Tahoe Rim Trail 100 -- 26:53:20

Snow Valley aid station at mile 93

Summary
This was the most difficult race that I have ever done and I still have a lot to learn about this distance. I battled dehydration, diarrhea, and some dizziness. With the support of family and friends, and especially my awesome "safety runner", Amanda, I'm very happy and proud to have completed this difficult and beautiful race. It took me 26 hours 53 minutes to cover 100 miles, with 18,000' of elevation gain, at an average elevation of 8,000'.

I don't want to sugar-coat this experience. Yes, the scenery was frequently gorgeous, with expansive views of Lake Tahoe and surrounding snow-capped mountains. Yes, crossing the finish line after almost 27 hours of running and hiking, accompanied by my pacer and friend Amanda, was a precious tear-jerking emotional moment -- a combination of intense joy and relief and sense of accomplishment. Yes, the belt buckle is beautiful and is a wonderful memento of this challenge. Yes, seeing friends and being part of this wonderfully supportive ultrarunning community is very uplifting and enriching. But still, I want to remember that this race was incredibly difficult and that I spent many hours suffering and cursing to myself. So, would I do it again? Writing this the day after the race, I would have to say, "Maybe... probably... but 50 miles is still plenty challenging!"

Why Tahoe Rim Trail 100?
I had a lot more to learn about this distance versus the shorter distances and I felt ready to be challenged again. 100 miles is much different and much more difficult (to me) than 50 miles or even 100 km (62 miles). Even the 69 mile race across England last year would be easy by comparison. I had run nine 50 milers, two 100Ks, and two 100 milers (out of four attempts) up to this point.

This is a seriously beautiful course that consists of two identical 50 mile loops. I've done the 50 mile race (one loop) twice before, most recently two years ago, so I was familiar with the course.

The race organization and course markings and aid station support are all top-notch. I have volunteered twice for this race, both times overnight at the Diamond Peak aid station.

Goals

1. Don't get permanently injured; my health and safety come first.
2. Finish! I didn't want another DNF ("Did Not Finish") like at Javelina Jundred last year.
3. Don't run the first half faster than a 22 hour finish pace. I thought that 22 hours was the fastest possible time I could do this race. I calculated this two different ways -- 1) estimating my speeds on various terrain and adding in time for all the breaks and 2) taking some top runners' times, and calculating the factor to go from 50 miles to 100 miles (it came to about 2.2). Both estimates gave a best-case finish time of 22 hours.

Preparations
My peak training week was 100 miles, which is great, but once again, I didn't have a lot of other long weeks or long runs. My longest two training runs were 35 miles and 31 miles. Still, this was about as good as I could do, given my obligations and even interest in running. (You can have too much of a good thing!)

Mor and I, at the Big Basin 50K on 6/4. This was a key training run for me.

I tried to do more leg strengthening exercises, like lunges, one-legged sit-to-stands, and one-legged hopping up and down stairs. I wanted to avoid the progressive soreness that I experienced at Mountain Lakes 100 last September.

My key races in the previous 12 months:

• 9/25 Mountain Lakes 100, 23:34:14
• 12/18 California International Marathon, 2:57:49
• 2/4 Fort Ord 50K, 4:42:58
• 4/23 Boston Marathon, 3:10:16

My weekly mileage:

• 4/30 66.1
• 5/7 58.7
• 5/14 76.2
• 5/21 65.2 My right heel started hurting in the mornings. Plantar fasciitis?
• 5/28 82.2
• 6/4 51.3 ran Big Basin 50K -- half as a training run, half as a race
• 6/11 46.1 had some recovery days
• 6/18 100.2
• 6/25 37.6 volunteered at Western States and had a lot of discomfort in my heel.
• 7/2 68.4
• 7/9 46.5 ran Rocket Run on 7/4 -- 5.0 miles in 30:10, with no pain in my heel.
• 7/16 106 I only ran 6 miles in the 5 days leading up to the race! But my right heel was hurting more than ever.

So, I was basically in top physical condition with the worrisome exception of possible plantar fasciitis. I did one-legged heel dips and raises every morning, at the edge of a step, 20 on each heel. This would nearly immediately clear up the pain. And when running, my heel almost always loosened up and felt fine.

Week Before
I rented a house in South Lake Tahoe, in order to acclimate to the altitude, and arrived 7 days before the race start. I invited friends and family, but it was just me and my sister Jessica until Thursday when everyone else arrived.

Jessica and I did a bit of decorating...

Day Before
It was my daughter's 15th birthday and I wanted it to be special, even though this conflicted with my race preparations and goals. I enjoyed going to the nearby beautiful Angora Lake with her and my family and my friend Paula, too. The weather was quite warm and I did one long swim across the lake. Jennifer said that I looked dehydrated because my eyes looked sunken. Oh oh.

Claire and Jennifer

Paula and me

I ate mostly carbs and protein (nuts) and very little fiber, in the hopes of not having to defecate during the race. (Foreshadowing: that did *not* work out!).

Paula and I went to Carson City to pick up our bibs and for me to attend the mandatory 100 mile check-in. The information was actually useful for all runners for all three races. The race director reported that the trails were 97% dirt because so much snow had melted in the past week. That was good news! The downside was that our feet were going to get wet in the river crossings of the Red House Loop.

I met up with Pete Briggs and Gary Lindberg. I tried to drink extra water, but it was difficult in the 95 (?) degree weather to drink enough, plus there were no public drinking fountains there.

Pete and me. My eyes show my dehydration.

For the mandatory weigh-in, I was expecting to weigh about 170 lbs because I was wearing my shoes and clothes. At first the reported 164.6 lbs sounded good -- "I've lost weight!". But then the reality sunk in that I was very likely dehydrated already. Oh oh. The medical professional rounded my weight down and wrote "164" on my wristband that I was required to wear for the whole race.

That night, I had a difficult time sleeping, due to nervous energy plus the warm nights in the house plus my sister and the kids were busy talking in the hot tub near my open sliding glass door. (I had an upstairs room, which got really warm.) I wanted my daughter's birthday to be special and to not interrupt them, so I closed the sliding glass door, but then the heat made for a hard time sleeping. I had taken two anti-histamine pills (diphenhydramine) but that didn't really knock me out. On top of all of that, my right heel was hurting and I took an ibuprofen, too. I tried not to get too worried and to relax.

