Tahoe Rim Trail Endurance Runs - 2019

Tahoe Rim Trail Endurance Runs - 100 Mile

“Success is stumbling from failure to failure

with no loss of enthusiasm” -Winston Churchill 

It’s no secret that my attempts at 100-mile endurance runs have ended poorly, with one exception. But, if you know me or are regularly around me you know that my LOVE of trail running has never diminished because of those failures.  I take a smidge of pride in knowing I atleast attempted something difficult enough that most people can’t imagine, let alone attempt, furthermore...finish.

So, in 2014, I decided I wanted to run bigger races. But, I wanted to see these races firsthand before throwing my hat in the ring. That led me to Lake Tahoe to pace an endurance runner thru his 100-mile journey. In 2015, we came back and I finished the 50-mile race.  Since that moment, I’ve wanted to come back and tackle the 100-mile race.  I can draw you a map of the course from memory and I watch the course preview video with regularity.

Selection and Training

Midnight on December 31st, 2018, that dream became a reality when my name was chosen in the lottery and my credit card was charged.  I was fresh off another DNF courtesy of Hitchcock and it’s grueling hills and elevation gain......so why not tackle a mountain race of nearly the same elevation gain but 8,000’ higher?

Like I've done numerous times in the past, I planned out my training based off of Hal Koerner's back-to-back weekend long runs.  My plan started in early March....but week #1 was 56 miles, so for a couple months ahead of March, I had to increase my mileage in preparation for a 20-week training plan.

This go-around, though, my children are all older and more involved in sports, clubs, school, etc.  Most weekends, my Saturday long run was cut short by about 10-20% due to family responsibilities.  And, my Sunday runs were either totally ignored or shortened to 10-16 miles.  I wasn't getting the training in, but I was running and cross-training regularly....it would have to be enough!

Slow Down

In the past, I like to go out hard and probably too fast.  I'm okay with that, but it hasn't been successful.  So, this time around, I had two friends (Andy & Mark) who kept prodding me to "go out slow".  I talked to my friend, John (who I paced at Tahoe for a bit in 2014), who finished Tahoe, and he told me to "walk the first 6 miles".  So, I found a feature on my Garmin (Fenix 3) that lets me set an alarm whenever my pace is faster than 13:00 min/mile.  Yeah, I know...that's not that fast....but try running 13min miles for 12 hours sometime and come tell me that's not fast.  So, I got that alarm set and went out to give it a whirl.

On Friday, June 29th, I setup a tent at a local state park(Crowder) and went for a solo night run.  I ran from 8:45pm to 5:45am.  Every time that damn alarm beeped and buzzed at me, I would slow it back down.  It actually forced me to walk quite a bit (and my walking pace is faster than 13min/mile, too).  It was after that night of running that I got it in my head that I was ready.  The summer humidity and heat of Missouri had beaten me down, but something told me I could do this.

Lake Tahoe from Brockway Summit (~8,000')

Tahoe -- Family Vacay

Lake Tahoe might be my most favorite place on the planet (yes, better than Colorado!).  The high fresh mountain air, the crisp, blue water, the amazing trails....it's all just right for me.  So, like we've done in the past, we drove out a week early and stayed in a rental house for the week.  I got up early each morning and made my way to a summit to watch the sun rise and reflect on the task ahead.  Once the kids were up, we hiked each morning as a family and swam every afternoon in the frigid waters of Tahoe.  I wasn't sure carrying a 35-lb child on my shoulders every hike would be good for me come race day, but......whatcha gonna do?

Flat Russell

Race Day -- Finally

Well, after a week of goofing around, race day finally arrived.  My pre-race ritual didn't change....lay out my clothes, find all my gear, eat lots of pasta.  In our race bags was an elevation tattoo.  I've always wanted one during a race, so I gladly applied it:

Pretty cool elevation tattoo!

I know this course like the back of my hand, but it was nice to have a gentle reminder of what lies ahead.

The race starts at 5am at it's lowest point (Spooner Lake, 6800').  The weather forecast was highs of near 80 and lows in the mid-40s.  PERFECT.  If you know me, my luck in signing up for races has put me in some just terrible weather from pouring rain for 20hours to sideways sleet to 6" of snow.  Finally, I was getting a race where the weather wouldn't get in my way.  So, wearing my Hitchcock shirt (intentionally) as a reminder that I've done harder things, we made our way to the start.

45º at the start!

The first four miles of the race is a climb up single-track trails to beautiful Lake Marlette.  I did exactly what John suggested and I fell in line (near the back) and just walked it out.  There was nothing wasted on this section and it felt good to reach the sparkling shores of Lake Marlette and run for a bit.  A quick climb and we were already at Hobart AS (mile 8.5).  A quick look of my watch and it was near the 2-hour mark.  This was perfect....four miles per hour....24 hours.....pretty darn close to a 24-hour finish.

