad place, I never had any doubt that I was going to finish.
Finally, Hobart came into view and I only had a brief half mile run down the hill to reach it. There was full on carnage at Hobart. Runners in various states of disarray. I was happy to take a spot in one of the many camping chairs they had set out. I let the volunteers bring me coke, water and broth (yeah, salt!). When I first arrived, though totally coherent, my words were slightly slurred, an indication that my sugar was low. After resting for about 8 minutes, 2 cokes, broth and 2 waters I felt great again and ready to move on. Homeward bound!!
Hobart to Snow Valley Peak, 3 miles
I love this little stretch of trail. It winds you gradually uphill through the woods and then with about a mile to go, dumps you into an open grassy field with incredible views of the lake. This section, so I'm told, is the "Glimpse of Heaven" in the TRT motto. I'd buy that. I think the view are just as amazing above Hobart, but you can't beat sunset over Lake Tahoe from 9000 feet which is what you get approaching Snow Valley Peak. I knew that I'd see the little signs from the boy scouts, and that when they told me I had "1 mile to go" I needn't panic because it was less than that. I kept making great progress uphill and actually passed about 5 people during this stretch. I arrived at SVP Aid Station and put my feet up while taking in one last cup of broth and some coke before my final few miles. We were all in good spirits at this point, with only 7 miles to go. We could smell the barn, we were almost home.
Enter: my favorite bit of trail part 2: Snow Valley Peak to Finish Line, 7 miles
Why is it that my favorite parts of the trail are downhill? I guess because I can run them! As much as I enjoy the scenery, and hiking, I have to admit that I'd love to be able to (some day) run an entire 50 miles. I just don't think this is the course for me for that goal.
So the final 7 miles starts with a bit more climbing as you wrap around the mountain. After about a mile of jumping over rocks and dodging bushes along the trail, we are dumped, once again, into the woods for the final switchback down the mountain. Another runner and I had been going back and forth for a short time, me passing on the ups, him passing on the downs. Finally we got into a groove and began to work together to fly over the last 6 miles.
He jumped in behind me and chatted easily while I set the pace. We flew. I seriously thought we were pounding out 8 minute miles. I had to laugh out loud later when I looked at my Garmin results and realized that my fastest mile (mile 49) was run at a 9:30 pace. Regardless, we covered this stretch in amazing time. When I left SVP I thought maybe I'd finish somewhere around 14 hours, 15 minutes. One hour faster than last year. As we ticked off miles and the finish line got closer, and closer, I realized that we were going to finish well under 14 hours. This spurred me on to go faster.
Hitting the final, relatively flat, mile I was on cruise control. The sun was out. A few family members had wandered down the trail waiting for their respective runners. And the finish line tent came into view. I put my hands in the air and blew a kiss to anyone watching. Victorious, I crossed the line in 13 hours, 51 minutes and 15 seconds. I couldn't have been more thrilled.
I had lost my fellow runner over the final half mile, so I waited for him to come through to high five and thank him for helping get me in under 14 hours. We were both exhausted and happy to be finished. His wife was there to greet him and I left in search of food while they relived the day.
The down side to stopping at the end of a race is that when you're no longer moving, the lactic acid and blood pools in your legs and is the worst pain you've ever felt. Having just run 5 of my fastest miles of the day, I was now reduced to hobbling, wincing with every step. I made my way up to the tent marking the half way point for the 100 milers. I found an empty picnic table and sat down, trying to elevate my legs a little. A volunteer went off in search of a coke for me, and another runner sent her boyfriend to get me some food. I was a sad sight, I'm sure. I couldn't imagine starting another loop.
After a few bites of tortilla (I couldn't bring myself to actually eat the burrito) and some watermelon, I hobbled back down to the 50 mile finish. I sat in the warmth of the first aid tent to change into dry clothes and called my husband. I told him about the race and shared some of the details of the day. He congratulated me and told me how proud he was of me. He told me that he had heard from KM when they were at Hobart. I let out another whoop of joy! She had made it past the hardest parts, and was somewhere in the final 10 miles. She was going to make it!!
I moved my sorry self into the finish line tent and took up residence in one of the camping chairs, propping my legs up in an adjacent one. I had on every ounce of clothing that I had left in my drop bag but I was still shivering. At 8:30 PM I got a text from my sister saying they were in the final 7 miles. I was counting down the minutes! I loved watching people finish. Some had safety runners with them, some had family waiting. Some, like me, were all alone and graciously took their plaque and moved on in search of food and warm clothes. One guy came across the finish wearing a T-shirt that proclaimed "do epic shit." I love it. That's what we're all out here doing. Epic shit. When 10 PM was nearing, I asked a couple of guys who had just finished if they happened to see a couple of blond girls on the trail. They described my sister perfectly and told me that she was making good time and would definitely be in before the 10:30 PM cutoff.
I closed my eyes and snuggled deeper into my chair and before I knew it, they appeared. My sister crossed the finish line, after 50 miles, in 16 hours and 9 minutes. An epic day. I jumped up (well, as much as anyone 'jumps' after 50 miles on their legs) and enveloped her in a big hug. She shed a few tears of joy and I told her I'd never been more proud of anything. The mental demons that she had to overcome to get to the finish line are a much larger obstacle than the actual distance.
Looking back on the day, I merely have to close my eyes to be back on the trail. I can hear the wind in the trees and smell the fresh air. I can feel the heat of the sun on my neck as I climb out of Diamond Peak. I can feel the burn in my legs as I run. I love the Tahoe Rim Trail 50 Mile Endurance Run. I have always said that it will be my first 100 miler. No, it won't be next year. And maybe not the year after that. But I will be back, and I will take on the full distance. I will walk through Hell, twice. I will glimpse Heaven, twice. I will cover the distance and be twice as delirious, twice as tired, and twice as thankful when I am done.
2 comments:
so proud of you two. Maybe one day we will experience Heaven and Hell twice together!!!
Nice read! Definately an epic day to do epic shit!
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