115 Days - The Vermont 100

Hey Everyone,

I want to say thank you to my mom, dad and Summer for being there to help me there my first 100 mile race as there were some highs, lows and everything in between. My goals for this race was to complete the race in 24 hours, run until mile 75, and enjoy the views; all of which I was able to accomplish.

Below is a link to the photos that my family took of the Vermont 100 mile race on Saturday and Sunday so enjoy. The scenery in Vermont was absolutely beautiful and the weather made for some interesting times. Around mile 65 or so it started to thunder, lighting and rain and the hill climbs in the woods became an adventure as each step seemed to get buried deeper and deeper in mud. The winds did get pretty strong at times and at the finish line where some people where camping out there tents and all their belongings in their tent were blown into the pond or river as they were out on the course.

As far as the race went there were a few different races going on at the same time. They had a 50, 75 and 100 mile horse and a 100k, 100 mile and the Krogmann why don’t you miss the turn at the last aid station and run 105 miles foot races. I signed up for the 100 mile option but for some reason at mile 98 I decided to take a wrong turn and ran all the way to the finish line only to find out that the way I came was wrong and had to run back to where I went off course and finish from there. My unofficial time for the first finish (which was approx 101 miles) was 19:33 and after a long delay of trying to figure out where I needed to head back my official time was 20:32:13 and finish in 18th place out of 255 starters. While I am a little disappointed that my time did not stand at 19:33 it was the right thing to do and finish on the correct trail.

Highs and lows of the race:

Passing Michelle Barton around mile 30 going up a hill. At that point I realized my pace was probably too quick but what can you do

Running on the trail next to all the horses competing in the horse race

Not understanding why Summer and my mom were looking at me funny when asked what I wanted at the next aid station – I wanted a peanut butter and turkey sandwich and they thought that I want a pb sandwich and a turkey sandwich. Could not understand why they did not find that sandwich appealing. Although the next day when asked if I wanted the rest of the sandwich it went straight into the trash can

Coming into the aid station at mile 70 and wanted a bottle of watered down ensure and ice and not being able to think of the word ensure for a good 5 minutes. I think I called it everything but Ensure and it was frustrating that no one understood what I wanted. Even though when I saw them at mile 47 I wanted them to throw the Ensure away b/c it was so disgusting to drink.

Completing over 100 miles in around 24 hours for my first belt buckle!

I really do not remember much of the race but I hope that you enjoy the photos and they are in order of the aid stations so you can see how I was progressively getting worse and maybe Summer can fill in some of the details as she might remember the race a little better.

bk

124 Days - Badwater

At 6:45am on Monday morning, July 14, 2008, the alarm on my watch went off signaling the start of the longest, most exciting day I have ever known. I had been awake for about an hour. My heart was racing. Would I be a good crew member? Could I keep up with Dean while I was pacing him? Too late to worry about any of that now.

I was to meet the rest of the gang at breakfast at 8am. I opted to walk over to the steak house where the pre race meal was being provided a little early so that I could watch the other runners. Crews loaded their vehicles and athletes smiled wide and nervously as they readied themselves for the intense physical challenge that awaited. I watched as Pam Reed and her crew entered the restaurant for breakfast. She looked calm and ready.

Koop, Mike and Morgan showed up just a little after 8am. Dean was mentally preparing, alone in the hotel room. We took a seat near Pam who was curiously smearing jelly on exactly half of her piece of toast. A pre race routine maybe?

At 9am, it was time to leave for Badwater. Dean loaded into the van with us a few minutes late. He looked focused but excited. He cued up his Ipod and away we went, 17 miles to nowhere. Other runners had begun their races in 6am and 8am waves so as we drove, we could see them as they ran towards Furnace Creek. We cheered and they excitedly cheered back when they saw whose name was on the side of out van.

Morgan tapped Dean on the shoulder. "While you are coherent." he said, "I just want to thank you for this opportunity. It is such an honor."

"You guys need to stop thanking me," said Dean bashfully. "It is I who should be thanking you."

As we continued our drive, I zoned out, happily breathing in the music, the sights of the other runners on the road, reminding myself how lucky I was. A dream I didn't even know that I had was coming true.

At the start line, talented runners fought through the pack to shake hands with Dean and take a pre race photo. It wasn't long before these amazing athletes were being herded to the start line. I looked around and saw a sign that read 280 feet below sea level. It truly looked as if we were at the bottom of an ocean - absolutely breathtaking!

The race began. I set my stopwatch. Funny to think that it would be more than a day before I pressed that button again. The runners spread out pretty quickly. Jorge Pacheco started out fast as he always does, but it wasn't long before Akos Konyas and David Goggins were running directly behind him. Dean was maybe a 10th of a mile back. For the first 17 miles, we were only allowed one vehicle and could not pace him. The beginning of our monotonous but strangely fun routine began - drive 1/2 - 1 mile ahead, load up water bottles, load up a pitcher of ice and water, run across the street, ask Dean what else he needed, run back to the van and run out to him whatever strange thing he decided he needed at that moment, and repeat. There was no break in this and a constant sense of urgency surrounded us.

At mile 6, Dean decided to push ahead of the pack, maybe a 10th of a mile in front of the other 3. We all exchanged nervous glances. "Is this a good thing or a bad thing?" I asked.

"Not sure yet," Said Koop.

He was the next one out to bring Dean water. "These guys are moving really fast," said Dean.

"Maybe you should slow down," said Koop. "It's a long way to Lone Pine." Dean nodded as he let the other runners move ahead once more.

At Furnace Creek, Koop laced up his running shoes for the first round of pacing. Mike picked up the second vehicle as Morgan and I rode in the first one, continuing to crew. The other vehicle just followed us and Mike would get out to help as needed.

About 5 miles down the road from there, we saw David Goggins, a favorite to win, laying down in the back of the crew vehicle. We never saw him again.

Dean and Koop ran fast as I nervously awaited my pacer duties. I would pick him up at Stovepipe. I told the guys that I didn't know how long I would last at his pace. I hopped out of the van when we arrived as Mike drove into town to get gas and popsicles. My heart was pounding. Was a really pacing Dean Karnazes at Badwater? Well, not for long! His pace was strong so I only lasted about 5 miles which we completed in 40 minutes. I let Morgan take over so that I did not become a liability.

The hours flew by. I never wanted this race to end. It was an ultrarunner's heaven.

"Summer, do you have a good moisturizer?" Dean asked at one of our stops.

"I have my Mary Kay sunscreen with moisturizer," I said.

"That sounds great!" The guys snickered as I dug into one of my bags and pulled out both the sunscreen and lip balm. The lip balm was quickly renamed 'lip gu' and needed about every other stop from that point out.

As the sun began to set, the sky opened up as a welcomed rainstorm showered over us. A beautiful rainbow spread across the twilight and through mild exhaustion, smiles were impossible to hide. "Dean, go get us that pot of gold," I said. "It's right there." It wasn't long before Mike took over pacing some of the night portion and Dean finally started to get hungry. I was on 'kitchen duty."

"What can I get for you, Dean?" I said smiling.

"Cheese and crackers!" he said.

As we drove to the next stop, I carefully layed triscuits out across my legs, cut the cheese and made him his snack. We stopped and I ran them out.

"Nah..." he said. "How about peanut butter and crackers!"

Back at the van, I dug up some peanut butter, spread it on the crackers as we drove, then ran them back out. I handed them to Dean.

