BartleysRun the 2013 Western States Endurance Run

When I'm about to embark on what most (including myself) would consider to be quite a challenge [100 miles w/18,000ft up & 23,000ft down], I find my survival instincts kick in and I become an advice hoarder and keen observer.  This doesn't mean I use everything I take in, I've tuned my filter over the years to know what is going to work best for me and my style of doing things.  My mom said she would watch me at soccer practice, and while most kids clamored to be the first in line for a new drill, I would get in the back and watch every kid before me and learn from his mistakes before I gave it a try.  Some would say it's a fear of failure; I would call it smart.  As an example, even though the top guys don't wear a hydration pack and I consider myself to usually be a top guy, I used a hydration pack - I may not have needed it, but I've never done it before, so how could I know yet?
The first piece of advice comes coincidentally from myself (practice what you preach)... anytime a runner comes into our store in Bloomington and mentions their upcoming attempt at a new distance (usually half or full marathon) I give them what I think are the 3 checklist items in order to come away from it with the best experience.  First is to finish.  Pretty simple, if you put in the work and preparation, the goal should be to complete the task.  Second is to finish wanting to do it again (in other words, enjoy it!).  This one is KEY.  I neglected to hit this one in my iron triathlon in 2011 and haven't swam or been on a serious ride since (which brought me to ultras... anyone want to buy a really nice tri bike?!).  Last is to finish, wanting to do it again, in a goal time you had in mind.  This third one is not as important, but its the icing on the cake of a great first experience and can lead to added motivation for the next time.  As you can see, these have a specific order, you can't do 3 without 1 and 2, and so on.  This is crucial, if you skip for 3, you might not hit 1 or 2 and end up with 0.

I believe it's easy to get swept away by a goal time and find it a real challenge to keep the lens focused on the right things.  Once again, in the iron triathlon I didn't keep the focus in the right area, ignored my brain telling me I need to take a moment to regroup and paid for it later.  Fortunately for this event, two things kept my focus in the right spot.  First, I had a few minor injuries leading up to the race that still weren't 100%.  And over 100 miles, anything small can become magnified (or so I assumed).  Second, the forecast was calling for the second hottest race day in history with temperatures easily going triple digits.  I consider heat to be my cryptonite, so this was a major focus to keep aware of throughout the day.  So, with that I had convinced myself to let sub-20 or 24 hours go and just manage the day intelligently, watch and learn from others, and enjoy the once in a lifetime experience.  As my wife has often said, "you can't have the first one back, so make it memorable."

A look down to Squaw Valley about a mile into the climb.

So here goes... first thing first, many people ask me, "How can you even think about 100 miles?"... Answer: You can't, it's way too overwhelming.  Small bites: I think in terms of terrain/trail changes and/or aid stations (usually 3-5 mile increments).  The first segment would begin in Squaw Valley, site of the 1960 Winter Olympic Games, where the trail ascends from the valley floor (elevation 6,200 feet) to Emigrant Pass (elevation 8,750 feet), a climb of 2,550 vertical feet in the first 3.5 miles.  Being the start of the race, many people get carried away and attempt to run up (as much as they can)... it is a race, after all!  I held in the reins and power-hiked every single step up the climb - keeping my heart rate mostly below 150bpm.  I had hiked this section with my crew a few days earlier and it had take 1h12m, so I knew what to expect.  I crested the peak at 1h10m with a few pictures, videos, and a pee stop included, score!  

(Added bonus: I got to hike next to the founder of trail ultrarunning and first finisher of the Western States Endurance Run, Gordy Ainsleigh - he beat me to the first aid station at age 66!  What a beast!)

After the pass, we finally "ran" through a section that was like running through a rocky meadow with mountain streams running off across and down the trail everywhere.  It was a conga line that would start and stop many times.  I told myself to remain calm, because 4 miles in is no time to get antsy... and just enjoy the amazing view!  After another bathroom stop (1 & 2), I got into the first aid station at 10.5 miles in 2h31m... about 15min behind my "goal time."  I was in one piece, didn't feel like I'd just climbed a mountain, and nutrition was going well, so no complaints.  I had decided to start with a Nathan VaporWrap hydration pack in addition to the Salomon Softflasks I'd be using all day - this added up to about 118oz of liquid (16oz was Hammer Perpetuem).  This should get me about 4 hours to the first crew stop, so I passed right through the aid station and kept, moving, forward.

