“When you see grown men crying at the finish, you know you’re doing something that is important,” said Western States Board President Tim Twietmeyer at the start of the awards ceremony on Sunday after the 2009 WS 100 Mile Endurance Run. I imagine it sounds corny or ironic to some that a 100 mile run can be important as it is just a recreational activity, but I wholeheartedly agree with Tim. It is important. Western States strips you down to your core and reveals your character whether you exceed your expectations, struggle to a less than stellar finish, or drop. Many start the race full of strength, hope, desire, but somewhere out there on the trail find themselves just completely exposed physically, emotionally, and psychologically. And it’s in those dark testing moments when you’re puking, exhausted, or your feet are just trashed that you find out something about yourself. How you interact with your competitors, aid station volunteers, crew and pacers, and dare I say yourself in those moments reveals your true character. There is nowhere to hide.
This was my 6th WS as a runner. Many of you know that my connection to the race started 30+ years ago as a young kid who lived in Cool. I’ve crewed, paced, or worked at aid stations for most of those other 24 years. I love the trail, the history, the people, the energy, the hype, the competition, the camaraderie, etc. I love putting it all out there myself, but I also love watching others do it for the first or 25th time. This year it seemed like I had more invested in others’ races—maybe even more than my own. Can you believe that Oregon had the most starters of any state (24) save California? There were eight of us from the Eugene area alone (including Coburg). And then there were many people I had met electronically whom I was interested in meeting in person, both competitors and volunteers.
I wasn’t shy about announcing my pre-race goal of placing in the top ten, and I thought 18:30 was needed to do that. I didn’t know if the increasing temperature forecast for race day (102 by Friday afternoon) would help or hinder my chances since my heat training consisted of sauna sessions at the YMCA (cultural experiences for sure) and running with the bank robber suit on. But everybody was in the same boat since it wasn’t even hot in California in the weeks leading up to the race. Having lived and trained in Phoenix for eight years at least I know how to run in the heat—slow down and don’t let that core temp get too high. Don’t get behind on sodium, fluids, or calories or you might not be able to catch back up without taking a long break.
The race finally started at 5 am, and the incredibly deep field headed up Squaw Valley. Within a half mile I looked up and noticed the leaders were going up the wrong road, and everybody was following them. I told Jeff Riley that they were going the wrong way, but I was hesitant to start yelling because there had been other changes on the initial 2500’ climb so maybe we were going up a different road. When we got to the intersection in question I saw the ribbons on the other road and yelled to everybody “WRONG WAY.” Wow, I was leading the race. Not exactly a feeling I enjoyed, but a few others who were near me surged to the front to take their five seconds in the lead and be able to say they actually led WS too. Soon enough the 50 or so that went the wrong way came charging by. When Hal Koerner went by I told him if there were any other intersections he was unsure about later in the day to just wait for me to come along and I’d tell him which way to go. He just looked at me and gave me that big Hal grin.
It was not hot in the early morning hours, and I end up running most of the first 16 miles with first timer from Eugene, Scott Wolfe, a.k.a Monkeyboy. He had never been on this part of the trail before, and I was excited because he was so excited about what we were doing. We were running the Western States 100 miler with 400 runners, 1500 volunteers, and maybe the same number of crew. There was granite everywhere, flowers, huge trees, expansive views. It was a pretty nice morning. Yes, this is a big deal.
At Red Star Ridge (16 miles) I picked up a third bottle thanks to advice from AJW, and dropped off my gloves and Moeben sleeves. I wasn’t going to need those anymore as it was already starting to feel warm in the sun. The word from somebody was that we were in about 50th place. 7:52 am at Red Star in 50th place? Yeah, it was a deep field. Don’t think I’ve ever been farther back than 25th or so at that point, and I was not running slow. There were lots of fast guys behind me too.
The running to Duncan is easy, but I encountered my first problem: chaffing. Having a third bottle in this section was good; however, because of the two waist belts my shorts were staying completely wet, and it was apparent that the balls didn’t want to be wet. [Lord Balls’ balls were not happy.] So I dropped the bottle, and began what would be the norm at each station—a dip in the Vaseline jar. At one aid station (can’t remember which one) I had a volunteer tell me that I should wear a Speedo so I wouldn’t get any chaffing. I thanked him but told him I didn’t bring a pair. Duncan Canyon is not that big of a canyon, but for some reason it brings some of those fast starters back. It delivers a good beat down to many. Without even trying I passed about 10 people and got to Robinson Flat (29.7 miles) at 10:21 am, one minute off my projected splits for an 18:30 finish. I pounded a can of pork and beans. I was feeling really good about my time, my effort, my stomach, my head. It was all good, except there were 40 runners ahead of me!