"No thank you," he said. "Unless you have jelly. Do you have jelly?"

"I don't think so," I said.

"But we have honey," said Koop.

"Oooo.... honey. Yes, that's perfect!"

Morgan looked at me and started laughing. "Welcome to crewing Dean and his night eating habits!" said Koop.

I fixed the crackers for him as we drove, honey dripped all over my hands and legs as I attempted to quickly prepare them. I ran them out once more.

"They look dry," said Dean. "Oooo... how about pudding with peanut brittle!"

Morgan laughed hysterically and Koop was nice enough to grab the pudding this time and put me out of my misery!

The night was long but the desert was beautiful. We saw snakes and scorpions but the most breathtaking sight was the flashing lights in the distance of other crews helping their runners across the vast landscape.

At 5am, Dean grew tired and opted for a 5 minute nap. It was a much needed rest for me as well. I sat on the back of the van watching my watch so I knew when to wake him. Suddenly I heard footsteps approaching. "Hello,' a female voice spoke from the darkness. It was Pam Reed.

"Hi!" I smiled, a little flustered. "Good morning!"

I was so excited to see her that reality did not set in - she was passing Dean, putting him in 4th place. I woke him shortly thereafter and he resumed his running, slightly more energized.

The sun began to rise and we could see Mt. Whitney in the distance. "See that switchback?" said Mike. "That's where we are headed." Koop took over pacing in the morning. Morgan and I were riding in the 2nd van as we saw Dean catch Pam at almost exactly mile 100. His pace quickened.

"No rivalry between Dean and Pam my ass!" I laughed. "This is awesome!"

They leap frogged each other until Dean took the lead. But there were other battles to fight. Jamie Donaldson, a women's favorite, was catching up quickly. Coming in to Lone Pine, she was running sub 8 minute miles.

"Do you think you can pace Dean up Mt Whitney?" asked Mike. "Just for a little while, like you did before?"

I smiled. "I will do it or die trying."

"He is going to want to walk this but you can't let him. Push him. He is very close to a PR."

I nodded as I geared up. The past two months of training and ever the past few years of ultrarunning had lead me to this moment. I hopped out of the van.

"You have me for a while, is that ok?" I smiled.

"Oh yes!" said Dean. "Man, I am really beat."

We walked for a bit before I glanced behind us and saw Pam Reed, not far behind.

"Okay." I said. "Ready to run?"

"I can't run this," said Dean.

"Just to that white car... see that up there?" He nodded. "Then I will pour both water bottles over your head."

And that's how we did it. One land mark after another, up Mt. Whitney, together.

"Mike, she's making me run!" Dean complained.

"Dean, cancel your manicure, grow a mustache, and get your ass up that hill!!" said Mike.

I didn't leave him, I didn't ask for someone else to replace me. Although it was the hardest thing I have ever done physically, I paced Dean 13 miles up Mt Whitney, and he ended the race with a PR of 27:11, beating Pam Reed who also PRed!

Tears streamed down my face as all of the crew members and Dean held hands as we crossed the finish line together. I was forever changed.

"Just one thing I want to know." Mike said to Dean over pizza in to Lone Pine. "You gonna become a Mary Kay rep after this?" We all laughed.

I saw Larry on my way out of town the next morning and we shared stories of the race. "He's a little disappointed," I said of Dean. "But he is still very cheerful."

"Did he really think he could beat Jorge?" asked Larry.

I shrugged, "You have to give yourself permission to be great, right?" I said quoting him. He smiled.

Driving out of town was bittersweet. One adventure down, but I was off to Vermont!

125 Days - The Eve of Badwater

I am writing this on hotel stationary because I do not want to forget a moment of this day.  Today has been the best day of my life.  Tomorrow promises to somehow be even better.  I am in a hotel in Furnace Creek, 17 miles from the start line of the infamous Badwater Ultramarathon.

Last night was a nearly sleepless night for me.  It felt as if Christmas was coming for the very first time and I was 5 years old again.  I woke up before my alarm and headed out the door at 6am for my drive to Lone Pine.  It was there that I met Mike and Larry who were kind enough to drive me to the Visitor's Center to meet Dean.  Mike was vibrant, full of life and excitedly shared stories from his running history.  He was from Boston and flew in just to crew his friend.  Larry was quieter, but the words that he spoke were wise ones.  I would learn how truly wise as the day progressed.

When we arrived at the Visitor's Center, I was still 2 hours ahead of Dean.  I found Ko immediately and we shared giddy hugs and laughter.  He looked like a 5 year old too.  This was an adventure unlike any the two of us had ever known.

As I waited for Dean, I sat and talked to Larry.  We exchanged stories of Moosie and Froggie and I told him about Brian.  Just then, Jorge Pacheco, an amazing Southern California ultrarunner walked up.  Larry knew him and introduced us.

"I know who you are," I smiled.  "On any given out and back 50 miler, you are usually passing me from the other direction when I am at mile 10!"

"And then you pass me!"  he said with his thick Mexican accent.  It was nice to know how humble he was.  He went to check in after that.

I told Larry how Brian would joke about never entering a race that Jorge was in simply because he automatically knew that winning was off the table.  Larry shook his head.  "Then he will never beat Jorge."

"Oh it's just a joke,"  I said.

"Doesn't matter,"  said Larry.  "You have to give yourself permission to be great."

Those words stuck with me for the rest of the day.  When Larry left me, I went inside to check in and wait for Dean.  Two minutes late, he walked in through the exit.

"Dean!"  I said, "You are late... they aren't going to let you run!"

He laughed.  "Summer!  Great to see you!"  He hugged me and introduced me to the rest of the group consisting of Koop and Mike who were both Carmichael coaches and Morgan who has every job under the sun and is an athlete coached by Carmichael.  They were all young... late 20s to 30s, all in great shape, all easy going but driven.  Everything you could possibly want in a crew.

After Dean signed a few autographs and got his picture taken with some fans, we went back to the hotel room to get changed to go swimming.  Dean knew of a great private resort down the road.  As we snuck through some bushes and down a steep, rocky incline, I had my suspicions, but I was having too much fun to state the obvious.  I jumped into the pool along with the other guys, but Dean opted to sit in the sun.  "I just want to get used to it."  he said.

I laughed.  "Too late for cramming now, Dean!"

It wasn't long before a security guard found the 5 of us in our little desert oasis an proceeded to kick us out.  But it was just in time for the race briefing.  We headed back over to the Visitor's Center.

The Badwater video that they showed us brought tears to my eyes.  As I sat on the floor sandwiched into a small space between Dean and the rest of the crew, I had to pinch myself.  Was this really happening?

After dinner with Koop, Morgan and Mike, I headed back to the hotel room to open my 'Christmas presents,' which consisted of all the new gear a runner could possibly want!  How am I supposed to sleep with tomorrow so near?