The next section ran on a ridge with beautiful views on both sides of the high Sierras and the canyons below that we would eventually encounter.  I filled up my soft flasks at Red Star Ridge (mile 16) for another 32oz of water and went on my way to what would end up being the most enjoyable running section of the race.  I finally had a chance to stretch the legs (about 9min/mi pace) and took advantage of it (my second fastest section of the day).  Neither the uphill nor downhill was stupid steep in this section so I went for it.  Unfortunately at around 21 miles I felt a slight twinge on two separate steps on the front side of my ankle.  It didn't feel like a "twist," more like a slight cramp/strain.  The section was fairly technical with rocks to watch out for at every step (but this was a constant on this course).  I decided to calm it down a little from there and I didn't notice it again (for a while).  I was certainly excited going into Duncan Canyon aid station (mile 23.8) because it was the first time I got to see my crew!

The crew was great!  I swapped out my pack for the Salomon belt that could still hold the softflasks, gels, bars, endurolytes, etc. Without the 70oz of water on my back, it was a good opportunity to keep cooler as the sun started to heat things up.  I also added a bandanna with ice rolled into it and tied it around my neck - very productive at keeping you cool! I (believe) thanked them (mom, dad, and Steph) and was on my way.

The next section was mostly forested (as compared to the high mountain exposed ridges of before).  We wound our way down hill until we finally reached the bottom... and we were rewarded with a lovely stream crossing that you could sit completely down in to cool off!  Staying wet is the key to keeping cool and not dehydrated in dry climates.  If you aren't wet, your body will sweat more to produce the cooling effect of water evaporating off your skin, leaving you dehydrated and potentially delirious - not "cool."  After the creek, we climbed out of this canyon (fairly low grade climb) into Robinson's Flat (mile 29.7).  

Crew B was there to greet me with equal enthusiasm and great organization!  Robinson's Flat was the first medical check weigh-in of the day, so I was curious to see the results of my hydration and cooling regimen on my weight.  My initial weigh-in that morning was 148.2 and this one was 147, so a pound down... not bad.  I was almost a third done and only a pound down, I considered that a win and signs that I should just keep to my regimen with no major changes.  After being ice sponged off, ice in the bandanna and hat, and adding arm coolers I was off.

This next segment was nothing special (sorry segment).  It had some dirt roads, rocky trails, climbs, descents, just passing the time and miles... the Miller's Defeat aid station (mile 34.4) was not helpful.  I feel bad even now saying this because just being there to provide for us runners is worth the utmost appreciation.  But, if I'm comparing... and I am, this aid station was the weakest.  I filled my own bottles, sponged myself, filled my hat and bandanna with ice and when some of the ice fell out of my bandanna onto the ground, as they watched me struggle to do this, they picked it up and put the dirty ice into my bandana... "recycling" they called it.  Oh well, Crew A was waiting at the next stop!  There (Dusty Corners, mile 38) they cleaned me up, topped me off, gave me inspiration and sent me on my way.  

Headed to meet the crew at Dusty Corners
The next section to Last Chance (43.8) was my fastest of the day (10m/m average) and I honestly don't really remember it.  I know I had just gotten my mp3 player and was just in a zone.  The trail was winding down, down, down, and I was in a rhythm.  But, just as the last time I had found the groove, I felt another twinge.  This time it was in my knee at the spot I had been working on the past 3 weeks to loosen up (around the MCL attachment area)... warning!  I immediately flashed to Rocky Raccoon in February when the same problem kept getting worse as I plugged along at the same pace eventually to drop out at 62 miles.  Too much had already gone into this event for that to happen, so I took a deep breath, let off the gas and became hyper-aware of the knee.  Fortunately, I only slightly felt it one more time after 90+ miles, so no doubt this was the right decision.

At the Last Chance aid station I did the usual sponging and icing routine, but also decided to add in ice up my short tights on the quads... clutch!  I really feel that this helped with potential quad seizing that could have happened as the next section went STEEPly down into the most well known canyon of the race.  Temps were apparently over 100 by this point, but I honestly felt ok... certainly I would prefer cooler, but with little humidity it was actually not too bad.  The grade of the decline (and consequently incline) however was rough.  Since the quads take all of the pounding on the down, if they were to cramp up, I would be done for the day... so managing this was the highest priority.  This mainly meant walking downhill if it wasn't runnable under control... so walking most of it.  At the bottom was a bridge crossing where upon corssing it I elected to scramble down to the water for a 30sec soak.  It proved helpful as I passed more than the people that passed me while soaking on the way up to Devil's Thumb (47.8 miles).