I continued feeling great on the easy but exposed section from Robinson to Last Chance (43.3) and spent time talking with Tracy Moore, Tony D’Alessio, Krissy Moehl, and others. It was getting warmer and I was running steadily, but I wasn’t really making any move on the field. When Tracy and Tony left me I ended up running a good seven miles completely alone. It did cross my mind that maybe I was the only one running Pucker Point Trail while everybody else was running the road, but at Last Chance I finally start seeing folks. Fast folks. Lots of them. I chatted with a few of them like Brian Morrison who said he couldn’t keep any food down. I encouraged him to stay in the game. I reminded him it would get better when it got cooler, but as soon as I said that I realized that it hadn’t even gotten hot yet —dumb!
The descent into Deadwood was where I first started to feel that it might be a hot day. I crossed the Swinging Bridge stopping at the spring to dip my head and fill up my bottle. Immediately after heading up the first few switchbacks I said to myself that it is hot. I passed one more fast guy on the slow but steady climb up to Devil’s Thumb (47.8) to get into somewhere just under top 25, and that was pretty much the end of my big move up in the field for the day. From the Thumb to Michigan Bluff (55.7 miles) I just tried to survive the heat. I wasn’t running or walking fast, but I wasn’t losing any ground to the field. I ran/walked a lot with Dan Barger who wasn’t very talkative. Arriving in Michigan Bluff is always fun for me since I’ve spent a lot of time there the last few years. This year was no exception. Lots of people I know were there. I took my planned sit-down break, and I tried eating a sandwich but couldn’t—only soup and Mountain Dew. My crew loaded my bandana with a ton of ice, and off I went to tackle an even hotter Volcano Canyon.
Volcano Canyon was hot, but nothing significant happened there. Arriving at Foresthill (62), I see a pukey Monkeyboy. He was having stomach issues. I didn’t stay long. Picking up my first pacer Nathan Blair, who is running his first 100 this September, we began running the steep downs to Cal 1 and we’re suddenly around a lot of runners: Victor Ballesteros, Dan Barger, Krissy Moehl, Kyle Hoang. I can’t remember ever being around that many runners on Cal St. any other year. Again, I think it was a testament to the depth of the field.
The lack of solid food and the fact that I was drinking only water were beginning to show in that my energy levels were fluctuating. I was still running the downhills well, but we got dropped by everybody in the little group and arrived at Cal 1 (Dardanelles) alone. Nathan and I slogged to Cal 3 (Ford’s Bar 73), and were pleasantly surprised there. Ford’s Bar had obviously gotten a facelift. Lights, music, friendly people, and most importantly ice. I asked the volunteers what happened to the old Ford’s Bar. A woman who I assume is the captain said, “Welcome to the new Ford’s Bar.” They get my vote for most improved aid station.
When you leave Ford’s Bar you’re finally at the river bottom, somewhere around 1000 feet elevation. It was friggin’ hot down there, and my stomach was still on the edge like it had been since Michigan Bluff. I coughed from who knows what, and I got that familiar feeling that I just might puke. Shit! Yep, I puked. I even puked up the noodle soup I drank way back at Cal 2. I was pretty mad at my stomach as it continued to dry heave long after everything was gone. “What do you want me to do?” I yell at my stomach. Not pretty, but, a good experience for Nathan who got to watch me deal with this.
We eventually got to the River Crossing (78), which was the aid station I was most looking forward to, somewhere around 8 pm in somewhere around 25th place. Surprisingly, I was only down about two pounds. I quickly introduced myself to the Godtfredsen’s, and into the water we went. Now, I would have expected the cool water to feel good on my hot tired legs. And it would have if the water level had been below my package. Oh yeah, the chaffing was still there. Yowza that burned!
Nathan and my brother Chris switched the pacer number on the climb up to the Green Gate, and from there on in I just tried to keep plugging away. The thought was maybe we could break 20 hours, but I told Chris we needed to be at highway 49 at 11:30 pm in order to make it. We continued to move forward “running” everything except the uphills. We passed a few people, but the pace just didn’t seem to be fast enough. It was dark and warm and the ground just wasn’t moving very fast under my feet. Along the Quarry Road,, with about eight miles to go in the race, I got a great surprise. I heard from behind, “Hey old man, wanna race to Auburn?” Holy cow, it was Lewis Taylor, a.k.a lowercase, who was running well. I was very happy to see him run so well this late. I warned him to look over his shoulder on the track in the last 250 meters of the race. Lewis had struggled in his first attempt at WS and then dropped out of his second 100 miler at Leadville last year. I am happy for him.