Race Day!!!
My alarm went off at 2:30am, to give me time to eat (two bagels, toasted with peanut butter) and drink a bit of water. Jennifer was kind enough to drive me to the start. I think I confided in her that I was very uncertain about how the day would go. Privately, I wasn't sure I could go even one mile. I mean, if my heel hurt from the beginning, I might need to turn-around right away.

I saw my friends Pete, Gary, Paula, and Veronica. I dropped off my finish-line bag and did my final preparations. There was excitement in the air!

Veronica was a pacer for this race and is an accomplished ultrarunner. I run with her occasionally along the Embarcadero in San Francisco.

Paula! Getting ready for the 50 miler.

At 5am, after some brief announcements by the race director plus a stirring playing of the national anthem, we were off! Woo hoo!

On the way to Hobart, my heel felt perfect. Yay! I tried to take it nice and easy, and to not exceed the pace (taking into account hills) for an 11 hour 17 minute first loop (50 miles). I got into Hobart 5 or 6 minute ahead of schedule, but I was OK with that. Soon, my headlamp wasn't needed. The temperature was comfortable and short sleeves were fine.

Somewhere along the way, I heard someone behind me say, "I shouldn't be passing Ron Little". I laughed. "Pete!" I pulled aside and let him pass.

Tunnel Creek, mile 12 -- This is the only place I had a drop-bag and I would visit here 6 times. I quickly stashed my headlamp and grabbed my bandanna and hat. I was pretty much on track for my optimistic finish time. I filled up with ice, even though it was only about 7:40am. The day was warming up quickly!

Red House, mile 15 -- a couple of very fast runners (55K? 50 mile?) passed me. These races started one hour later than the hundred miler. I think one of them was Rory Bosio who crushed the 50 mile race, winning overall and setting the women's record, too. I had met Rory while running Firetrails 50 Mile in 2009 where she had asked me if I knew any jokes and then she pulled away and beat me by 15 minutes in that race. Way to go, Rory!

I was getting warm but the ice around my neck felt good. "Slow and easy, slow and easy," I kept telling myself. I kept on imagining being here again 50 miles later, and still having a long ways to go. My feet got thoroughly soaked in three stream crossings, coming up to my knees in one spot, but I wasn't worried; my feet would soon dry out in the heat. I felt my right heel a bit, but I was still comfortable.

Somewhere along here my urine was a solid dark yellow. Damn. I was probably dehydrated from the beginning.

Tunnel Creek, mile 18.5 -- still on track for my optimistic time. I grabbed an extra 20 oz water bottle for my vest because I had the longest leg coming up in the heat of the day. I re-applied sunscreen, but then made a possible critical error. I forgot to refill on ice. It was a long slow climb to Bull Wheel.

Bull Wheel, mile 21.5 -- This aid station is very difficult to access (supplies have to be delivered by a ski lift) and as expected, they didn't have ice. I couldn't refill my bandanna. I filled up all three water bottles, for a total of 60 oz. Onward to the longest leg, of 8.5 miles!

Somewhere on the long descent to Diamond Peak, I kicked a rock hard with my right foot and all the force seemed to be delivered to my big toenail. Ouch! I stumbled but didn't fall. I would feel my big toenail pretty much for the remainder of the race. But the good news was that my heel had stabilized and wasn't a problem at all.

I stopped to soak my bandanna in a stream -- nice!

Diamond Peak, mile 30 -- Coming into the aid station, I had the slight hope of seeing Jennifer or Claire, but they weren't there; it was too difficult with Claire's friends for Claire to spend a lot of time waiting around at an aid station. I think I was still on track for my optimistic time. I still had a bit of water and sports drink left and I was glad I had carried three bottles.

Pete! Gary! I got through the aid station quickly and was on to the most difficult climb of the race -- 2 miles straight up the mountain, underneath a ski lift. About halfway up, I looked back at the gorgeous scenery and there was Gary! Wow, what a machine. He power-hiked right by me. I don't think I could go any faster if I wanted. Gary reported that Pete was having "digestive issues". Bummer. I estimate that Gary did the climb 10 minutes faster than me.

I kept telling myself to take it easy and to not worry about being too slow. I kept thinking back to Mountain Lakes 100 and to Headlands 100, where my leg muscles became significantly sore and I was forced to slow down.

Tunnel Creek (35), Hobart (40), Snow Valley (43) -- these go by, slow and steady, but I was slowing down. There were some snow fields that needed to be crossed, which slowed us all down also. I grabbed a chunk of snow and smashed it on my head and put my hat on it, to help keep me cool. I was getting tired and was still probably dehydrated (dark yellow urine). All of the climbing to Snow Valley decisively set me back time-wise. Oh, well. Keep moving.

Coming into mile 50, I felt the urge to defecate. This would become a reoccurring theme. On top of dehydration, I had developed mild diarrhea. I had to make an emergency pitstop in the woods. Bummer.

Spooner Lake, mile 50 -- I was about 30 minutes behind my optimistic schedule, but I didn't care. I wanted to "hold it together" and not degrade. In hindsight, I wish I had made more of an effort to re-hydrate, but I just couldn't quite catch up.

I was feeling quite tired and sleepy in the late afternoon now, so I tried closing my eyes for five strides at a time, on parts of the fire road that were smooth and straight. I only did this a few times, but I think it helped a bit. I was wondering to myself why I was here and why I was doing this. I wasn't happy.

One area had thousands of white moths fluttering about the aspen (?) trees. The whole scene was beautiful. I was grateful to not have the clouds of gnats that come out in the late afternoon at lower elevations near Lake Tahoe.

I chatted for a long while with a guy from Bishop (must have been Todd Vogel, based on the results). I asked about pacing and our estimated finish times and he pointed out that all the top finishers run slower in the second half, because of being sore and tired and the darkness. "You're going to slow down, so you might as well plan on it." I think he's right, and I need to learn better about how to estimate my finish time in a hundred miler.