The climb up Devil's Thumb has 35 switch-backs and climbs about 1650ft in a little under 1.25 miles.  For us relative flatlanders out here in the Midwest, Bloomington is considered pretty hilly.  So, to reference a known Bloomington hill, Boltinghouse rises 190ft in .25miles.  Putting it back to back 5 times would extrapolate out to 1.25 miles but only 950ft of gain, still 700ft short of the Devil's Thumb summit!  And for a trail reference, the first climb going counter-clockwise at Pate Hollow yields a climb of about 193ft in .47miles, so doing that climb back to back 8.5 times would give you the ascent, but in 3.5 miles too far!  Needless to say, it was not easy.  So reaching the summit put me at 47.8 miles on the day and I took the opportunity to regroup before heading into the third of four canyons... the hardest was out of the way, right?!

The bottom of El Dorado Canyon is often considered the halfway point (time-wise) at 52.9 miles and I hit this station at 12h33m, or 25-hour pace.  For how conservative I'd taken it so far, I was surprised to find myself still relatively within reach of the 24-hour mark.  The way down was another unbearable decent and I probably looked like a newborn calf trying to walk for the first time as I tried to balance getting down the switchbacks without putting too much stress on the quads.  I also witnessed a rattlesnake trying to scurry off the trail, yikes!  It was probably 5 feet from me going the other direction, so I never really had that "Oh sh!t" moment, more of a, "That's crazy cool," moment (though I did watch where I was going more carefully the rest of the way down!).  At the bottom was another bridge crossing where I scurried down to the creek for another soaking opportunity, then up and out of another canyon.  I would argue this one was worse... though I hadn't ever heard as much about it.  

The climb to Michigan Bluff was another 1700ft in about 2.5 miles.  So, about the same gain as Devil's Thumb, but twice the distance... should be easier, right?  To me, it was still hands-on-knees climbing and felt the same (even though the grade was half), but it was twice the distance.  With the intense ascents and descents, plus the 105-ish degree heat, it was during this stretch that I first thought about dropping out. I had to remind myself of what Gordy Ainsleigh had said in one of the movies I watched about this race in preparation: "Most people drop out after the canyons when it's the hottest part of the day, but if they could just push on a little longer, the sun sets and you feel like a new person."  Thanks Gordy!

That was certainly a rough spot that I was glad to be done with and headed up to Michigan Bluffs. It was the first time I'd seen a crew in 17 miles (and two canyons).  I believe I said, "OMG SOB," (exact words abbreviations) to describe what I'd just been through to the crew.  My toes had been jamming the end of my shoes on the steep descents making it very uncomfortable, so I decided to take out the insoles here and change socks (removing the compression socks and thin Injinji and adding a little thicker Injinji for cushioning).  After being forced to eat a gel by Maria, I was on my way... about .5 mile later I hear, "Ben! Ben!" and turn around to see Chris Neoh sprinting towards me with my ankle timing chip in his hand that had been taken off and left while changing socks.  Good catch, Chris!  Onward...

I remember getting mixed messages from people all day about how many and where the canyons are... some say 3, some say 4.  Some count Duncan and Volcano (the one I was headed into next), some only count one of the two... I'd count them all if I were you.  So, into the aptly named Volcano Canyon at 7pm - 100+ degrees.  Honestly, this is where I found a second (or third, or fourth) wind and really had a good section.  I think not having my toes jamming the end of the shoes and the descent being not quite as steep helped me feel really confident and I really started to click off some good miles (10m/m-ish).  I actually started calculating 24-hour pace and figured out that I had just under 13m/m to run in the 38 miles to the finish from Foresthill (the next station) to get it.  People (probably the same ones that only count 3 canyons) say the course is very runnable after Foresthill, so I was feeling good about my chances.  The crew met me at Bath Road, about 1.4 miles out from Foresthill and we ran in from there, pushing 8m/m pace - most of it is on roads.  Even Dad joined in the run as I heard later that he was inspired and wanted to go run 10 miles (not sure that that happened, and probably for the best - at least until he builds some consistency).

Foresthill with Eric, Ann, and the whole crew! Steph is about to start her pacing duties...

At Foresthill I had a friend who was volunteering there run me through the aid station!  Eric had to wait a few hours past his shift for me to come in, but it was a really special experience to have that opportunity with him.  I won't forget it.  I weighed in at 148 (.2 lower than starting weight), so I was still doing things right.  I remember telling the crew, "this could have been a 62 mile race and I don't think I'd ran any faster." Steph would be joining me as my pacer from here on, sub-24 hours was in sights, the sun was setting, it was cooling off, the canyons were done, and the crews had joined together for the first time on the day... I was on an emotional high for sure.  I dropped the belt off and went handhelds and pockets the remainder of the way.  I didn't feel that hydration would be such a worry with the sun down and the belt was bouncing a lot because of how wet I was... so off it went.  Steph and I took off from the aid station at a 9m/m pace and I was focused... 38 miles to go.  Soon after, the course began switching backing down and up on "rollers" that I would consider momentum-killers.  The effort it'd take to get over these at sub-13m/m pace was pushing the allowable exertion limit I had in my head just a tad, so I decided to calm down, take a deep breath, and take it all in.