128 Days - 3 Days till I crew Dean Karnazes at Badwater

Over the past few months, my ultrarunning adventures have taken on a life of their own, and brought me along for an amazing ride. They are stories that I should have kept up with, but unfornately the business of life made me choose between writing and running and running had to win. Here are some of the adventures that I missed sharing:

Western States Training Camp - Memorial Day weekend, Brian and I packed our bags and headed up to Auburn for the 3 day training camp. As we loaded the busses, I was able to meet Dmitry for the first time, the man that I intended to pace. I was relieved to see that he was 'normal,' very nice, and a friend of my good friend Xy Weiss. I rode the bus over with Brian, Donn and Mike Palmer, who paced me at American River. We took an hour long drive to the beginning of our longest of the three days of running. As we exited the busses, rain poured down on us, that quickly changed into hail. Brian quickly made it to the front of the pack - the mentality being that the quicker he could run, the quicker he could be out of the conditions. I trudged along at my slower pace with Donn and Xy. We laughed and told stories, jumping over mud puddles as we made our way up the first climb at Michigan Bluff, notoriously one of the most difficult climbs in the race.

As we continued to climb, I looked down at both my hands and my knees and they were swollen and red, painful to the touch. It slowed me to a walk. I told Donn and Xy to go ahead, but they would not leave me. They are good friends. They helped me to the top of the hill where I officially DNFed the first training run. It was heartbreaking, but I realized that I could no longer pretend that my arthritis was not a factor and that I would have to start figuring out a way around it in events like this.

The 2nd day I was still in some pain, so I opted out of the run, but the 3rd day I was back out there. It was absolutely gorgeous. I ran with Donn, skinned my knee, raced up and down the rolling hills. It was a perfect running day. I left sad that I was unable to run all 3 days, but having met some amazing people and all in all, it was a wonderful weekend!

The Salvation Army 5k/10k and The Holcomb Valley 33 Mile Run - This was the weekend prior to my 31st birthday and it was a perfect running weekend! I met most of my Goat friends at the start line of the Salvation Army 5k and 10k. The majority of the group was running both events. I started the 5k with Froggie, Jean and Tara, but I pushed ahead after the first mile. I ran with all my heart, finishing 16th overall, just in time to line up for the 10k. I decided just to enjoy that run, and ran with Jim. We had an incredible time!

The next morning, Brian, Donn and I got up at the crack of dawn to head for Big Bear for teh Holcomb Valley 33 Mile Run. It was a gorgeous race that would take your breathe away, quite literally! We started at about 9500 feet of elevation and climbed to about 1100 feet. Donn and I took it slow and enjoyed the beautiful course. Along the path, we even saw a few llamas! Brian made great time, as always. We rode back to LA tired, a little sore, but very happy.


On Sunday, I leave for Badwater for the experience of a lifetime! I truly feel as if I won a contest. I was also able to get some time off from work to head out to Vermont for Brian's first 100 mile run next weekend. All in all, next week seems to be shaping out to be a PERFECT ultrarunning week! Stories to come...

129 Days - Brian WINS his first (of many) marathon!

Brian's race report of the Run with the Devil Marathon:

Here is the link for the few photos that there were from the race – (BK bib # 592 and SW bib #593)
http://www.backprint.com/view_event.asp?PID=bp%18%7EA&EVENTID=38354

First of all congrats to SW for surpassing her goal of 7 hours and finishing and taking first in her age group; very well done! I could not have been out in that heat any longer then I necessary.

When we got word that WS 100 was canceled I had to find another solution as taking a weekend off is just not in my vocabulary. So I sent SW an email about this race somewhat hoping that her reply would be NO because I did not really want to be out in 110 degree heat, but I should have known what her response would have been and so we signed up. We drove up to Nevada Friday night for=2 0our 10 am start time on Saturday morning. Since I do not sleep in I was up around 6 am and went outside and thought to myself it is hot, but not that hot right now – then I realized I was in the shade. That is when I knew what I was in store for.

Right before the marathon started there were a few interesting comments made that were pretty amusing at the time

A 17 y/o was running his first marathon and before this had only completed 10 miles as his longest run. He said that he could run 10 miles at a 6 min pace and if he could get that up over the course of the marathon he would be in good shape. I remember those days and by mile 3 he was done, but to his credit he did make it to mile 15; which was his longest run to date.
The course in its second year was now certified as a Boston qualifier – I blew that one off and had a good laugh because that was not going to happen
If you think you will take it slow going out and negative split the course on the way in do not even think about it. On the way in it is even hotter and the hills are tougher. Blew that one off too, but to my surprise went out in 1:53 and came in 1:51 so I guess you can negative split the course

Anyway, the goals for this race were pretty simple

Survive
Break 5 hours – based on prior year times that would put me in the top 5 and what be a great result
Hit the turn around before Noon – 2 hour ½ marathon
Hydrate
Survive

As the race got started 3 guys took off, including the 17 y/o, and by the first mile I was in 4th place leading a group behind me and by the 3rd mile I was in 3rd place as I based the 17 y/o. Gave him a few encouraging words and offered his some water and off I went. As I was climbing to the aid station at 11.5, I saw another runner coming back in the opposite direction and he looked strong and assumed that he was the leader of the marathon. I figured I would not catch him but if I maintained the pace I was on a 3rd place finish was a sure thing. As I approached the half way point I saw another runner heading my way and he was looking like the devil got him and figured in time I would catch him on one of the hills (still thinking I was in 3rd place at this point). As I entered the 13.1 mile aid station there was another runner that was done for and at this point I had no idea what place I was in (3rd or 4th…). As I left and made the turn to head home the heat started to hit and the dry winds were blowing right towards us. Nothing like hot dry air being blown in your face! Fast forward to mile 17.5 is when I caught the guy from the turnaround and we approached the 18.1 mile aid station together. I asked the volunteers how the leader looked and they said he was running the 50 miler. So I kindly asked “Who is leading the marathon” and his reply “You” and I said ”Oh, I better get going”. I do not know if I will ever hear those words again but that was pretty cool to hear. The last 8 miles of the race was difficult as it was getting hotter and the hills seemed to be getting steeper and longer, but this time I was able to push through the mental block that I usually get around 20 or so miles and finish strong. By mile 23 my feet were on fire and I did everything I could to keep my core temp down; which included splashing myself with water and watered down electrolyte drinks from my bottles. Every time I wanted to slow down during those last 6 miles and walk an uphill I thought to myself if I slow down that means I will be out in this heat even longer and since I did not want that I kept moving and figured that I would deal with the pain in the comfort of my cool hotel room. When I crossed that finish line and heard I won it did not sink in and only until last night when the results were finally posted did I believe that I truly won the event.

It was a strange feeling being out there by myself and in the lead, usually on the trails at this point I am on my own, but with plenty of people in front of me to try and catch. So for one day I get to say that I won and that I have a course record; which will probably fall next year, but for now it is mine. For the runners in this email, so I guess everyone but my family, this is a great race and the RD, Joyce, has a few other races she puts on each year and not all of them take place in the heat. Check out her website http://calicoracing.squarespace.com for some of the other races as I imagine they would not disappoint.

Pretty boring story, but hey I work with numbers all day and I am not very creative; maybe sw can give a more imaginative recap of the race.

bk

176 Days - Brett Bauer Update

Hello Wendell and Sarah,

I would like to extend my sincerest gratitude to the official rescue personnel and especially to all my fellow trail runners who unselfishly put their own interests aside to aid a fellow trail runner in need. I will forever remember the pure generosity and sportsmanship demonstrated. The whole experience was humbling and solidified my love and respect for the sport. I would love to update you on my current situation. As you know, I suffered from heat exhaustion and was taken to Los Robles Hospital and Medical Center in Thousand Oaks via helicopter. In route I was given oxygen and an IV for rehydration (3 bags total). Ice packs were placed on my body in an attempt to lower my core body temperature. After spending the afternoon in the hospital re hydrating, I was released with a clean bill of health. According to the Doctor, had I not made the decision to stop running or fellow trail runners not aided me in my time of need, I could have had heat stroke which can lead to permanent brain damage. I will continue my running endeavors on June 1st as I will be running the Rock 'n' Roll Marathon in San Diego. I have attached two pictures, a before and after. Enjoy and see you on the trails!