I climbed just a bit out of Hobart up Marlette Peak and then up Harlan Peak.  The views up there are just amazing with both Tahoe and Marlette in focus.  In my head, though, I just wasn't in a "racing mood".  It was the most mundane race I had ever done.  I was really just enjoying the hike and views.  I couldn't care less about how I was doing.

Marlette (foreground) and Tahoe (background)

After a quick jaunt along the ridgeline, you get 2-3 miles of switchbacks and descent down into the busiest aid station, Tunnel Creek (mile 13, 19, 35, 63, 69, & 85).  I wasn't stopping long at aid stations.  Just long enough to refill my handheld water bottle and top off my hydration pack.  I'd grab handfuls of food and just run off.  This was all part of the plan...just keep moving, drinking and eating.

Right out of Tunnel Creek, you plummet about 1,000' down the next 3 miles to Red House.  Red House, Incline Village and Spooner Lake are the only points on the race below 7,000'.  It's a quick, steep decent to Red House, where.........after a quick fill-up and some snacks......you turn around and climb back up that 1,000', sandy climb to Tunnel Creek.  I marched right thru the uphills without any problems.

Back into Tunnel Creek and out again, I made my way to Bull Wheel AS.  It's just a quick water stop before heading off into the back country for about 9 miles of switchbacks and descent down to Incline Village.  I walked into Incline Village AS, at the base of Diamond Peak ski resort in about 7:15 (30 miles).  This was exactly where I wanted to be.  I felt great, I was hydrated, fed and ready to go.

The climb out of the aid station at the base of Diamond Peak is quite possibly one of the worst in trail running.  It climbs about 2,000' over two miles.  It starts out easy enough, but it quickly becomes evident that the sandy road and the elevation are going to tear you apart.  A quick look ahead of you and you can see other runners virtually straight above you just gasping for air every 10 seconds.  I think it's no stretch to say that someone in lesser physical condition, making this climb, at elevation, during the peak heat of the day....would be life threatening.  It's no joke.

 A glimpse of Heaven and a taste of Hell.

I put one foot in front of the other and methodically climbed Diamond Peak.  I wasn't trying to race up it.  I wasn't wanting to elevate my heart rate.  I just kept walking and I managed it in 68 minutes.

This is where I think the race really takes it's toll at Tahoe.  Yeah, Diamond Peak is a bitch....but all those switchbacks you got to descend into Tunnel Creek....all those descents down Harlan Peak and Marlette Peak....you gotta go back up.  AND THEN....when you are finally back up to Hobart AS...you have to climb another 3 miles up to the climax of the race, Snow Valley Peak, at just over 9,200'.  For the next 12 miles after mile 30 AS, I climbed and I wrecked myself in the afternoon sun & heat.

Halfway there!

I managed the last 20 miles in 7 hours....for a 14:15 first 50 miles.  This was nothing special, but it was what I wanted so that I could just get thru this race.  I sat in the Spooner Lake AS (mile 52-ish) and fixed everything.  I ate.  I changed socks.  I changed shoes (in fact, I threw away the pair I used for the first 50).  My 10-year-old daughter was there to watch and she said "Daddy, why are you doing this?"  I told her I was doing this for her and her sisters.  I told her I wanted her to see that anything is possible.  She said "Well, I'm never doing this...this is CRAZY!"

It is here that I grabbed my pacer, Don, and we headed off for loop #2.  I told him we'd walk to Lake Marlette.  I could tell Don was antsy to run, but he willingly walked with me to Marlette.  We jogged some flats and downhills, but I was getting slower and I felt beat up.  We hiked up onto the ridges between Harlan Peak and Marlette Peak.  I started having doubts in my mind and cramps in my hamstrings.  In my head, I said "Let's just get to Tunnel Creek and give that Red House loop a try to see where we are at."  We hiked and jogged our way down the switchbacks and into Tunnel Creek.  I was bummed that loop #1 took me so long, so Don wasn't getting any pretty scenery because nightfall had already come and we were running by headlamp in the forest.

At Tunnel Creek, we refilled our hydration, ate, and headed out to Red House.  Unfortunately, my running time was behind me.  We walked down the downhills because it was really triggering my cramps.  Cramps have devastated me in the past and I was fighting them hard to keep them at bay this time.  We managed to get to Red House and then start the hike back out.  On the way up to Tunnel Creek, I was pretty defeated.  I wasn't sure how I was going to climb Diamond Peak again.