Hobart, mile 56.9 -- the shadows were getting long. I needed to get to Tunnel Creek where my headlamps were before nightfall. I had about a two hour cushion, so I wasn't too worried, but if I degraded significantly, I could be caught in the dark.

Paula!!! She was coming into Hobart (mile 40 for her), finishing up her 50 miler. She was running well! Good job, Paula!

Tunnel Creek, mile 62 -- I was tired and mentally in a bit of a fog. A volunteer offered to get my drop-bag and said "hi, Ron Little, I'm Annie and we met in the 50 mile race a while back". "Annie Rutledge!" I exclaimed. I remembered meeting her (plus re-reading my blog a couple of times over the years refreshed my memory). Cool! "I remember you were a really fast marathon runner doing your first 50K." Looking through my blog, I had last met her in 2012. Wow, time flies. She got me food and drink and was very patient with me even though I accidentally dropped my grilled cheese sandwich in the dirt. After a porta-pottie visit I was on my way again. Thank you, Annie! Just as I was leaving, there was Gary!!! He said he had been throwing up earlier which is how I passed him without seeing him. I wanted to wait for him, but I was really eager to get going and get to Amanda at mile 80 and get this race done with.

Red House, mile 66 -- the steep descent and stream crossings were slower now, in the night. I realized I was going to be super late to Amanda. I had predicted an arrival time as early as 10:45pm, but it was going to be hours later. I hoped that my race progress at various aid stations was going out to the website.

I kicked a branch hard, again with my right foot, and again with my big toe. My poor toenail. On the positive side, I hadn't fallen. I tried to stay positive -- my stomach was sort of unsettled, but I was still eating frequently and was consuming about 350 calories an hour.

Tunnel Creek, mile 68.5 -- the steep climb up again was slow. I was getting passed by some faster runners now. I got refueled and was on my way. I saw the lead hundred milers coming back the other way. Wow, they were 16 to 17 miles ahead of me. Depressing.

Bull Wheel, mile 71.5 -- slow, slow, slow. I fuelled up with three 20 oz bottles again, just in case.

Descending into Diamond Peak, I couldn't last until the aid station, and I had more psuedo-diarhea. I also stopped to shake small rocks out of one shoe. Athough I wore gaiters over my shoes, all of the water from the stream crossings delivered grit and dirt into my shoes.

Diamond Peak, mile 80 -- Jessica! Amanda! I was so grateful that they had waited so long. I think it was around 1:30am now. I was suddenly in much better spirits. We took some photos, I got some food, I used the restroom yet again, and I handed my extra water bottle to Jess because I wouldn't need it again, and we were off!

Unfortunately, it didn't take long before I got into my worst slump. I just couldn't catch my breath. I was still dehydrated (dark yellow urine) and having four rounds of near-diarhea hadn't helped either. My pace slowed to literally a crawl, meaning I couldn't walk any faster than I could crawl. I stared at the ground underneath my headlamp and focused on where I would place my foot next. I finally walked over to the side of the road and sat down. Amanda was patient and encouraging. "Think of the belt buckle" she said at one point, which was helpful. I got up and started trudging forward again. And when I had to stop, I felt dizzy. I moved forward. Stopped. Dizzy. I was miserable and getting worried about my condition. I thought of dropping. "I'm getting dizzy when I stop," I told her. She asked, "Are you dizzy when you're moving?" "No." "Well, then don't stop." Makes sense. I imagined that I would humor her and then drop at the top of the slope, at Bull Wheel, which would mean I would have to hike back down this incredibly steep slope. I started hiking in a diagonal pattern, so that it would be less steep. I continued drinking lots of sports drink. I probably ate an energy gel. Finally, finally, after one hour and 11 minutes, I had covered the two miles and we were nearly at the next aid station.

Bull Wheel, mile 82 -- I resuplied and warned Amanda that we had mostly uphill to go until nearly the end of the race and that this was going to be a slog. Well, I had forgotten that most of the way from Tunnel Creek to Bull Wheel was uphill, so we actually had a pretty sweet downhill. I was in a better mood and was running pretty well.

I finally put on my arm sleeves at some point, since it was getting colder.

Tunnel Creek, mile 85 -- Another porta-potty visit. This would be my last one of the race, thankfully. I ran into Veronica and her runner Jessi. I foolishly talked out loud about how grateful I was to be done with Diamond Peak. Poor Jessi was having a hard day and she was on her way north, about 17 miles behind me, just like I had earlier been 17 miles behind the leaders. Sorry, Jessi! (She did end up finishing still.)

But good news, my urine was getting clear! The cool night air, plus my incredibly slow pace, plus having drinking a lot was paying off. I finally had overcome dehydration!

The sky was no longer pitch black. It promised to be a beautiful morning in beautiful countryside, but I was tired.

I ran my fastest section of the race so far, on the descent to Hobart. But that was offset by the snow sections.

Hobart, mile 90 -- I tried to be quick about it, and got walking out of the aid station, telling Amanda she'll catch me soon.

Snow Valley, mile 93 -- this was the final climb!!! The scenery was stunning.

On the long descent, I was starting to feel desperate for the finish. Less than 7 miles to go! I was running sort-of well much of the time. I was not experiencing the painful muscle soreness of the other two hundred milers that I've done. Still, there were lots of rocks and tripping hazards, and I wasn't exactly fast.

Amanda kicked a rock and went down hard in front of me. I held my breath, hoping she was OK. She had done a super-woman dive but had managed to turn her head to avoid a face plant. It looked like she had mostly landed in dirt and she announced she was OK. Breathe. She shook herself off, examined her new scrapes, and we were soon off again. "I like to take a fall for all my runners," she joked.

As the morning dragged on, I noticed I was having minor hallucinations. Out of the corner of my eye, my first impressions of various objects were kind of crazy, but when I looked directly at them, the reality became clear. So, I don't know if I would call this an actual hallucinations, but more of a "crazy first impression". For example, I would think that I saw a person squatting inside a wood-stick hut with their arms sticking out in a weird way, but it was really just a big jagged tree stump.