Enthusiastically,

Brett Bauer

178 Days - The Sycamore Canyon 50k

I can honestly say that I have never entered a race that has turned out exactly as I thought it would be. Generally it is not even close to my expectations.

My weekend began with a Saturday trail run with Jim and the Goats out to Tripett Ranch. As the temperatures raised up into the 90s, many small woodland creatures came out to sun themselves, along with one big one. As Jim pointed out the beautiful views, I gasped as I watched him make a near tragic step - right by the head of a giant rattlesnake! Fortunately, I learned later that a rattler cannot strike unless it coils first. We both breathed a sigh of relief and became a little more aware of our steps as we ran off into the distance. Little did I know that would be the least of the dangers that I would face that weekend.

On Sunday morning, Donn and I drove to the start of the Sycamore Canyon 50k. The start time was 8:30am - unforgiving in the shadeless heat. Craig was there to do the 8k, Jean and Kathy were doing the 30k and Donn and I were doing the 50k. It was only a few hours into our journey when record breaking heat caused my stomach to begin to turn. I figured it was great heat training though! At about mile 15, we saw a man sitting down in the trail. Donn and I stopped to help. "I am ok," he said. "I'm a doctor... but there is a man about a 10th of a mile down that needs help." We continued our run to find a collapsed man in the middle of the trail. His name was Brett. Everyone was trying to call for help, but cell reception was almost non existent. Then I tried my brand new phone - It worked! I was able to get in touch with the race director through Craig who was waiting at the finish line.

The ranger and a lifeguard/EMT showed up shortly thereafter. Froggie (Kathy) had caught up to us with a friend named LeRoy as well. She opted out of the race to stop and help too. We tried our best to carry him to the fireroad, but on the single track it was next to impossible. There was only one other option.

Had it not been so unfortunate, it would have been rather neat to watch the helicopter load our new friend Brett in without even touching down. The rest of us hiked back up to the fireroad, Froggie and the doctor headed back in the cars while Donn, LeRoy and I finished the 30k together. We had timed out of the 50k.

This weekend put these races in perspective for me on two levels. 1) I should never take for granted the dangers that I face out there and I should always do my best to be prepared. 2) I should never underestimate the spirit of ultrarunners, who gladly DNF races to help a fellow runner. I truly love these people.

On Friday, Donn will fly up to Auburn and Brian and I will drive there. We will meet up with great friends and go on a 72 mile journey of a lifetime, at Western States training camp. Slowly but surely, my dreams are beginning to come true!

184 Days until the Javelina Jundred!

I could not be more excited about the decision to run my first 100 mile race. After almost a week long break, I am back in full swing, upping my mileage. Fortunately I was off early enough last night to make the drive out to Phidippides for an evening run.

I love when the weather changes and the heat of a summer day cools into perfect evening running temperatures. I love how long it takes the sun to go down and how the city of Encino looks below as we run into the hills surrounding it. Last night we decided to run 'Exact Science,' one of my favorite courses.

I was running with Jim and Ko while Donn and Brian decided to take off in front of us. It wasn't long before the two of them had disappeared. By the time we got back to the store, we finally caught up with them - coming from the other direction. "Where have you guys been?" Brian said... "You didn't do 'Pure Stupidity' tonight?" I think we now officially have a new, more challenging course to add to our nightly runs.

This weekend promises to be a fun one. As Brian takes off for Arizona for a triathlon, I will enjoy a Saturday morning run with the Goats followed up by a fun and challenging 50k on Sunday in the Santa Monica hills. I love this.

The Wild Wild West 50k

This was definitely an exciting race! At 1:15am (maybe a record?), Brian and I rose from our comfortable bed to hit the road and head towards Lone Pine. We arrived about 45 minutes before the race began, just in time for the sun to rise over the beautiful snow covered mountains that painted the backdrop of an amazing scene. At 6am, we took off into the desert. Brian went sprinting off into the distance while I stayed back with Jim.

Lone Pine might be the most beautiful place I have ever been. Jim and I ran and laughed as we got lost (quite literally) in the desert that once played stage to many movies such as Star Wars. More than once, we had to switch to our Darth Vader and Princess Leia voices as we trodded off into what seemed like alien territory. At mile 22 we came across a group of artists, painting water colors of the rocks. It was like being in heaven.

About a mile from the finish, Jim and I caught up to Bob, the Yak. We ran in together, smiling, enjoying another wonderful adventure.

Brian placed 14th overall and 4th in his division. He is really making his mark on the ultra scene.

I met some wonderful people who gave me just the encouragement that I needed to make the jump into signing up for my first 100 miler. The deed is done. Javelina Jundred... here I come!!

2 Days till the Wild Wild West 50k

On Saturday, 8 adventurers take off for different conquests. Brian, Bob, Jim and I will tackle the Wild Wild West 50k, the Frog and the Moose will also take on parts of those trails. Donn and Ko head up North to run the Miwok 100k. There will be many stories to tell after this weekend. It has been an exciting month to say the least. I never thought that I could complete 3 ultras in the span of 6 weeks. This weekend will be a fun run with friends, no focus on time, just on pure enjoyment.

Today is Brian's 30th birthday and as of today, he is officially signed up for his first 100 miler. It is hard for me to wait until next year to tackle mine, but I have to remember that everyone's bodies are different. Not listening to mine has gotten me into trouble in the past. So I will cross my fingers and save my 100 mile virginity for Western States, if he will have me.

Last week, I began writing for a website called 'Planet Ultramarathon.' I report on USA ultra news as well as featuring an ultrarunner of the week. This was part of Brian's birthday present:

http://planetultramarathon.wordpress.com/2008/05/01/ultrarunner-of-the-week-brian-krogmann/

The Leona Divide 50 Mile Run - Round 2

As I stood at the start line in Lake Hughes, a rush of uncertainty entered my mind. Nothing was certain that weekend but pain - the pain that would rush through my body as I completed mile after mile, or the pain of not being able to accomplish my goal. I hoped very much that it would be the first one and not the latter.

Froggie (who was there to run the 28 miler), Brian, Donn and I began the race together. That morning brought back great memories of becoming an ultrarunner. I remembered everything so clearly as we took off into the sunrise. We lost the Frog, Brian was soon gone, but Donn and I decided to keep each other company and run this race as a 'fun run.' What a funny concept that is! We began the race not far from two people that have recently become my heroes - Xy Weiss and Catra. They were both seasoned 100 mile runners and I knew that if I was near them in a race, finishing would be no problem. Donn and I had the pleasure of running with Xy for several miles. I learned a lot from her in the short time that we spent together on the trails. She had decided to take this year slowly, entering fewer ultras so that she could spend more time with her kids. "I can't train like I used to... these events don't constitute training. To take on 100 mile races, you really need to get used to a constant level of pain." That comment stopped me in my tracks. What scared me so much about that? Probably the same thing that made ultrarunning appealing to me. Can there really be a higher level of pain than running a 50 mile race?

