First let me say I have the BEST friends: Tony and his wife (Betty) from Canby, OR; Cheri (who gives unselfishly) and Karl (who knew what I needed from 1800 miles away.) A race is never really run on your own. It takes the support of many people whether or not you are going solo with no crew/pacers or not, many people helped you get to the start line. Much of this is about the trip – if you want just race stuff skip down to the side title “The Race.” J
Before the Race
Cheri & I decided to drive to Oregon. It’s about an 1800 mile drive. We left Wednesday morning just after 6:00 am. To fill our time we had books on tape to listen to in between chatting about an array of topics. The drive through Nebraska was uneventful…ok WHAT is that arch on I-80??? It’s a Monument to the West… bizarre! We drove through Wyoming (large quantities of vast nothingness) and into Utah. The mountains in Utah are beautiful and very secluded. I completely understand why the Mormon’s went there to hide. There so little out there that many of the exits only say “Ranch Exit” – it’s just a place to get off the highway to a ranch – no streets, roads or other highways – just the ranch. Very desolate. We spent the night in Brigham City, Utah after driving approximately 17 hours straight. Cheri did ALL the driving. The next morning we were on our way by 7:00 am local time. We had the advantage of the time zone changes driving out. It allowed for longer driving in daylight.
We headed into Idaho – pretty but not much stands out. I dozed somewhere before getting to Boise. We grabbed something to eat there and headed back out. Oregon is next on the highway. We made into Oregon and had a blast making fun of the signs. A sign will simply say “Wind” – uhh… that means “Strong winds possible” or “Dust” – lots of blowing dust. And then, there are “Rocks” – you know “Falling Rocks Ahead” J It was great! At our first stop to fill up the car, we both got out. (We took turns paying for gas and it was my turn.) To our surprise there was a gas attendant. He took my card while we were all standing there and filled Cheri’s car. She commented about having someone pump her gas and the man said “this is Oregon.” We later learned that it is illegal to pump your own gas in Oregon. It has been on the ballot to remove the law and it fails on the rationale that it provides jobs (although very low paying ones.) The guy cleaned the windshield and then we were off. The eastern half of Oregon is “hilly” but its almost desert like. The land has been stripped of most vegetation and it’s very dry. Hence, the “Dust” signs!
We eventually made it to the Columbia River. It meanders along providing a division between Washington and Oregon. As it ducked in and out the terrain began to change to the lush coniferous trees. It was quite pretty. As we got closer to our turnoff we rounded a corner. The only thing I could say was “Holy cow” – standing in the distance in a stately presence was Mt. Hood. She dominates the landscape. It was stunning. We drove through some small towns once we took our turnoff. We had a blast with those signs too! One said “Congestion” …ummm… we are in No Man’s Land, Oregon! Congestion meant 5 driveways in a row! Hysterical!!! We made it to Clackamas Lake that afternoon and set up camp. Ok – Cheri set up camp and I did what she told me to! We went into Government Camp and had dinner. I called my friend Tony and we made arrangements to meet Friday. He would show us around Mt. Hood. The weather is beautiful during the day but the temps drop into the low 50’s at night.
Friday we drove something called The Loop. Tony, Betty and their 6 yr old grandson, Darion, met us in Government Camp. Being a “local” and a Geography teacher in a middle school, Tony knows a ton of information about the area. We had a personal tour guide. We went first to Timberline Lodge. The lodge is pretty cool; a WPA project from 1937. It’s where they filmed “The Shining.” After seeing the lodge we went out back. Tony explained the Glacier and how it changes over the years. Some years it’s very close to the lodge. It’s kind of surreal to stand on snow in July with shorts on and watch skiers! We left Timberline and Tony showed us Trillium Lake. That’s the lake you see on many of the pictures of Mt. Hood. The water is a toasty 35°!! We took some pictures and then started The Loop. The intent was to take us through the entire loop – we ran out of time. But we did go to Hood River where we had lunch and then traveled along the Columbia River. We stopped at Bonneville Dam. We watched fish swim up the fish ladder. At this point Tony and Betty decided we would get stuck in Portland traffic and so we returned to camp. This gave us time to go to packet pickup. Tony wanted information on where the aid stations were so that they could meet us along the race. After getting the information they were on their way back home. We would see them Saturday sometime.