A fast runner and his pacer passed us. I didn't care.

I was getting impatient and frustrated at how long it was taking to get to the next and last aid station, which was just a self-help table. I knew I wasn't lost, but I just didn't recognize now how much farther we had. Finally, finally, I heard the sounds of cars that meant we were near the road next to Spooner Lake. So close. There it is!

Spooner Summit, mile 98.3 -- with so short a distance left, I didn't stop and I didn't care if I ran out of water. I picked up the pace and led the way in front of Amanda. I passed a runner who was walking, whom I recognized from earlier in the day. I congratulated him and picked up the pace some more, since I imagined I heard him start running fast behind me. This final section was mostly fast and I was running faster than I had run the whole race. It felt like about 7.5 minutes per mile.

So close....   the path widened and Amanda was by my side. She started to tear-up with emotion. I wasn't quite there with her yet; I was depleted and running hard to finish this thing. I made a right turn towards the finish line. The final turn. I may have mumbled something about being careful not to trip in the last couple hundred meters. I was running fast. I was home. Tears of relief and joy started flowing. There were scattered cheers. (Thank you, Annie, for being at the finish line, I found out later). I thanked Amanda for saving the race for me. A week later, I think there was about a 50% chance I would have walked back down that hill and dropped at mile 80 without her.

I felt unsettled and deeply tired. I wasn't hungry at all. I thanked the volunteers profusely and chatted with a photographer who had run the 55K and was waiting for his girlfriend to finish the hundred miler.

Wow, what an adventure and what a challenge.

I couldn't wait until the 4pm ceremony before getting my belt buckle, but the race director mailed it to me. It's beautiful.

What worked well

• I finished my third 100 mile race and am uninjured.
• My leg muscles held up and never became incredibly sore, unlike at Mountain Lakes 100 or Headlands 100.
• I never fell or got lost. (The course was marked incredibly well, but still, going off course is always a danger.)
• Mostly, my stomach held up and I had gotten on top of my hydration.
• Having three 20 oz water bottles for the 8.5 mile leg worked well. I have a hydration pack with a bladder that indicates 64 oz, but I measured it before the race and it actually was carrying only 52 oz. This allowed me to feel safe in going with handheld water bottles and a running vest.
• Carrying a small sample-size Squirrel Nut Butter in an easy-to-access pocket helped save my nipples.
• Putting on big strips of moleskin where my running vest rubs my neck worked great. The strips stayed on the whole time.
• My shoes, Hoka One One ATR 3s, worked well.
• My Garmin watch lasted about 18 hours, which was expected and which was fine.

Things to improve

• Be well-hydrated before the race!!! I should have drank a lot more water in the couple of days leading up to the race. Maybe I should have stayed in an air-conditioned house or hotel.
• When planning my pace chart, take into account the inevitable slowing down at night, due to the darkness and just being tired and sore.
• My main headlight, Petzl Tikka R+, ran out of power, as expected, after about 6 hours. This time, I was sure that it was in "max autonomy" mode which is supposed to last 13 hours, but that's not true. My 2nd headlamp was much weaker, but it at least provided sufficient light all night. I wish I had one bright and reliable headlamp that can go all night.

Random data

• I consumed 6 S-cap salt pills and 2 regular strength Tylenol.
• Weight (approximately) a week before: 166.2 lbs
• Weight on the afternoon of the day before, fully clothed: 164.6 lbs (might have been equivalent to 162.6 for a morning naked weight)
• Weight the morning after: 160.2 lbs
• Results. I was 38 out of 150 finishers. 61 runners did not finish.
• Pete and Gary also finished the 100 miler. Yay! Paula, Mike, and Stanley all finished the 50 miler. I was proud that our little Coastside Running Club has so many accomplished runners.
• Pete's race report
• Paula's race report

Tahoe Rim Trail 50 Mile -- 9:53:58

A beautiful morning at the race start

Summary

I had a good week in Lake Tahoe, topped off by a successful finish to the Tahoe Rim Trail 50 mile race on Saturday, July 18. It took me 9 hours 54 minutes to run and hike the 50.2 miles in the mountains along Lake Tahoe, and that was good for 12th place overall (out of 140 finishers, but I don't know how many starters). It got tough and I felt weak for many hours, from about miles 22-25 and 32-40, as I struggled to get in enough calories and water and to get my heart rate and breathing under control. Also, my right big toenail did not get along with my shoe. All-in-all the race was a good tough challenge and I'm glad I did it. I was about 10 minutes slower than three years ago.

The weather was great for running -- nice and cool in the morning and never really too hot. The scenery was gorgeous, when I took a moment to appreciate it. The race was superbly well-organized, as usual, and had fantastic volunteers and course markings.

It was wonderful seeing so many friends from my Coastside Running Club. We only have 50-60 active members and yet we sent eight runners to this race, with six in the 100 miler! It's truly amazing that we have so many accomplished runners in such a small club!

I'm very grateful to my wife for supporting this endeavor, and to my friend, Mor, for renting a house with me and keeping me motivated and focused for 10 of the toughest miles.

Details

I ran this 50 mile race three years ago (race report), and I really loved the whole scene, so much so that I did the long drive for the last two years in order to volunteer. I felt like giving the 50 miler another shot this year.

My friend Mor and I rented a great vacation house and opened it up to other running friends, in order to acclimate to the altitude. The elevation of the race ranges mostly between 7,000' and 9,000'. We checked in on the Sunday evening, six days before the race.

8.2 mile training run near Genoa, NV

Larry and Mor, at the vacation home

A beautiful day at Emerald Bay with my brother and two nephews

Emerald Bay

Bill and my nephews, enjoying some high altitude mountain biking!

Finally, race day arrived! I got to the starting area at Spooner Lake just in time for the 5am start of the 100 miler. I wasn't able to find any of my six friends from the running club who were in the 100 miler, but I walked around and took some pictures.

Start of the 100 miler

I used a porta-potty twice, without having to wait in line. I put on suncreen. I'm feeling good, all systems are go!  

Ready to run!