Almost immediately after the high from getting passed by Lewis, we saw another runner stumbling on the road. It was another Eugene runner, Dan Olmstead, a.k.a. Tapeworm. He was not looking good. We were competing in a race. I wouldn’t think I could feel excited to get passed by a runner and then totally bummed to pass another runner, but that was the situation I found myself in. I had spent a lot of time talking with Lewis and Dan (and Scott) about solving problems during the race. About not quitting when problems crop up. But we also talked about not pushing too far. About keeping a Haggin Cup mindset. I didn’t stay around to talk with Dan much since he did have a pacer and, hell, I was racing Lewis to Auburn. When I got to Highway 49 (93.5) I told some of the Oregon crew not to let Dan get an IV or he’ll be out of the race. I didn’t know his quads were shot and that he was indeed at the point of doing serious damage to his body. It wasn’t until after I finished that I learned Dan was transported to the hospital via ambulance. Good thing they didn’t listen to me.
I cruised into Auburn after 1 am and the party near the top of the Robie climb that is usually wrapped up before midnight was unbelievably loud. There were a good 20 or 30 people yelling my name and congratulating me. It was crazy loud. My whole crew was with me (Greyson, Renee, Katie, Nathan, Chris) as we ran to the track. I ran the last 250 in 54 seconds to finish in 20:18, 20th place (full results here).
So did I cry at the finish? Nah, not this year, but I sure enjoyed watching all the people I know finish the race. And there were lots of them. I didn’t cry until Monday and Tuesday after the race while reading and responding to all the post-race congratulatory emails and blog comments. Am I happy with my race? Absolutely. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed not to have run faster, but the race is much bigger than my finish time or place. Tim is right, WS is important for many more reasons than that.
Great stuff Craig and congratulations on an extremely strong showing out there on a day when many runners were experiencing a lot of trouble. One of the reasons I am jealous of you (other than the fact you live in Eugene, have superior blogging skills and you’re a faster runner) is that your affinity for this race reaches so far back. It must be great for you to cross HWY49 and the Cool Meadows near where you grew up.
I hope tapeworm is OK and he has nothing more serious than some beat-up quads.
Congratulations on another strong finish. It is impressive to me how much you love this race. After finally getting to run it, I can finally start to see why. There is certainly no 100 that comes close to it in terms of intensity, excitement, and competition. Now if they could just shorten up the pre-race briefing and the awards ceremony a touch… not to mention, turn down the heat a touch…
frig, I nearly cried just reading about it! well done. don’t know if I’ll ever do 100m but let me tell you I can’t wait for my first ultra at McKenzie and this is giving me even more motivation and excitement for it! cheers. bigE
You are a stud!! Great write-up I was amazed at you chasing down that runner at mile 100 you looked like you could have done another hundred! Not only a great run-but you introduced me to the fine fashion of gold/sparkling toenail polish. Which my wife thanks you. Thanks for the hospitality on friday night-dinner was fantastic. Always a pleasure to see you—–great job!
@Paul Charteris – I wished things had worked out better for you. Sounds like you took that calf as far (maybe farther) as you could.
@Jasper Halekas – You ran one hell of a race, especially for a first-timer. Yeah, there are some things that can be better – we’re trying to influence them.
@BigE – Looks like I will be at McKenzie this year. Gonna be fun watching…
@Drama Queen – We trained for the last 250. Think Wanger got splits for that? Now, if I could have just run 1.5 hours faster from the Swinging Bridge to the track I’d have run a perfect race. Glad to hear your wife likes the nail polish.
Great write up…and I’m still looking to give those pork and beans a shot. Maybe next year!
Great race, LB. It was fun, as always, crewing for you again! I wish we coulda helped you to a faster finish, but that’s the way the cookie crumbles I guess. I look forward to going back down and crewing for you the next year you get in to States… hopefully next year! Well done, man. Hope you’re having fun in DC. Cheers!
Very impressive effort Craig. It helps a lot to hear how a WS veteran handles the heat and the course the way you did. I’ll be using this report and this blog to help me prepare for my WS attempt next year.