The Race
I won’t lie to you here. I do not remember details of races like many people do. They happen and then they are over. I will give you what I remember!
I woke up about 4:15 on Saturday morning – too early to get up so I decided to lie in bed for awhile. It was colder Friday night! I got my stuff together and ready to leave. We had filled the bladders for my Camelbak before bed Friday night and put them in the cooler. We got to the start about 5:20 and I checked in. Runners were instructed to bring a flashlight if we were taking the early start. We started at 5:30 after receiving instructions from the race directors. We left the grounds of the ranger station and started on pavement. This allowed us to stretch out and not be bunched up as we made a quick U-turn before heading into the woods. It turned out that I didn’t need my flashlight so I zipped it into my pocket and forgot about it.
As we went into the woods I was running with another lady. She said this was her 2nd 50 miler. She had done Mt. Hood last year. “I’ve learned from last years race” was all she ever said. She moved ahead about a mile in. Somewhere in the next couple miles I started running with the fellow who had been in front of me. He had stopped for awhile and then caught back up. We talked a bit about the places we run at home. He was from Tennessee and trained on trails in the Smokey Mtns. This was his first 50 miler. As we neared the first aid station (Little Crater Lake) we ran over bridges and wooden walking paths. This area was pretty “marshy” and the wooden paths were only wide enough for one person. As you passed a runner leaving the aid station one of us had to get off the path onto the soft ground. The water was beautiful! So clear… Cheri was waiting for me at the aid station and at 6 miles into the race I was fine. All I could think was at least it’s not 90° with 93% humidity. This was an AWESOME way to run a race. The weather was perfect. The next aid station was 3 miles away. This was pretty uneventful. I got to the station, had a banana piece, talked to Cheri and left. Her job was to not let me hang out too long. She was doing great!
Somewhere in here I really forget the order of things. I was running along by myself when the regular start people began to pass me. Slightly demoralizing but I know I’m slower – that’s why I took the early start. Most of the trail is single track but can be up to about 4 feet wide. It’s not very technical but the few rocks that are there come altogether. I’m starting to feel the weight of my Camelbak (it has 2 liters of water and 2 liters of Perpetuem mixed with gel in it.) Because I’m now in mostly single track, as a runner passes me I have to step off the trail and wait for them to go by. This is the courteous thing to do but can be frustrating when you are already slow. After awhile I hear a voice in the woods. I know that voice and I know it will pass me soon! It’s Bad Ben Holmes! He’s running with Danny Miller. (Danny is going to run across Kansas in the spring of 2009.) Ben stops and gives me a hug along with a forecast of the next few miles. Damn! It’s mostly uphill! When I get to the 3rd aid station I’m greeted with Thongs! Yep – that’s what I said. It was hysterical! There were thongs hanging from the trees, on signs, volunteers’ heads! One of the girls commented about my running skirt and then showed me the thong under her skirt – don’t get excited boys it was over the compression shorts underneath! Before coming into this aid station we had to cross a highway. There were volunteers with flags to act as crossing guards each had a thong for a “hat.” I didn’t see Cheri right away but I saw her car so I knew she was there somewhere. As I was getting ready to describe her to the thong-wearing volunteer, Cheri came down the path. She checked on me and at this point I was still basically ok. I was slow but always making “forward progress.”
I ran out of the aid station to more thongs decorating the woodlands. It was a gradual uphill. Not bad but still uphill. Shortly I was passed by another runner. This time, however, the runner was coming towards me. Holy cheese fries! Is he coming back already??? A woman was not much farther behind him. Very demoralizing. “Am I really that slow???” But I trod on… constant forward motion. I later learn that they only went to the 4th aid station at the base of the mountain.