The race started at 6am, in the cool air and now partially overcast skies, with the 55K and 50 mile runners together. I felt at ease and just kept reminding myself to take it easy. I chatted with a guy named Jeff who casually pointed out the spot, around mile 6, where he broke his toe in the 100 mile the previous year, but he finished the race. Ouch!

By my pace chart, I was expecting the first aid station, Hobart, to be at mile 6, but it was very close to mile 7. (I had trouble finding good info about the aid station locations on the race website.) This is a steady climb and I walked little sections of the steepest uphills. At the aid station, I wasn't very efficient with filling my hydration pack; it's kind of a pain and I hadn't practiced on being quick about it. I vowed to improve at the remaining aid stations. I left with about 40 ounces of sports drink.

There's more of a climb after Hobart but then there's some fast smooth single-track trail down to Tunnel Creek aid station at mile 12. I got in a line with a couple of other guys and we were cruising pretty fast. I tried to keep reminding myself that we had a long ways to go! We passed a few of the slowest 100 milers.

At Tunnel Creek, around mile 12, I filled up again, probably to around 40 ounces. Then begins a very steep descent into the Red House loop. I decided to press my lap timer, so that for the future I could have more accurate distances between the aid stations, but in the process I dropped my very tasty Nutella and banana sandwich square that I got at the aid station. I picked it up off the ground and tried to eat it, but it was too sandy and I ended up spitting it out.

Dan Rhodes! I came across the first friend from my running club. I figured he was at least an hour ahead of me (6.5 miles, approximately), which meant he was running his 100 mile race at the same pace that I was running the 50 miler. We have similar speeds in the long races, and I had been acclimating to the altitude for nearly a week, so I was concerned that he was running too fast. He looked great though and was in good spirits. Onward!

Along this loop, I came across a morbidly funny scene. Someone had placed a fake skeleton on the side of the trail, dressed in a Miwok 100K shirt with a racing bib, running shorts, and running shoes. Funny!

Norm Armstrong! Way to go, Norm!

I got a fill-up at Red House Aid Station, and then it was time to trek back up to Tunnel Creek. While putting on my hydration pack, I awkwardly stretched my shoulder back and felt a twinge of cramping in my shoulder. Oh oh! I've only gone about 15 miles! I better be careful and slow down and eat and drink plenty.

Omar Droubi! Way to go, Omar!

Chris Hawthorne! Way to go, Chris! We did a two-handed high-five ("high ten?") and congratulated each other. He was doing his first 50 miler and we were going in opposite directions. He was descending into the Red House loop as I was climbing out of it.

I got back to Tunnel Creek, at mile 18.5, and was feeling good. It's only 3 miles to the next aid station and I didn't get any more sports drink, so that saved time. I grabbed a bit of food. The wonderful volunteers double-checked that I already did the Red House loop, and it's time to head north and split with the 55K runners.

Cesare Rotundo! (I think I caught up to him before Bull Wheel, but I'm not sure.) He was in great spirits on his 100 mile journey and he filmed a little bit with his GoPro camera on a stick.

I arrive at Bull Wheel at mile 21.5 and get a full fill-up of sports drink -- 64 ounces. Now begins the longest leg between aid stations, somewhere between 8.1 and 8.5 miles. (Again, it's hard to find accurate info about the distances.)

Not too long afterwards, I begin to deteriorate. I feel much weaker and my breathing is more labored. Oh, no, it's much too early to feel like this! I stayed calm and told myself to be patient and to just take it easy and walk the uphills. I knew it's possible to recover if I give myself some time. Finally, I finished the climb and then begins a long descent into Diamond Peak Lodge, at mile 30. I was able to run well on this downhill and I was steadily passing hundred milers. Someone asked if I was the lead 50 miler. "No, definitely not, but thank you for asking!"

Then I suddenly felt sharp pains in my right big toe nail on every step. "Ouch ouch ouch !@$%". Something was really wrong. I curled my toe downward and that seemed to help. I almost stopped to check out the problem or maybe tighten my shoelaces since it seemed like my foot was sliding forward too much in my shoe, smashing my toenail. I thought of my friend George Miller who is an expert on foot care who would be at Diamond Peak Lodge. Then the pain subsided. I decided to not work on the problem until I finished the race, so there was no need to tell anyone about it at the aid station.

I recalled being on this same trail the previous year, as a "sweeper". This is a volunteer in a race who follows the very last runner (who is usually not doing any running at all by this point). I was grateful that I was able to cruise along well rather than slowly walking behind someone.

Diamond Peak Lodge!!! Amanda! Larry! Kristin! Mor! It was great seeing a bunch of familiar friendly faces.

Feeling OK at mile 30

Getting a quick refueling at Diamond Peak Lodge, at mile 30.

A quick fill-up later, and we're off! It was good to have Mor's company. We power-hiked up the entire 2 miles underneath a ski lift. There were some very steep sections. Almost none of it was runnable in a long race like this.

Photo by Amanda:

Photo by Amanda from later in the day, when she paced Chris:

After the long long steep uphill climb, we got to Bull Wheel again. (Photo by Amanda.)

Then we had soon had some nice downhill, which was good, because I started feeling weak again. My breathing was quick and heavy. I couldn't seen to catch my breath, so I needed to walk nearly every bit of uphill. I could run OK on the downhills, though.

Mor and I, around mile 33. (Photo courtesy of Sam.)

We got to Tunnel Creek again, at mile 35. I was struggling.

Jill Cole! Way to go, Jill! We clasped hands briefly and wished each other luck. She was rocking the 100 miler.

Finally, we got to Hobart at about mile 40. Still struggling. They had a great sense of humor. It amazes me that these aid stations can have so much equipment and supplies in the middle of nowhere.

Hobart aid station had a good sense of humor! (Photo courtesy of Amanda.)

Having Mor there was great. He led the way. "On your left!" "Passing on your right!" "BIKE!!!" I was like a VIP with a bodyguard. One of the 100 milers we passed and possibly some of the bicyclists were a bit put-off by Mor's forcefulness, but I didn't mind, and I thought it was funny. If you're reading this, thank you again, Mor, I really appreciated having you there. This was a long low period for me.