What a solid, solid race. I watched you all the way on-line, there was a glitch at one point in the scoring on the online tracker had you jumping up to 8th place between Michigan Bluff and Foresthill running 2 minutes per mile…what was it like running those 2 minute miles for over 10K? I was pumped, I even yelled upstairs to my wife “Craig’s blasting through the field, what a move!”…
For some runners, I think they would be better having their pacer at the start of the race, find some couch potato to pace them that holds them back until Red Star…
@will – Don’t get the beanie weanies, just straight pork and beans. Easy to eat. Lots of sodium. Lots of carbs. Some fat and protein.
@Hairclub – Thanks again for helping. Maybe we’ll get in next year.
@Joe Lee – Hope you have a great race.
@Cougarbait – Hah! I hadn’t heard this. I definitely wasn’t running 2:00 miles in Volcano Canyon. As for the quick start, it was a bit strange. I did hear some talking about trying to run fast early while it was cool. Interesting strategy, I guess.
Hey Craig, great read and great performance – well done!
Craig, great effort & a marvelous exhibit of veteran savvy. Maybe sort of a weird question: who makes the hat you’re wearing in the Robinson Flat photo? Looks like it has really open mesh and a nice soft brim – a perfect hot-weather cap. Again, fantastic job. Looking forward to saying hi at Waldo.
Congrats on a great race! Sounds like it was a tough day out there for everyone. Also, nice job on getting the leaders back on course at the beginning. Score one for the Oregonians!
You have such a great attitude, Craig, and it’s great to hear you are happy with your race. You’re so right; the race IS much bigger than finish time or place.
My ‘boys’ appreicate that I give them all the support
they need via the concept of …… underwear !!!!!
You keep this up, you’ll need a sling someday, young man.
Thanks for sparing no stinging details in a great report.
@Brad Mitchell – Thanks. How’s the knee?
@Miles – I believe it is a Patagonia hat. It was given to me years ago by a river guy.
@Gretchen – As compensation for getting him back on course perhaps Hal will let me borrow the cougar for a week. Hell, two cougars in his store are likely to just fight anyway…
@Phil – You wouldn’t want a completely sanitized report would you?
There were times this year when even my motivation was fading but to watch, run, and catch up with you northerners concerning all things WS really helped. Or should I say it rubbed off, now only if I could rub off on you……I mean now we’re even……or am I up one now..:)
See you in a week?
What I find so enjoyable about your reports is that I can read them comfortably and know that no matter what comes your way, you will problem solve your way out of it, or accept what the day is dealing, and get yourself to the finish line in a respectable time and probably be worthy of the Haggin Cup Award. I didn’t expect that you would be the leader of the race and yelling to the others they were off course, but puking on Cal Street and yelling at your stomach definitely seemed reasonable. If nothing else, I think you show us all that keeping your head together is really what it takes and paying attention to what seems to be small stuff because you know it will become big stuff before it’s all over. I’m bummed you didn’t get top 10, but I’ll put big money on you being at the start in 2010.
Nice run, Craig. Very impressive.
Craig – Thanks for being a great ambassador for the race. Somewhat comforting to know that others had trouble with the heat as I did. Unfortunately, I dropped at MB. I was feeling great running down ED Canyon, a little crampy in the calves but nothing too alarming. As soon as I hit the hill and started climbing up, I experienced severe cramping and was walking only with great difficulty. I thought I had been eating and drinking right. About 1/2 way up the climb I started puking. The climb took me 2:40. As I walked into the aid station I had very little doubt I would drop. I tried recovering for about an hour and I put up no resistance when offered the IV. Maybe had I been in that situation before I could have better rallied. At the time it seemed liked the right decision to call it a day. Anyway, just thought I’d give a few words about my race. I wish I had a miraculous recovery to report. See ya on the trails.
@roguevalleyrunners – I think you may be up on me now. 3 to 2. I’m more confident in my chances of catching AJW in the ten year bet than you straight up. Now, tell me again what you did in the sauna to prepare for that heat.
@Meghan – My toes weren’t Haggin Cup worthy 🙂 Also, one thing I failed to mention in the report is that at ALT (85 miles) I was 5.5 pounds down (3.5%). Not sure if the scale was accurate, but I finished only 2 pounds down. Still haven’t seen my CPK result. Sodium level was 141. But you gotta be in the top ten to be eligible anyway…
@William Swint – Thanks. See you soon in the Oregon mountains.