Finally, we made it to Tunnel Creek.  I immediately laid down on a cot in the First Aid tent.  I rolled my hamstrings, I ate soup and tater tots.  But, my head was in pieces and I was done.  There were atleast six others in that tent and they were all dropping and waiting for a ride out of there.  I told the aid station worker that I'd like that ride, too.  It was 69 miles into my day and I just couldn't keep doing this.  I think my body has a pretty great self-defense mechanism that triggers quite easily for self-preservation reasons.  It was doing it at mile-69 and I was listening.  The aid station worker told me they didn't have room and I'd have to wait 2-4 hours for a ride.  I was content with this option.  I put a couple blankets on and quickly fell asleep.

I was only asleep 10-15 minutes before I was awoken by someone shaking me.  Don was asking me to drink more soup and seeing if I was ready to go.  I told him my day was done.  I was apologizing to him for dragging him all the way to Tahoe just for another DNF, but I wasn't cut out for this.  I sat up and texted Angie.  I told her I was done.  She told me to get up and keep going.  I fought back.  I said we'd hike to Bull Wheel...another 3 miles, but if I wasn't feeling it, I'd quit there and hike down Diamond Peak.  That option seemed better than undertaking the 13 mile route back to the Incline Village AS to meet her.

Something changed...

This is where I topped off my water, my hydration pack and ate some more.  And, then....miraculously, I stood up, started walking around and told Don we'd start hiking.  I think he was as shocked as I was.  I knew it wasn't going to be pretty, but we could walk.  So, walk we did until we hit Bull Wheel AS.  I was still ready to quit, but the hike DOWN Diamond Peak seemed worse than the 9 mile route around and to the bottom.  So, I don't think we hesitated very long at Bull Wheel....we just filled some waters and left.

The next nine miles is kinda a blur to me.  I watched Don's heels for hours as we just trudged along in the boulder-strewn, dark forest.  Somewhere in that stretch, the sun came up.  The sun rising had meant I was out there for 24+ hours and it would still take MUCH longer to finish.  I started doing math in my head (not a good idea during an ultra) and decided I couldn't climb Diamond Peak again and still make it back to the finish.  I was content with getting to Incline Village AS (mile 80) and quitting.  We walked most of that 9 miles down into Incline.

I remember farting ... A LOT.  I remember farting most of the way down to Incline Village.  With about 2 miles to go, I realized the next fart would have more than just gas with it and I'd better stop before we have an accident.  I told Don I really needed to get to the aid station and use the bathroom.  I don't think it increased our pace that much, but it gave me something else to focus on, ironically.

We walked into Incline Village AS around 8am.  Angie came out to take my picture and meet us.  She asked "What do you need?"  I told her, "I'm not fucking leaving this Aid Station.  I'm done."  I walked right past her to the bathroom.  After several minutes in the bathroom, I came out and sat down.  I told everyone I was done.  I think Don was resigned to that fact, but I could tell he wasn't beaten up yet.  Maddie was there and you could see the worry on her face that Dad was pretty down.  Angie refilled my water bottles and hydration vest.  My father-in-law, Joe, and Angie, both helped change my socks and remove my calf sleeves.  I was preparing to shut it down and just be done.

Then Angie handed me her cell phone and said "You need to talk to Andy."  Andy, my "brother from another mother", had called.  He was telling me that I've been in this spot before.  That I would be fine tomorrow.  That I wasn't done.  That I had more.  Angie reminded me of the "Navy Rule of 40."

The "Navy Rule of 40" is simple.  When you are done....when your body is beaten down....when you've had enough....you are really only 40% done.  Your body can do 60% MORE!  You just have to get your head out of the way.

I continued to tell Andy that I was done, but while I was doing this, Angie, Joe, Don and Maddie were giving me ibuprofen, putting biofreeze on my legs, feeding me, etc.  They were just getting me ready to head back out.

Diamond Peak

I don't know what it was.  I don't know how to explain it.  But, in my head, I said "Fine.  I'll go start up this goddamn mountain and show them that I'm too broken to do it and I'll come back down and quit."  And, with that, I stood up, laced up, put on my hydration vest and said....I'm outta here.  Don was still getting ready and I told him, "Just catch up when you can."  I headed out of the aid station and up Diamond Peak!

I still can't explain it other than just sheer DETERMINATION.  Early in the climb, I thought "Well, this ain't so bad, but I know it gets worse."  I just kept my head down and my feet moving at what was a pretty good pace.  Every so often, I would look back and see Don climbing behind me.  I just kept climbing and before I knew it...I was at the top.....TEN MINUTES FASTER than the first time I climbed it (58 minutes).