Shortly after Hobart, I was feeling better and was able to run more of the uphills. I urged Mor to go faster. But then he said he's having a problem. I asked him if he was safe. He said "yes" and that I should go ahead. I told him he would catch me soon. And then I was off, alone again, but moving pretty well, doing the last hard climb, up to Snow Valley Peak.

Dan Rhodes! I caught up to him. He was walking and had seriously bonked and had an upset stomach that kept him from eating or drinking much. He was cognitively and emotionally in good shape and realized that he just needed to take time to regroup. There was going to be a lot of walking in the hours ahead, but he was in no danger of missing cut-offs and he planned on recovering at mile 50 (the start/finish) for a while. He was going to have our most experienced ultrarunner, Franz, for the second half. We wished each other luck and I was on my way.

The scenery is absolutely stunning up here. (Photo by Amanda.)

Snow Valley Peak aid station, at mile 42 or 43. (Photo by Amanda.)

I became unfocused at the Snow Valley Peak aid station. I felt thirsty for water and so I got a fill-up to about 40 ounces, but I saw a large paper cup of water just sitting there that looked so delicious, that I drank it on the spot. Then I refilled it and drank it again. Then I looked over the food offerings before going for another two energy gels. All I really needed was the water and then I should have got out of there!

Then begins the blessed descent home. I was moving pretty well until I felt another sudden urge to defecate, but this feeling was too strong to ignore. I found a fallen tree off the trail to lean against and to offer some privacy. This added probably about 4 minutes to my time. I got back on the trail and a hundred miler said I looked like I had enough energy to do another loop. "Looks can be deceiving! I'm running on fumes and need to finish soon!"

Spooner Summit aid station! I had plenty of water so I waved to them and blew on by.

The last 1.7 miles is surprisingly tortuous, because the finish area looks like it's a half mile away, but the trail meanders around the shoreline, teasing you! At one point, a 50 miler runner in front of me kept going straight on the trail, instead of turning left to go over a small foot bridge. The route was well marked, but there was no chalk or signs in front of us, and it's easy to let your guard down and be on auto-pilot. "Left turn!", I yelled. He was very thankful as I made the turn and pulled away. I increased my effort, to have a strong finish, but then I felt light-headed and over-heated and "out of sorts". I didn't want to faint within a half mile of the finish! So, I walked up one short but steep hill. Some spectators cheered. I was guided to the finish line trail. I slowed down to get around a 55K runner. Then I picked up speed and crossed the finish line, hands in the air! Woo hoo!

I felt unsteady and light-headed and sat down for a bit in the finisher's tent. The very nice volunteer gave me the finisher's plaque and asked me my age, to see if I was an age group winner. (I wasn't.) I leaned over with my head between my legs to try to regain my composure (and maybe oxygen to my brain). I was happy to be done!

Larry! He had volunteered all day at Diamond Peak Lodge but he had come to the finish area. It was good to have his company.

A while later, after I got myself my drop bag, called home, and texted family, I heard from Mor and Dan. They had arrived and Dan was recovering up the hill a ways. I just didn't feel like standing, so I stayed where I was.

Mor arrived and we caught up on the events of the last couple hours. He had caught up to Dan and walked/ran him in.

Mor, enjoying the post-race massage!

After recovering for a bit, I did the long drive home (5 hours, I think). That was a long day! It was great to get home and see Claire and Jennifer again. Whew!

Coastside Running Club results
100 miler
Gary Lindberg 25:47:21
Jill Cole 25:58:25
Dan Rhodes 27:31:59
Cesare Rotundo 30:58:46
Omar Droubi -- apparently dropped at mile 67.5 at 3:31am on Sunday
Norm Armstrong -- apparently dropped at mile 50.2 at 8:56pm on Saturday

50 miler

Ron Little 9:53:58
Chris Hawthorne 15:22:45

I'm really proud of all of us, especially the hundred milers. This is a hard course.

What went well

• I basically had a solid 50 mile race. I was only 10 minutes slower than 3 years ago and I placed the same as 3 years ago (12th).
• Didn't get lost. No falls. No injuries.
• No cramps! I had just a couple of twinges that warned of imminent cramps, but I managed to avoid falling off that performance cliff.
• I only ran out of water once, for about 20 minutes.
• No chafing. No blisters to speak of except for the bad problem with my right big toe.

Things to improve on

• I probably ran the first 12 miles too fast.
• Had to defecate during the race, adding probably four minutes to my time. I tried to not each much fiber the day before, but apparently I don't really know how to avoid this problem.
• I should have gotten ice in my hat and maybe a spray-down at Diamond Peak Lodge. It's a hot brutal climb from there.
• I apparently didn't take enough precautions with my right big toe nail. It started the race in a rough funky state. In some previous long run, it had gotten a blister underneath, but never fell off. I think the toe nail was raised and started catching part of my shoe on the downhills. I'm writing this the day after the race and I'm wondering if I need to seek medical attention for it.

Random data

• I didn't wear a heart rate monitor again. I appreciated not having the hassle. I don't know if the info would have helped me run better.
• I only urinated once during the race, around mile 20-25.
• My weight six days before the race: 168.0 lbs. The night after: about 165 lbs. The morning after: 163.2 lbs.
• My Garmin data.

Tahoe Rim Trail 50 Mile

Feeling good at around mile 40.
(Photo copyright Facchino Photography. Used with permission.)

Short Version

I finished this tough but beautiful 50 mile race in 9 hours 43 minutes, and 12th place overall, out of 177 starters. It was a beautiful day with great weather and gorgeous scenery. The trails were very steep in places, including a 2 mile stretch with 1700' of climb underneath a ski lift. I had some tough spots, but am happy and uninjured.

Long Version
I had signed up for the Tahoe Rim Trail 50 Mile race long in advance, based on the good things I had heard about it from friends and also because I was looking for a 50 mile race that would keep me qualified to enter Western States 100.