@Derek S – Thanks for the update. We were waiting for you at the finish. 2:40 is a long time for that climb. I know it probably hurts to second guess now, but remember the Dave Terry mantra to rebuild yourself: Volume (blood pressure), Electrolytes, Calories – in that order. Lay down with your feet up, ice on your body, drink fluids. Then take your S-caps. If all is good (you haven’t puked again), you can focus on getting some calories in. Keep your head up. When the stomach goes south it is not easy to get back in the game – especially if somebody offers you an IV.
Awesome! I want to go out and train right NOW! I love these reads. You really should publish them. THank goodness I don’t have to run 100 miles to get the feel for it. Congrats on your race. I’m ready for the Canyon again next year.
Great, GREAT race report. You have a way of sliding these one liners in that gets me howling. Like I said, I was really curious how you were doing most of the day, and now I have a feeling. I puked too, and was also wondering how my pacer was going to deal with it. I puked about 10 miles after you puked, so I got you on that one, I guess.
Thanks again for the write up. Maybe I’ll see you in Oregon for your race this year…who knows…
@Scannell – OK, the canyon next June. But no starting early – I’ll need the heat training!
@Jed Tukman – Did I ever tell you that I’m really good at fund raising? Just ask AJW. Yeah, come on up to Waldo this year.
From your first blog about WS, through the synchroblogs, and all the way to the finish one comes to grasp the enormity of the challenge, wonder and accomplishment of completing Western States. It’s been a bit like the old novels that were published in magazines one chapter at a time, each one leading the reader in a new direction or exposing a new element in the struggle the protagonist must face.
I’ve really loved the humor, critical analysis of the Western States 100 itself as it relates to ultrarunning’s overall direction and grasping that the challenge for those at the front and near the front of these events is far less different than the struggle in the middle of the pack that I would have expected. The biggest difference it seems is the volume of work and preparation (logistical and physical) that occurs.
Congratulations on another excellent race.
Let me know if you need a sweep at Waldo.
@Stephan – It has been a lot of fun for me to write and share my thoughts these last six months. Not sure what I’m going to blog about now that the race is over 🙂
I’ll be in touch about sweeping. Thanks.
I hope you are recovering well now that it’s been a week and a half or so after the run.
Have you ever had a massive silver dollar sized blister on one of your foot’s heels? Definitely one thing that can slow down a person’t training!
I had to deal with that the last two weeks. Another ultrarunner finally recommended I try, of all things, Preparation H on it (after letting the liquid out of the blister using a sterilized needle), and that worked like a friggin’ charm. Just passing this along to everyone else should they ever have the same problem..
Kind of being a smart aleck here, and I hope you have a sense of humor about it but it’s also a half serious suggestion as well when I say, why don’t you set your sights on completing one of the Slams?
If WS is a grand challenge, imagine adding the adventure of trying to complete another 3 or 4 100s in one year. There’d be plenty more in 2010 to blog about then!
Sign me out,
@Robert Blair – We’ll leave the slamming to AJW. I figure only one or two hundreds per year is enough for me. I want to run my 10th WS on my original hips!
@LB, Why don’t you blog about Waldo and all the work and stuff that goes on about being a RD?
@Grae Van Hooser – We’re gonna have a couple of guest WS race reports from Monkeyboy and White Trash. After that I have a couple of ideas for race/race director posts. I still have plenty to say…
Loved your report, and your blog. Not too many runners hit their time goal out there. Your finish was still outstanding.Well done.
Monkeyboy? He knows how to write? I know he knows how to drink 🙂
Well, as soon as i can get someone to transcribe the crayola crayon writing off of the bathroom wall, my race report will be published. it’s a series of dots, dashes and stick figures. we are hoping to fly in tom selleck to narrate the audio version. stand by.
You’ve had so many great comments on your race report, and you know I always enjoy, so now I am looking forward to seeing what’s next. You’ve got me hooked!
mom from cool
@Derek – Good job getting it done, yourself. Sorry about the loss of Dan Moores. I know he was a friend of yours.
@Grae Van Hooser & @MonkeyBoy – I think it probably took two boxes of crayons to write the report. I’m having to adjust my blog settings to allow a post of this length!
@mom from Cool – You’re easy.
Great job and thanks for one of the best write ups I’ve read. I’m doing my first 100 miler in Oct and your insight is helpful. You are a hero; keep it going, and thanks again for the write up, many of us out there really appreciate it!