When I’m not running it’s power-walking. I’m doing a lot of power-walking at this point. And the gradual uphill becomes much steeper. The good news - as I consume what’s in the Camelbak, it becomes lighter. It’s still heavy though. I also start to get to more sun. It’s hot when it’s beating on you. It is in this section that I learned what the term “bonk” means. I was miserable. The scenery was beautiful but I was hurting and had zero energy. I would later learn exactly why. It’s a steep uphill followed by a relatively steep downhill. When I was at the top I passed a volunteer with a sack of flour. He was remarking the course and said to me “only about a mile to aid station 4” – that helped. But I had slowed considerably – oh and my Garmin couldn’t even tell me how long I had been out. It was busy “locating satellites.” I had gone through a variety of emotions at this point. I knew I could not sit even though I wanted to – it would serve no purpose. More runners are beginning to pass me heading back. As they go by, they all say things like “good job,” “keep it up,” “looking good,” you know the language. In my head I’m thinking “easy for you to say – you will make the cutoffs.” I start to cry. I’m stubborn enough to not let anyone see it as they pass. I must have looked pretty bad though. I was all but beaten.
I make to the Barlow Pass aid station (#4) and see Cheri. She looks concerned but is very supportive. The volunteer says “Number 6 (that’s me) I was looking for you.” I’m concerned now. “Am I taking too long?” I say to myself. I asked how long I have been out. “5 hours 10 min”…ummm… it’s only 20 miles in… not so good. I tell Cheri that I have never felt this bad after a marathon. Again, she looks concerned but says something nice and sends on my way. I turn around… “Will you call Dane?” She says yes and I’m gone. I have to cross another highway and head up.
This time it’s really up! I’m beat. I’m miserable. I don’t care. I want quit. The full gamut of emotions. I had started very determined. I have an hour and 20 minutes to go 5.9 miles. I can do that. I can’t run it at this point but I can walk strong. Oops then there’s snow. And it’s slick. Enough runners have gone through that the pile covering the trail is squishy on top mixed with mud. Great. Ok – I can still do this. Again runners passing me going down. Same words of encouragement but my negative feelings are starting to become strong. All I wanted to do was get to the top and be done. Like really done. I had no intention of coming back down. I have to traverse the step uphill (I’m heading up Mt. Hood at this point), climb over downed trees (scrapping knees and inner thighs) and there is still snow. The path is not covered in snow but the patches when they occur are large enough to slow down a person with no energy. Did I mention that was me? I continue up the mountain thinking I can’t stop because Karl will kill me. I can’t stop because Cheri would not get to run back down. I can’t stop because I didn’t ride in a car for 2 days over 1800 miles to DNF. I can’t stop because Tony and Betty have come out to support me. I just want to stop.
Eventually I get closer to the top and as I am nearing the last pile of snow in the woods, I see Ben Holmes again. He says “Take a left after the snow and you’re there.” Phew! I’m close and I will make the halfway cutoff for 13 hours. Oh yeah… “almost there” means a mile in sand. Yuck. The tears begin again. It’s bad this time. I don’t give a damn what anyone thinks. I’m done at the top. And I can barely get there. It takes me almost 2 full hours to do these 5.9 miles. I spend at least 45 minutes in the sand. It SUCKS. However, I start to pass a few people in the sand. This means if I stay in I won’t be “DAL” – Dead Ass Last. Hmmm… nope I’m done… Then a gentleman (Bill) runs with me in the sand for a bit. He offers to take my Camelbak to the top to lighten the load. Very nice. I decline however, it was my choice to use it and I accept the consequences of carrying it.
As I go over one really bad section of – you guessed it – snow, I pass Dave. Dave stays close and we talk as we go along. I slowly pull ahead. I get to the parking lot of Timberline Lodge finally. This has sucked. Cheri is there and hands me a wet washcloth. Man that feels good! I’m miserable. The first thing she says is “Karl says you will regroup and be fine.” “Did you tell him I cried most of the last 6 miles?” “No, because I didn’t know that and I talked to Dane. He said he loves you.” The volunteer (in Ironman plaid short) was phenomenal. I don’t remember exactly the order but things went something like this. “Do you need your water filled?” “No” “Do you need some food?” “I don’t know.” “What do you need?” “I don’t know.” “Let’s just take that pack off and I’ll put cold water in it anyway. Give you a break from it while you drink some coke.” Cheri had handed me coke. She had been told to do a number of things for me at the aid station. Caffeine was something I needed. I just didn’t know. Karl knew from half way across the country. I was in bad shape. The gal & Cheri take my Camelbak. As the volunteer opens the back to get to the bladders she exclaims, “Honey, you are not getting your electrolytes!” “Yes I am” I say obstinately. “NO – you aren’t” and she shows me the bladder. At this point, if anyone would have asked, I would have bet all my worldly possessions that I was more than halfway into the Perpetuem. I was drinking often. I looked down to see that I had not consumed even a quarter of it! WOW – no wonder I feel bad and have no energy. I have bonked. And now... I know that it means.