Donn and I met so many great people as we took a run down memory lane. We journeyed through temperature highs and lows as we admired the newly blooming poppy fields in the distance. The race is an out and back course, so luckily, we were able to see Brian once along the course. I immediately turned around and pretended I was running in his direction.

"Brian! You FINALLY caught us." He rolled his eyes, but I could tell he was very happy with all that he had accomplished so far. He was doing great.

Before we knew it, we had climbed to the highest point in the race at mile 32. Out of curiousity, I asked the woman at the aid station how we were doing with the cut off times.

"Well," she said "You have about an hour and a half to go 6.8 miles." I looked over at Donn enjoying his soup.

"DONN!" I said... "WE GOTTA GO!!" We raced through probably the most beautiful part of the course, desperate to make out cut off. Neither of us wanted it to end there . Along the way, we passed Kirk, a long haired, nice looking, gifted ultrarunner and bodybuilder.

"Why the rush?" He smiled.

"We have to be back at that aid station in only about an hour now."

"Right behind you!!" he said, picking up the pace. The three of us ran with all we had to avoid being disqualified. I knew first hand what it felt like to time out of a race and did not want to go through that again. With only a few minutes to spare, suddenly, the aid station was in view. "You will never take me, oh aid station of ambitious cut-off time!" I yelled as I sprinted in. They all laughed. We had made it.

After that near disaster, Donn and I opted to take it slow... 'getting out money's worth' on the course. Unfortunately, Brian wasted quite a bit of his, finishing the challenging Leona Divide in only 9:44. Donn and I jogged in at 12:41, just 11 minutes slower than my time the year before. I saw Glenda, the race director at the end of the race.

"It is amazing how you were able to create an out and back course entirely uphill!" I said, giggling.

"I KNOW!" She said. "I have done this race once and it absolutely felt that way!"

Brian had already left to go to a soccer game when we finished. After a bowl of soup, Donn and I drove back up Elizabeth Lake Road (also home of the San Andreas Fault Line), watching the sun fall over beautiful Lake Hughes. It was one for the books.

The next morning, Brian and I rose to meet Jean in Encino Hills for the famous Firehouse Run. Generally it was a 17 mile run that would go from Encino to Venice beach, but today we had opted for a different route that only took us 14. That was good enough for me. I was in pain... but I remembered Xy's words... "To prepare for a 100 mile race you must get used to a constant level of pain..." And that is exactly what I was doing. It was not long before Brian sprinted off. Jean and I enjoyed our time together, telling race stories, dog stories, and dreaming of the day that we could run together in a race like Western States! She was a great pacer, very patient as I was very slow that day. Froggie met us about 2 miles from the restaurant. "Pick up the pace, stop slacking!!" She teased me. When we finally made it to The Firehouse, food had never tasted so good. When I got home that day, my shower and bed had never felt that good. Wow, what an amazing weekend! I feel ready for the Western States Training Camp. One step closer...

1 Day - What are you running from?

It is a question that all ultrarunners are asked from time to time. I think the general thought is that if you have to run 50 - 100 miles, what exactly is it that you are running from? A bad childhood? A dead end job? For me it is none of those things. I like to think that I am running towards something. Everyone has something that makes them feel whole. The most that we can hope for in life it to find that thing, embrace it and use it for all it's worth. And this is what defines an ultrarunner.

67 miles, 2 days. If I can complete that, for some unidentified reason, I will feel more whole than I have ever felt in my life. I have no choice but to run towards that goal.

2 Days till 67 Miles

On Saturday, Jean and I enjoyed a run together through the Santa Monica mountains with the Goats. It was a beautiful day. We talked, admired the wildflowers in bloom, and of course laughed... mostly at the photo that was taken of me by Brightroom at American River (see left). It is so appropriate. During a race like that, one moment you desperately want to lay down in the middle of the trail and cry your eyes out, the next moment, eveything (including your waterbottle, apparently) is so magnificent and life could not be better.

When I first started marathon running, and then ultrarunning, it was somthing that I did on my own. I needed to know that I could accomplish these feats alone. Along the way, that changed. The first 50 miles, I know I can get through on my own, past that is where something bigger than me comes in to play. I realized that I could certainly be strong without anyone else around, but I could be stronger with the support of others. I have opted to run Leona Divide on Saturday, then on Sunday morning, wake up and run the Firehouse run (a 17 miler that Jim organizes occasionally from the Phidippides running store to an old Firehouse that has been restored into a restaurant) with Jean as my unofficial pacer. Donn is coming over to spend the night at Brian and my place on Friday night. I am hoping that we can run the majority of Leona Divide together as well. The ability to run 100 miles seems so far away for me, but after this weekend I will be one step closer. I doubt very much that I would attempt this without my friends. Boy will this be a challenge, but I could not be more excited.

8 Days till Leona Divide

Walking through Universal Studios a few days ago, I watched a tour bus go by. Mockingly, I mimicked the tour guide's voice "And to your left, a stressed out casting director rushed back to the office to pull off impossible feats for an unreasonable director." The grip walking beside me just laughed. I rarely talk about my life outside of running on here, but today it is necessary. It is amazing how intense work can be when making movies. You would think that I was saving lives. In the midst of all of this, running keeps me happy... it keeps me sane.

Something has shifted inside of me since qualifying for Western States. There is something a little crazy about attempting another 50 miler with just 2 weeks of recovery, but this is how it must be. 50 milers now need to take the place of marathons in my mind. And really, how could I not return to the course that made me an ultrarunner in the first place? What an incredible memory!

The picture above was taken about a week before my qualifying race. It pretty much sums me up. I am so grateful for running and who it makes me. I could not be happier.

The American River 50 Mile Run

I wasn't nervous on Saturday. Maybe I hadn't had time to be with as busy as work had been the past few weeks. Maybe that was for the best. Focused... yes I was definitely focused. Probably more focused than I had ever been before.

I lined up at the start line with Donn, Ko, Scott (a really gifted runner from the Goats), Mike (my pacer) and my dad was there to see us off. Mike and I started fast, but in that race it was necessary. The first 27 miles were pretty flat, but after that, the course would get challenging. It was best to try to make good time at the beginning. As I ran along with Mike, Donn passed us. He looked strong. I felt good, I made some friends, but my goal never left my mind. The silly poem that Bob had written for me the night before played over and over again in my mind... 'Run rooster run to a 10:51!' Funny the things that go through your head in a race like that.

Maybe 10 miles in, I heard Mike talking to another runner named Emmett... why did that name sound familiar? I looked up. "Mt. Disappointment!" I said. He was one of the two runners that DNFed with me. We talked and laughed our way through a few aid stations with the promise that before Mt. Disappointment this year, the two of us would hook up for a 30 mile run through the last part of that course, just to know we could finish it. I was enjoying my time with Emmett, but Mike kept me focused on my goal and not long after, we were off and I was back to concentrating on the back of his shirt and not getting too far from it.

We passed through aid stations quickly. Mike would allow me a quick 'hello' to my dad here and there, but I was to take my food and go. We were making good time and I actually think I PRed my marathon time. At mile 27, we finally caught Donn. He had burnt himself out a little on the beginning (which is easy to do) so he waited at that aid station for us to pass through. He was there with us for several miles but I remember looking back and suddenly he was gone. Was I really running faster than Donn? "I hope he's ok," I said to Mike. "He is fine," Mike said. "He can take care of himself." And we kept moving.