I came into this race with some trepidation for various reasons. Training-wise, I just wasn't getting in as many long runs or as many miles as I thought I should. For example, I didn't manage to run more than a marathon since my fantastic 50K at the end of February, whereas normally I would do at least a couple 30 mile training runs. Also, I train at sea level, but this race goes from about 7,000 feet up to 9,200 feet, and so altitude is a real factor. Finally, it's a relatively tough course with 8,600' of elevation gain (according to Garmin's maps) and all kinds of exceptionally steep and rocky terrain. So, I was bit nervous about this race!

To help acclimate, our little family went camping in Lake Tahoe's Sugar Pine Point State Park for four days, getting back home 8 days before the race. And I came out again, by myself this time, on Wednesday afternoon before the Saturday morning race. All-in-all, these days spent there seemed to help. The weather and scenery were beautiful. Fortunately, I was able to work at the hotel for two days in a dingy room at the Tahoe City Inn. (It's cheap, but I would not recommend staying there unless you're desperate.)

I got in a last 4.5 mile training run the day before the race. My Inov8 trail running shoes were worn out, but it was too late to replace them. And I wish I had gotten new gaiters (a kind of sleeve that goes over the shoe to keep debris out). But otherwise, I was in good health and injury-free and all systems were go!

A couple weeks before the race my friend Prudence L'Heureux contacted me and asked if I wanted a pacer to run the last 20 miles with me. I didn't even realize that was allowed! (All or most of the important information is on the race website somewhere, but it can be difficult to find.) Yes! Excellent! Prudence was one of the top American ultrarunners for a few years and she had asked me to pace her at Miwok 100K one year. A pacer can't provide any direct assistance, and this race calls them "safety runners", but the main benefit is just to have someone there with you for the morale boost and to help with problem solving and to not get lost and to simply give the runner some companionship. These races can get very difficult and very lonely, too. And if a serious problem happens, then it's great to have someone with you because we will be miles and hours away from medical services.

On Saturday, July 21, I got up at 3:30am, ate my breakfast (Grape Nuts cereal, banana, and Diet Coke) and got to the starting area shortly before the 5am start of the 100 mile race.

 I got to see my friends Bryan Bodas...

 and Mike Weston.

(Both members of my running club.)

And I got myself ready and dawn had arrived... which was good because my new $10 flashlight had toppled out of my jacket pocket and into the porta-potty. Doh. (I did not fetch it!)

I had been warned by a friend to be careful about being trapped behind lots of slower hikers and runners because it can be hard to pass people on the single track trail, so I had positioned myself in about the top 20% of the pack at the start line.

6am came around and we were off! The 50 mile and 50K races started together at Spooner Lake and headed towards the Hobart aid station about 6 miles away. I took it easy and monitored my heart rate and started off in the low 140 beats per minute. When we soon got to the uphills and I started feeling the effort, I walked, along with everyone else around me. The weather was perfect, nice and cool, and the scenery was beautiful.

The trails were superbly well-marked. In addition to many multi-colored ribbons, there were arrow-shaped signs and chalk at intersections. I've been on some well-marked race courses, like Western States and Dick Collins Firetrails 50, and the markings on this course were even better. Getting lost is a very real and demoralizing hazard, so I always appreciate a well-marked race!

We runners started spreading out and I got to chat with a few people. I met a young guy, Zach Mapes, who was running the 50K, his first 50K, without a water bottle, which I thought was brave, given the ~6 mile distances between aid stations for his race. It turns out he had forgotten it! Fortunately, I saw in the results that he did manage to finish. At some point in the first 10 miles, I thought I could push the pace a bit more and I passed Zach.

At about this same time, I also ran with a woman for a while who was also doing the 50K. Turns out she is a real speedster with a 3 hour 15 minute personal best for the marathon. This was her first 50K. She asked me my name and I asked her hers (hi, Annie Rutledge!) and after I stopped and peed, I didn't catch up to her again until about mile 17. She finished the 50K in 8th place, out of about 160!

I was steadily passing the slowest 100 milers now (they had had an hour's head start on me) along with plenty of 50K and 50 mile runners.

At the second aid station, Tunnel Creek, we get directed down a super-steep hill, to do the Red House loop. The loop is only about 6 miles long, but it was quite tough at times. The website said that the Red House aid station would not be open this year, but it was. I cruised through, thanked the volunteers, but didn't stop. Somewhere around here, at about mile 15, I noticed that my feet felt a bit sore. Oh oh! I've still got a long ways to go! But the feeling passed.

I saw some of the 100 mile front runners finishing the loop, including an acquaintance, Bree Lambert (who is good friends with my pacer Prudence). I caught up to my friends Bryan Bodas and Mike Weston, said "hi" and passed them.

After arriving at Tunnel Creek again, I headed north towards Bull Wheel. I checked my time and I was about 13 minutes behind my goal pace (which was just a guess and that I applied evenly to the whole course regardless of the elevation gain or loss). Considering the climbs I had done, I felt good about my performance and how I felt.

After more climbing and more beautiful forests, I arrived at Bull Wheel. 20+ miles down. Feeling pretty good. I chatted with another runner or two from here. We remarked that we both felt like we had had a good workout but still had plenty of gas left in the tank. This leg from Bull Wheel to Diamond Peak Lodge is remarkable because it's about 8.1 miles. (Based on the website's elevation profile, I thought it was 9.5, but the aid station volunteer said it was 8 miles and my Garmin data says 8.1.) This leg was the sole reason why I wanted to carry a 64oz hydration pack and I'm glad I did. I ran out of water after about 7 miles. Somewhere along here I took my first ibuprofen, too, as a precaution to reduce swelling in my ankles and feet and knees.

On a long 5 mile downhill, I started pushing the pace a bit. I was feeling pretty good and occasionally I thought I heard a runner catching up to me and I didn't want to be passed. But then I felt my first borderline cramp, in one of my calves. Oh oh! I took more salt and I drank more. Water tasted really good, so I was probably getting dehydrated. And then I ran out of water with about a mile to go.