The feed me peanut butter and jelly sandwich, banana and more coke. Cheri joins me. I’m feeling much better as we head back to the trail. I’m going to make it and maybe I can get down faster than I went up. Seems logical, right? We stop after getting out of the sand and clean out our shoes, socks and dust off our feet. There was a downed tree nicely laying across the path for us to sit on! Life is getting better and my mood has improved. Cheri set her watch to beep every 10 minutes. I don’t know why she did that but I chose to make sure that when I heard the alarm I would consume fuel. This helped tremendously. She questions me about fueling and I tell her what I’m doing. It’s working.
Basically going down is much better. Not really much to say. We see Tony at the Thong aid station. They are out of coke and I want caffeine. He has some Lipton tea in the car and runs to get it while Cheri grabs my drop bag. I’m still eating bananas at each aid station. My drop bag has a bottle with HEED powder in it. I switch to that after filling the bottle with cold water. We continue on with me drinking every 10 minutes. At the next aid station they have Coke. GREAT!!! It is now my new favorite ultra beverage! It might have been psychological at this point but I’m happy with my progress. We miss Tony here because he has taken Cheri’s car key and gone to get her car. Betty drove it to the camp. As we leave the aid station I asked Cheri to change her timer to 5 minutes. I’m going to do a run 5/walk 5 as the terrain allows. I’m tired. Oh and did I pass off my Camelbak since I’m not using it any longer??? Uh… NO that would have made sense!
Tony meets us at last aid station. When I get there to retrieve my drop bag – it’s gone! They’ve taken them all back to the start. I’m not happy but I understand that runners are waiting for their bags. They are serving HEED on the course so the volunteer fills my bottle. Tony asks how we are doing. Fine…No problems other than I’m tired. That last for maybe 2 miles. I say to Cheri “my foot feels like it did before the run at SMP” – for those that don’t know, I actually sprained my foot back in October on a Monday morning. We ran Tuesday evening at SMP and that’s when I broke it. This does not look good. It hurts with every step and is getting worse. I’m starting to cry again. I only had 6 miles from the aid station to go. It takes forever. I can barely walk. I firmly believe at this point that it’s broken again. How am I going to explain that to Karl? The sweep catches up to us with less than a mile to go. He stays with us until we are on pavement again. He goes on “to announce our arrival.” I cross the line and Olga is there to hand out a hug. I cry one more time. I’m done.
It was incredibly hard when it shouldn’t have been. I made mistakes and have learned from them. I will do it again and next time it will be under 12 hours!
After the Race
Tony helps us get to the creek so that we can get into it. The water – a toasty 35°! It was my intention to go in to my waist, or rather, sit down in it. I can barely walk my foot hurts so much. Cheri and Tony are helping me. I stand in the cold water for only about 3 minutes. It already burns – it’s really cold! We get back in the car and drive to camp.
Betty has made us dinner. I’m here to tell you it was the best! We had salmon cooked on the grill, a squash/zucchini vegetable cooked on the grill and a sun-dried tomato, parmesan pasta salad! WOW – you couldn’t get something this good in a restaurant! For dessert there was a raspberry, chocolate pie with whipped cream. I told you at the beginning – I have the BEST friends! After waiting 2 hours past when I would have thought I should be done. This is what was in store for Cheri and I.
Again, races are run by runners but they can’t be run without the support of so many people. It’s not just the race directors and volunteers. It’s the people who are closest to you. Without their support a race isn’t possible – be it the time to train along the way or the support they give on race day. As we thank volunteers we need to remember to thank our primary support system. So …
Thank you Tony and Betty for staying all day and providing a wonderful meal.
Thank you Cheri for driving, being at every aid station and bringing me back down.
Thank you Karl for your knowledge while training and for knowing how to help me when I needed it.
And mostly, Thank you Dane. Training takes much of my time and you are always gracious in allowing me that time.
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