My dad met us and starting running with us at mile 40. I was having a real low. The dust was starting to affect my asthma, so much so that I was having chest pains. Mike stayed back with me for a while but eventually I told him to leave me. I really thought I was done. Tears streamed down my face. "Dad... I can't. I'm not cut out for this." I walked for a while, thinking for sure this was the end, that my Western States qualification just was not going to happen that day. Shortly thereafter, we rounded a corner that revealed an aid station. My dad turned to me... "Summer... you have 2 hours to go 6.7 miles.... you CAN do this." I perked back up. "Yes.... yes I can!! I will do it for Mike who I will show that his work here today was not in vain... I will do it for Dean, who needs someone at Badwater that is strong enough to push through a day like this... I will do it for Craig who would give anything to be able to be out here. And I will do it for you, Dad!" Funny how dramatic things get 44 miles into a run at times.

I sprinted off... I passed 10, maybe 15 people. I could see Mike! My dad was far behind, but he had given me exactly what I needed to finish that race. There was a 3 mile climb at the end. I walked some, ran some and the top of the hill came before I knew it. I raced to the finish line, tears streaming down my face. I looked up at the clock - 10:37. I HAD QUALIFIED FOR WESTERN STATES!! I walked up to Mike who had finished only 7 minutes in front of me. "I did it." I said. He smiled. "Great work."

Ko saw me as I crossed the finish line and unfortunately, he learned a lesson that I have learned myself in a similar way - do not start a race if you are injured or sick. He was sick and had to drop around mile 24. But he was surprisingly happy and still planning on doing Angeles Crest. Wow, I wish I had that spirit after my first DNF! Donn finished shortly after I did.

I walked back down the hill to find my dad and we gave Mike a ride back to his car. Goal #1 completed... now all I have to do is beat that darn lottery!

10 Days - The Opportunity of a Lifetime

It's amazing the things that we can have in life if only we ask. Even more amazing are those things that we actually want.

On March 3oth, Dean Karnazes will take on probably his most challenging feat yet - the Desert Grand Slam. This consists of 5 of the world's toughest desert races. One of those, of course, will be Badwater.

I found out yesterday that I will be crewing him at Badwater. I still have not collected myself enough to remove my jaw from the floor or stop my heart from beating a million miles a minute. I don't think I have ever been this excited about anything before in my entire life.

12 Days - Easter Promises

"Hey guys... should we tell all those people driving to church down there that God is up here?" We all stared into the Easter morning sunrise that rendered most of us temporarily speechless.

"I died five years ago when I came to LA," Jean said. "This is absolutely heaven."

The past few days have been so much fun. I had ushered in my three day weekend with a Thursday night Phidippides run with Donn, Jean, Bob, Tara and Brian (different Brian). Craig was closing up shop and I was able to present him with a scrapbook that I made for him with the photos that I had taken at Avalon. The weather was beautiful. Tara had to go home to meet her family, so she ran ahead as I enjoyed a comfortable pace with the rest of the group. Donn and I lead the group, racing without racing up and over hills, dreaming of our 10:52 finish at American River. When we returned to the store, Tara had left a tiny note on the door letting us know that she had gone home. Then we made a terrible discovery. The door was locked and Brian's bag with his car keys were locked in! We stared at the door, trying to figure out what we could possibly do. Jean called Dave to see if he was nearby. I think we all tried to open it. We saw Jean on the phone with Dave, laughing.

"Guys, look at the door!" We stared dumbfounded. Then we saw it - two big signs that said 'Hey fun runners - black bag is at Numero Unos (the store next door).' That night answered the age old question: How many fun runners does it take to read a sign?? Apparently more than we had!

On Saturday morning, the whole crew met up for a beautiful run at Chesebro. We didn't feel like we were in LA at all. Today, Donn, Bob and I joined forces for a race through lush green hills painted by scattered wildflowers. What a playground!

The icing on the cake was the Easter Sunday run. We opted to go to the top of the Nike Tower to watch the sunrise. At 5:30am Brian (my Brian), Jean, Donn, Bob and I met at the trailhead. When we climbed the tower, we were blessed by a 360 degree view of the city in which we lived. It all seemed so small - so conquerable from up here. And how on earth were we the only ones up here? We laughed, 'The Yak' complained of 'bladder problems' (associated with his camel pack), and we laughed some more. I'm learning that the love of laughter among this group is a close second to our love of running! We plotted an all night run. Soon Brian left to continue his triathlon training and Jean had to go to work, so Donn, Bob and I set off on a half marathon journey past the tower, into the canyon. We met Brian shortly thereafter for a tastey breakfast at my favorite restaurant - "More Than Waffles."

Today I am a normal, everyday person. I am answering phones and I am dedicated to the office life like any other person surrounding me in their cubicles. But this weekend, I was a great adventurer - discovering territory unknown to 99% of the LA community. This weekend, I hugged a moose and shared a laugh with a yak. I feel like I escape into Narnia every time I run off into the wilderness. I love this life.

"This will be a tradition now, right?" Jean asked as she headed off to work. We all smiled and promised each other it would be.

16 Days till American River

"Ah... and there it is!" said Jim. I gave him a questioning look as he continued. "The Phidippides retirement home. Isn't it beautiful?"

It was beautiful. One of the most magnificent, unfinished mansions I had ever seen. It was amazing the things that we discovered on these evening runs.

"Then it is my pact to you all that when I win the lottery, I will buy that house for us. None of us will have to work. We will just eat, sleep and run!" I said.

"And do charity work" Jim added.

"Okay, I will also let you do charity work."

"Oh thank you, benevolent ruler!" Jim said mockingly.

"HEY! I just bought you a house!!"

We all laughed and continued on our 5 mile journey. Tonight it was Mark, Brian, Ko, Donn, Jim and I. Brian and Mark were long gone, so it was the four of us making up the caboose. A light wind blew past us as we moved forward. If we were not running, it would have been chilly, but since we were, the weather was just perfect. We dodged cars, Jim told stories of the time he was arrested, all in all a great night!

It is hard to put into words how much these runs mean to me. Amidst the challenges that everyday life brings with it, somehow these people bring relief and support, even though they know little of what I do outside of running. Thoughts of an unrealistic runner's mansion makes the days more bearable and even happy when other things in life are not going as planned.

American River is only a few weeks away. As much as I want to say that this will be my qualification for Western States, I am still very nervous about the event. As my thoughts drift back to last night, it is nice to have the kind of friends that make me realize that qualifying isn't everything.

The Catalina Marathon

There is just something about days like Saturday. Time itself is meaningless. Moments seem like hours seem like seconds. Through all the trials and tribulation, through the uncontrollable laughter and maybe even tears, you simply never want that day to end.

It is challenging to start this story because I don't think there is a way that I can use words to give it justice, but I will try. I woke before my 2am alarm, quietly got ready and snuck out the door. My heart was beating fast - partially because I had not slept but mostly because I knew that the day would be one that I would not soon forget. It wasn't long before Bob and I were loading in to Jean's car and heading towards Marina Del Rey to catch our boat. We were way too lively for a group that was up that early! As soon as we pulled up to the dock, on cue, we saw Donn and Ko getting out of their car. The group was officially complete.