I got into Diamond Peak Lodge and there were lots of volunteers and a dozen or so spectators. Yay! And my friend Prudence! Yay! It was funny, but I had made up all the time "lost" on the climbs earlier and was within a minute of my goal time (a 9 hour finishing time). I quickly refilled my hydration pack, got some food, and headed out. We didn't run far before we got to the ski slope. Wow. It was hard to believe, looking up the mountain, that we were expected to "run" up that. There was no running to be done, of course. It quickly became a challenge to just walk up underneath a ski lift. One of the course markers had a sense of humor and had written "WTF" and an arrow pointing up the slope. Funny! And true! This climb of just 2 miles, but in mostly soft dirt and loose rock, and with nearly 1700' of elevation gain, took me 45 minutes. Ouch! So much for my goal time now!

Finally we got to Bull Wheel. Then the course retraces its steps back to Tunnel Creek and then to Hobart. About 1.5 miles from Hobart I ran out of water again, even though I had carried about 52 oz. That was bad. I also hadn't peed since about mile 20. That's bad. I started feeling fatigued and having borderline cramps. The race was getting tougher. It seemed to take more and more mental energy just to keep moving. The terrain is quite rocky and you really have to pay attention when running over it. I kicked a couple of rocks but I caught myself and didn't fall. But these stumbles wracked my body and I had to walk for a few seconds to recover, because I was having borderline cramps.

We passed some of the slowest 50K runners. That's a long day for them! I took my second ibuprofen somewhere along here.

Shortly after Hobart, the route changed and we are off onto new territory. The climb to Snow Valley aid station got difficult because it was often steep and at altitude, topping off at about 9200'. A safety patrol on a mountain bike passed us, but then we passed her on the steeper parts. (There were many safety patrol bicyclists with first aid and radios.) I think these were the most gorgeous views, with green meadows and blue skies. Just amazing. This aid station was staffed by a Boy Scout troop. Thanks guys! There were lots of choices of drinks and I grabbed a pitcher labeled Gatorade without really thinking about it. Gatorade sports drink is actually not all that great for endurance events like this because it has a lot of sugar but not the best kind (the long-chain maltodextrin is better, if I recall correctly). So, it didn't take too long before my stomach started getting a bit upset.

Finally, we were on the downhill, all the way to the finish! I basically barely held on and tried not to fall apart. I wasn't a very good conversationalist with Prudence, but I really appreciated her being there. (Thanks again, P!) At some point a guy in the 50 mile race zoomed past me. Bummer! I kept at it.

We passed a woman walking who then called out to us. Bree! She had been so far ahead of us. What happened? She had blood in her urine. I think that means that her kidneys are clogged up with the proteins and waste products from muscle breakdown. Or she could be severely dehydrated. I needed a short walking break (my heart rate had climbed up to the low 150s again) but then Prudence motioned me to keep on running and we all agreed that she should stay with Bree. We were only about 2 miles from the finish.

I had run out of water again, shortly before reaching the Spooner Lake aid station. I confirmed that I had just about 1.6 miles to go. Yay! I saw a glimpse of the guy who had zoomed past me earlier! I quickly drank a cup of water and a cup of sports drink and I tried to hold it together and give one last big push. Prudence had almost caught up to me.

I was cruising along pretty well and quickly put some distance in front of Prudence as I was chasing down these last miles. I was feeling desperate but I thought if I could just hang on for another 10 or 15 minutes, then I would be done. I zoomed past the guy who had passed me earlier. I passed other 50K runners and 100 mile runners. I was moving well on the flats and gentle downhills, but I just didn't have the energy to sprint up the short uphills.

I heard a familiar voice far up ahead calling my name. Franz?! Sweet! I knew he was likely to be at the finish but we were still about a half mile away. He asked how I was doing. "Seconds away from fainting," I said, which I'm embarrassed to say was an exaggeration. I was feeling quite desperate and was feeling twinges of cramps, but I don't think I was going to faint. Franz took this picture. Prudence is chasing me down a ways behind me.

Last half mile dash, with Prudence chasing me. (Photo credit: Franz Dill.)

I've got my finisher's plaque. (Photo credit: Franz)

Franz Dill

Prudence and me, recovering.

Whew! 9 hours 43 minutes. I learned that I came in 12th place out of 177 starters. That sounds good! I basically had a great race, even though it got difficult. I enjoyed the challenge and the scenery and the race as a whole very much. I enjoyed the camaraderie and meeting old friends and making new ones.

I had to drive for 5 hours after the race, to get home, which sucked since I was tired and sore. I finally peed again, with a vengeance! But that's bad that I went from around mile 20 until more than 2 hours after the race before needing to urinate again. I'm not quite sure what happened there with my hydration. I'm guessing I fell a bit behind. Also, my fingers started to feel swollen at one point, which prompted me to take more salt.

What went right:

• I didn't fall or get injured.
• I didn't get lost.
• I'll probably lose one toenail, but otherwise, I didn't have any chafing.
• My pace and effort were probably pretty good. I got right up to the edge but didn't fall off.
• Wearing a 64oz Ultimate Direction hydration pack was a big win, versus two hand held 20oz bottles.
• I had practiced filling my hydration pack in the hotel room beforehand and I learned that I could seal the bag with two folds rather than the more time-consuming way of rolling it up.
• My calorie intake was probably good. I was able to keep all the food down.
• The heart rate monitor was very useful, so that I could stay in the mid-140s for the most part.

Things to improve upon:

• I don't quite understand why I stopped urinating. I don't think I was very dehydrated given the volume of pee I eventually produced hours after the race!
• Wearing gaiters over my shoes would have been nice. I got some sand in them, but I never had to take them off.
• I should have worn somewhat newer shoes.
• I probably should have taken more Salt Stick capsules a little earlier, especially since I was drinking only water until about mile 33. I took about 1 per hour for maybe the first four hours.
• I should have filled up to 64oz between Tunnel Creek (~mile 34) and Hobart (~mile 40).
• Train more on uphills?

Other data:

• Weighed around 166.6 lbs before heading to Lake Tahoe.
• Weighed 162.4 lbs the day after.
• The results are here or here.
• Garmin data.
• Photos from the race organizers can be found here.

As usual, I owe a huge thanks to Jennifer for letting me take the time to do this.