I won't lie.....I shed a tear right there.  That was the hardest thing I had done in my life.  Climbing that damn mountain a 2nd time with 80 miles on my legs.  That was the crux of the race.  The finish line was obtainable.  My mood switched immediately from defeat to euphoria.  Eighteen miles left?  Shiiiiiit...I can do that in my sleep.

There was one last worry, and that was the time cut-off at Tunnel Creek.  We had to be there by 11AM.  My watch said 9AM.  Two hours to walk/jog/run/hike/crawl three miles.  I filled my water bottle and said to the aid station worker at Bull Wheel, "If you see my pacer, let him know I went on ahead and to come catch me."  They asked me if I was dropping my pacer, to which I replied, "I'm trying to."  This was nothing against Don, his pace, or his effort.  This was a sign that I was getting stronger and finishing was my only goal...with or without him.

I took off running....yes...RUNNING.  This was like a second wind, but stronger.  Yeah, if you look at my pace, it probably wasn't anything spectacular....but it wasn't dying on a cot in an aid station, now was it?

Don caught me about a mile later and we rolled into Tunnel Creek in the mid-morning hours and in VERY good spirits.  We both had some breakfast burritos and a semi-celebration....we had made the final time cut-off with time to spare....it was 9:58am.  Some quick math and it was obvious that even walking 20-min miles the rest of the way, we had this in the bag.

I tempered my celebration a bit because I knew the climb up Snow Valley Peak was still looming, but I was ready.  We hiked the switchbacks and made our way back to Hobart.  Somewhere a couple miles before Hobart, Don stopped to fix a problem with his ankle/achilles and I told him I'd keep going.  I told him I would take the lead from there on.  I outran him to the aid station where I got a good rest in.  We had some good food and I remember trying to leave.  Don was still trying to get food.  I was backing out of the aid station and using both hands to lure him towards me.  The aid station workers were getting a kick out of it.  My energy level was thru the roof and I was ready to roll!

We started the climb up Snow Valley Peak somewhere just past noon.  It was hot and sunny.  Don was wearing down a bit (I mean, he had done 40 miles so far), and the elevation of the climb was getting to him.  But, he plugged along without complaint.

We finally hit the Snow Valley Peak aid station ran by the Boy Scouts and we had a nice sit and eat.  I almost broke into tears because all that was left was 7 downhill miles and we had like 3:45 to do it.  We eventually left the aid station and we ran.  We ran downhills.  We ran switchbacks.  We passed people non-stop the last 20 miles of our day.  With about 5 miles to go, we had to pass a group of people and we had just talked about not doing anything stupid to get hurt....just get to the finish.  Well, as we passed that group of people, I jumped a couple boulders and Don said "That was kinda showing off."  Yeah, yeah it was.

Not possible without Don's selfless help.

With two miles to go, I hastened my walking/jogging pace and let Don make his way behind me.  The last two miles, I was almost in tears and all I could think about was Don's sacrifice.  He spent 18 hours with a grown baby, walking thru the darkness only to have to pick up the pace during the heat of the day.  He didn't complain once.  There just aren't many people in this world who will do that kinda thing for you, but there he was.  I wanted to turn around and hug him, but I knew we could do that at the end.  With about 1/4-mile to go, I picked up that jog and ran hard to the end.  Thirty-three hours, forty-three minutes, and twenty-seven seconds after I started, I FINISHED.

 

 FINISHED!!!!

A buckle to remember.

I can hardly explain in words what it's like to go from the cot in the aid station at mile 69, to crossing that finish line.  Thirty-plus miles and 180º of difference.  I'd like to take credit for it, but it wasn't just me.

Don -- He tirelessly made his way thru all 50 miles of the course with me.  He put up with my whining.  He kept us moving.  He didn't look tired when we finished.  I COULD NOT have completed this race without his friendship, guidance and perseverance.

Angie -- She's always there for my craziness.  She's always positive that I can do it.  I need to stop overthinking it and just listen to her.  She's right.  Her willingness to let me keep trying these crazy things is amazing.  I love that woman.

Joe & Remi -- It was nice to see Angie getting some company and it's always nice to see people you know at aid stations.  Especially, late in races.  It gives strength to Angie when she needs to confront me and tell me how stupid I'm being.

Andy -- My man.  I know it was just a phone call, but it was a pep talk I needed.

Maddie --  My daughter, who when I finished said "That was cool.  I wanna do it."  I want nothing more than for my children to see that nothing is impossible and with enough perseverance you can triumph.

Me -- Is that selfish?  You're damn right it is.  So what?  This race changed me.  It might not have been pretty, or fast, but I know I can do this now.  I know more about myself each time I attempt an ultra.  Our final twenty miles were our fastest.  I was a different man and a different racer that last twenty miles.  That's a high like I've never gotten before.  The human body is amazing, if you can just get the mind out of the way.