The first challenge of the morning was making it safely from the boat dock to the island itself. This was no small feat! With swells as high as 8 feet in the water that morning, you were in the minority if you were not getting sick on that boat. Despite our motion sickness, we were still too giddy for the majority of passengers. It was aboard that boat that I earned my nickname 'The Rooster' and Bob earned his - 'The Yak.' Use your imagination!! Towards the end of the ride, we all started to settle down and just concentrate on not losing our breakfast. The silence was broken by song... 'A three hour tour...' sang Jean. We all burst into laughter again and joined her.

Our second challenge was making it to the start line of the race. Because the swells had been so high, it took us a lot longer to get to Catalina than we expected. We barely had a chance to get off the boat before the race began. Jean and I were literally running and pinning our bibs on at the same time - still laughing I must say!

Ko was nowhere to be found at the start, but Jean, Bob, Donn and I took off together. The Rooster and the Yak had a faux race to see who could find the Moose first. We went chasing each other up the hill like little kids, making rooster and yak noises (whatever those are!) as we hunted down the real star for the day.

We were three miles in when there was a Moose sighting! Craig was clad in his traditional white wardrobe (to guard him from the sun) as well as his constant smile. Jean, Donn and Bob took off after a few minutes, but I opted to remain with the Moose. It was finally my opportunity to live the day that I had missed two weeks ago.

A few miles in to our walk, Ko joined us! All along, we had thought that he was ahead of us, but apparently the sea sickness left him ill at the start. He still looked rather green but he was tough. The Moose Crew was officially expanding. I walked for 11 miles with Craig, Kathy (AKA: Froggie) and the rest of the gang. I kept hearing him say over and over again "This is just great!" We shared stories, Craig made me a list of the races that I should do, we plotted his next race (The San Diego Marathon) we laughed some more, but eventually Ko and I had to begin running so that we would be able to make out boat. We left him in the capable hands of the Frog and the rest of the crew.

I really had no idea how challenging it would be to walk for 5 hours, then run for almost 3, especially on a day like that. It was beautiful outside, but extremely windy. As we reached the highest peak of Catalina Island, at 1800 feet, the wind almost became unbearable. Thank God I had Ko with me. It would have been a hard challenge to go through by myself. We had to walk for a good portion of the remainer of the race, simply because the wind would push us over if we did not ground ourselves. Ko was even knocked over once. I watched birds try to fly and go nowhere. After almost 8 hours on the course, Ko and I finished together with a story that I don't think we could possibly describe with words. Jean, Bob and Donn were there to cheer us in. My longest marathon - but probably my best experience ever.

The challenges of the day were far from over. As I cleaned up and changed into my comfortable, warm sweats (that I had never been so grateful for in my life) I received a call that my boat was cancelled but that we could still ride back on the Catalina Express (a larger boat). I ran to find Jean who was with Donn and Bob. Bob and I ran for another boat that still had room, however the last one out left in 20 minutes. We rounded up Jean and Donn, changed their tickets, but Ko was nowhere to be found. We looked at one another, knowing what one of us had to do. "I'll go find him," Donn finally gave in. Five minutes later, we saw Donn running towards the boat with Ko not far behind. We barely made it on.

I was so happy to be loading the boat. I remembered the Catalina Express - it was clean and warm. We walked inside... all the seats were taken. Only one other option - the open top deck. As we sat on a rocking ship, wind blowing on our cold, post-marathon bodies, waves splashing all around and on us, all we could do was laugh. We even realized that Jean had been given special tickets that would let us in a 'first class' inside area, but we quickly gave those away. Poor Ko was still pretty sick, but we finally made it back in one piece. When we arrived at the port in Long Beach, we had to find a way back to Marina Del Rey. We briefly considered running the 30 mile + distance, but eventually we all decided to settle for a cab. It was on the ride home that I found out that Craig had only had chemo 3 days prior to the race. What a hero.

You guys," Jean said, "this was amazing. Whenever you want to do it again, just let me know!"

"Well, the Moose's next race is in San Diego. You in??" I said to everyone.

They didn't even have to answer, their glances back and forth and mischievious smiles said it all.

5 Days - And then there were five

Brian and I drove home from our dinner at Sante (his new favorite restaurant) around 9:30 - a late hour for us. But with daylight savings occuring the day before, it did not feel so late at all.

"I'm still a little bitter that you beat me home yesterday," he said, reflecting back on his bike ride the day before.

"I was in a CAR, Brian."

Our conversation was interrupted by my cell phone. I looked down... it was Donn. Earlier that day, I had sent him an e-mail regarding our marathon with the Moose the following weekend.

"Okay," he said. "I'm in! Ko is too!"

Now Saturday will consist of Jean, Bob (another friend from our running group who opted to join us), Donn, Ko and me. I can promise, an epic adventure will be had by all!

6 Days till the Catalina Island Marathon

On Saturday morning, I was tired to say the least. Among my many minor physical ailments are cluster migraines, a condition that only a couple of shots at the doctor's office can fix. After receiving those shots on Friday night, running was the last thing on my mind. But I missed my friends. So I was off to join the Goats despite my body's plead to stop and I am glad this time that I didn't listen to my body.

Everyone was in great spirits after running the LA Marathon last weekend. Craig especially. They all spoke about their adventure and I was sad that I hadn't been a part of that. Elaina ran her goal time and PRed at 4:33! Before we took off, I heard Craig talking about the Catalina Marathon next weekend.

"You gonna do it?" I asked.

"Sure am!" he responded.

"Ya know, I was thinking about running it too..." Jean said.

Before I knew it, I was making plans with my friends to head back to Catalina the following weekend. Jean and I would run the race together, then run it backwards till we found Craig and finish with him.

It will feel good to return to the island that brought me such a win in my ultrarunning just a few months ago. This will be a great last training run before American River and I am sure that it will be a day that I will absolutely never forget. Unfortunately Brian will not be able to join me this time due to tax season, but I am so excited about the adventure that lies ahead of me next Saturday. I went and purchased my 'Moose Crew' t-shirt today so I am all set. Craig's last marathon my ass!

Iron Horse

It was exciting to me to travel all the way to Florida for a race.  I am so used to showing up to an ultra now, practically knowing everyone.  I knew this time would be different.  As I walked into the race briefing and up to the front of the room to obtain my goodie bag, I remember thinking, 'Wow, this is my first race in a very long time where no one here even knows my name."  My thoughts were interrupted by a voice behind me...

"Summer?"  I turned around to see a very fit man, probably in his late 30s - early 40s.  

His wife (I assume) smiled at me too.  "He has been reading your blog.  He was excited to meet you today."

"Oh hi!" I said, extremely flattered.  "What is your name?"

He introduced himself as Scott and told me that he was taking on the brave task of running the 100 miler the following day.  The race director Chris was my next stop.  I told him who I was and he knew me immediately from my e-mails to him.  I offered him the $10 that I owed him for switching from the 50 miler to the 100k.  He winked at me and told me not to worry about it.  I was starting to really like Florida ultrarunners.  

I took my seat behind last years winner and in front of two men from Tampa that had driven up to volunteer.  We chatted a little.  Last years winner (I forget his name) had actually placed 2nd in the San Francisco One Day event.  

The next morning I woke up and laced on my shoes, ready to go.  One problem - this was the first time that I had put on my running shoes since I broke my toe and it did not feel good.  My dad, who is always encouraging of my races, raised his eyebrow a little at me when he saw me hobble around a bit, but in a few minutes it felt better.  

We gathered around a fire in the middle, and Chris lead a prayer before we took off.  The men from Tampa had decided to run the 50 miler and then volunteer all night.  I stayed with them for a while but I knew that they were a little too fast for me, so I backed off.  I was still flying at 10 minute miles.  The only problem was that nagging pain in my toe.  I thought that if it stayed the same consistent pain, that it would be ok to run through.  That to me said that I was not injuring it worse.  But it wasn't.  It was hurting more and more.  By mile 18, I officially switched from the 100k to the 5o miler.  I was making great time so I could take it slow until the end and still use this as my qualifier.  My dad noticed around then that my stride was beginning to change, and as a result my left leg began to cramp.  It was beginning to sink in that finishing this race could mean dealing with an injury for the next few months.  At mile 22, I called Brian.

"Think of the big picture,"  he said.  He proceeded to remind me of when he had to drop out of the Long Beach Marathon at mile 25.  Unfortunately, when we choose to take on these distances, things happen.  This is all part of it.

I reached the 25 mile mark (also the place that we started) shortly thereafter.  "I'm out."  I said.  Some of the volunteers encouraged me just to do the 50k so that I could get a medal.  "Thank you," I said "but not today."

Of course I was disappointed, but I did the right thing.  I wasn't defeated by that race like I was at Mt. Disappointment.  I made a conscious decision to let the injury win.  When you are fighting against your mind,  I think that is a battle that you should push through, but not an injury.  

One month till American River!  It is flat and fast and Mike Palmer (the man that I paced in Angeles Crest) has offered to pace me to an 11 hour finish.  Western States is still in my sights for 2009.  If this was easy, I don't think it would mean so much to me.  And by the way, I can say nothing but positive things about the Florida ultrarunning community.  Even though things turned out the way they did, I wouldn't change a thing.  It was a nice training run with some great people that I would not have met otherwise.  And Scott, if you are reading this, I would love to hear how your 100 miler went.  Post a comment with details of your race if you can!

The Marathon of the Moose

I will share my experience with Iron Horse tomorrow. Today there is something bigger than me and bigger than that race that I would like to share. This is an article from the LA Times today:

Cancer victim goes the distance in what could be his last marathon.

March 4, 2008

There he was, tugging the brim of the white cap atop his head, a cap that obscured two ominous scars -- grinning.It was Sunday, just before the start of the 23rd Los Angeles Marathon. Craig Chambers had run in all of them. Now, for the first time, he would walk. All he could do was walk.

I stood near him, determined to match each of his steps for 26.2 miles, determined to get to know him along the way and provide support. I'm a good athlete. I played college tennis, a bit in the pros, and I regularly jog around Silver Lake to keep the pounds off. Walk a marathon? I thought it would be a snap.It figures, knowing what I now know about the man, that despite the cancer that is at war with his body, Craig Chambers would end up supporting me.

Unless you are a serious jogger or you shop at Phidippides, his venerable Encino running-shoe store, you probably don't know of Chambers. But you should, if only because he can show us what pushing limits looks like.Chambers took up running in the 1970s, and distance runs quickly became his way of life. For five years in the '80s, he ran from his Santa Monica home to work each weekday -- 13 miles -- and back when the day was done. Along the way he also plowed through runs all over the world, more than 200 marathons and ultra-marathons in all, some of them in the worst conditions a human being can withstand.

He never focused on speed. He focused on enjoying the journey and bringing others into the running fold.Chambers admits that he never paid enough attention to guarding himself from the sun. Maybe that is why cancer came in 2005. Hunting it down, doctors have taken half of his liver and half a lung, and probed his brain with lasers. Chambers has stage IV melanoma. It is terminal.If the statistics are right -- and with someone like Chambers, you wonder -- this would be his last L.A. Marathon.

There was no time for sadness now. It was Mile 1 and we walked toward the Greek Theatre, surrounded by a half-dozen of his friends: runners he had long mentored and encouraged. Among them were a zookeeper, a paralegal, a retired actuary and Chambers' girlfriend, Kathy Kusner. They have a nickname for Chambers -- Moose -- and on Sunday they wore white shirts with red letters: Moose Crew."Moose! Moose! Moose!" people shouted from the sidewalks as we passed them.At the start, during the cloudy morning, our pace was slow and steady. Chambers was not sure how far he could go. And me? Well, my legs were loose and I felt great.

We walked and talked. I discovered that he loves cities, loves Los Angeles. Between pauses to gather his breath and clear his mind, he spoke admiringly of L.A.'s diversity, its energy and neighborhoods."I am just so happy right now," he kept telling me. "I am just thrilled, thrilled to be here."He said this as he looked down Hollywood Boulevard. "Oh, yeah," he said. "This is just great." It became a mantra.Mile 8. Mile 9. Hancock Park. Koreatown. The sun rose. He still looked good, looked chipper.My shirt began dripping with sweat. We passed under the Santa Monica Freeway.

I asked him about the cancer.With an air of detachment, he told me he chooses not to dwell on his illness. Surviving this, he said, is like surviving a long-distance run. You go about it methodically, steadily. "You run 100 miles and you don't know when you start that you can do it . . . but you do . . . the limits are not what you think. You just keep on going."We walked down Central Avenue, once the heart of black Los Angeles, now tattered. He is a quiet man, an introvert, but I noticed as we walked that something about him makes people feel comfortable and good. Little kids, grandmothers and teenage boys held out bananas and slices of oranges. "You go, Moose! You go, Moose!" they chanted.

Chambers gave handshakes, high-fives and smiles.Mile 17. I found out that he loves Obama and Chalmers Johnson, J.D. Salinger and Kierkegaard. I found out about the time he has spent jogging in Watts and on Skid Row, befriending addicts and lost souls, just because he loves meeting people from all corners and befriending people he'd normally never know.

I thought of how I had never met anyone quite like Craig Chambers.Mile 18. Mile 19. Mile 20. Even though I was only walking, I could feel it: the proverbial wall. We pushed through Los Angeles at its industrial best: strip clubs and abandoned buildings and low-slung factories. My feet felt as if I were walking on hot coals. I was lightheaded. I had not eaten enough, had not drunk enough.Craig, how do you deal with the pain?"You're going to be fine," he said. "You know, I biked across Death Valley and back. Two hundred miles. I stopped in the middle of Death Valley to do a 10-mile swim in Furnace Creek. Then I ran over 100 miles back the length of Death Valley. The air that comes off the asphalt was 180 degrees or so. . . . Walking this long is harder than we think. Come on, you're doing fine."My hamstrings stiffened. It felt as if the veins in my legs were filling with cement instead of blood.

He wasn't having an easy time of it, either. Sweat now poured off his cap. Now he walked with a slight tilt to the right. "It's good . . ." he said before pausing, "that it hurts a little. You want to test yourself. You've done really well today."

The finish neared. We walked past old downtown buildings that are now lofts, past bums and hustlers. We were nearing nine hours on the course and I felt like heading to a pay phone to call a taxi.

But I looked at him, this man with cancer who might not make it to next year, and I got goose bumps.

He became reenergized as he saw the sign that read Mile 26. He no longer leaned to the right. There were just a few steps more.The Moose Crew surrounded him, clapping and patting his back.

Craig Chambers crossed the finish line looking as spry and lively as he had all day: back straight, gait smooth. He looked as if he could just keep on going.