Throughout these sections, nausea would slightly creep in whenever I ate anything, then go away the further from an aid station I got... it wasn't anything unbearable, but a warning sign to me of where the evening could go if I wasn't careful - there was still more than a 50k left in this thing and I still wasn't 100% sure I'd finish.  Just before this point we had noticed that my ankle had gotten pretty swollen, presumably form the twinge 40 miles ago - perhaps taking the compression socks off allowed it to swell more.  At any rate, my foot became very difficult to dorsiflex (bring the toes up) and compensation started to compound in my hamstring near the knee over the next 10 miles to Rucky Chucky.  This tightness later lead to a tender shin on the other foot as the compensation wheel made its rounds on my body.  Also to mention, while taking the inserts out helped the toes, it made the bottom of my feet very tender because of the friction between my sock and the foam board under the insole.  What seemed smartest at this point was to manage everything into the finish and all of this basically put me to a conversational hike into Auburn which included seeing my second sunrise of the run!

The last 38 miles is described best in my wife's pacer post, but in summary it went exactly how I imagined and hoped it would.  She was by my side as we power-hiked through the night in the Sierra mountains - a dream come true.  Sure, I'd had hopes/dreams of running this section with the lead women in the top 35 of the race, but honestly it would have been an insult to this race if that had happened. In other words, I wasn't near prepared for running that fast, nor deserved it... could I be?  I'd like to think so.  I certainly can now begin to understand what it would take to be prepared for it. It's an extremely challenging and humbling course that deserves the respect and admiration it receives.  And it only deepens my respect for those in the sport that can finish this bear 12 hours faster than I did!  So, the important question is how far did I get on my checklist: #1, finished, check. #2, finished wanting to do it again, check. #3, finished wanting to do it again and in my goal time, no check.  Two outta three ain't bad... guess it's time to work on that last check mark. :)

 

Products used and thanks to be given for helping me have this exceptional experience:

- Zoot sahara hat, Rudy Project sunglasses, Columbia cooling bandana, Zoot arm coolers, Salomon tank and exo short (excellent pockets), Injinji (to provent toe blisters) and CEP socks, and the New Balance 1210

- Nathan VaporWrap, Salomon Handheld set, softflasks, and belt, Endurolytes/S!Caps, Hammer Perpetuem, GoFar bars, and Huma Gel (also had GU, potato soup, an orange slice, sausage, and hashbrowns from aid stations at various points) [about 30-40oz of H2O, 250-350 calories, and 2-4 salt caps /hour]

- Mandy Smith (Indiana Spine & Sports) and Morgan Patten (Balance Massage Therapy) for helping me get my knee to the point of a non-issue

- Friends, Family, and BARA for staying up longer than necessary to obsessively refresh and follow my progress, I had to force you out of my thoughts during the race because I would start to choke up thinking of all of your support and love - much appreciation.

- Jeff Yoder and Scott Breeden for being there on key training runs and for advise when I needed it.

- my crew! Mom, Dad, Maria Kaylen, Chris Neoh, and Chris Muir for putting aside their own needs for 27+ hours to help me achieve something I honestly never thought I'd do as short as 2 years ago

- and most importantly, my wife and pacer, Stephanie, who spent her birthday on Friday preparing for my race... needless to say, I owe her BIG time!  If she would not have been there with me the final 38 miles, it would not have been worth it to me... I would have stopped, period.

The whole crew the day before the race in Squaw Valley

It's done! The crew that got me through...

GPS data (until the watch died at 20.5 hours): http://app.strava.com/activities/64568952

Post race: Maybe harder than the race itself is trying to stave off sleep to take care of the things you need to to help recovery - eating, icing, FSM (from Indiana Spine & Sports), compression wear, medication, etc.  But, I can say that after 72 hours of being diligent in recovery, I believe that I could run today if I needed to... luckily I don't ;)

How would I train differently?  First, I wouldn't bruise my ribs and reaggravate my knee which caused me to have less than 30 miles per week of running for the last 8 weeks before the race (aside from two 50 mile races, which helped).  I would also spend as much time in the Smokeys as possible.  The two days I spent there provided me with a calm reassurance multiple times when the course would roll up and down on rocky terrain much like the Smokeys.  Otherwise, just more experience to gain confidence in the distance... like how a 5k feels to a marathoner, a marathon feels like to a 50-miler, and so on.  

What's next?  Well, a year ago I qualified for the Western States lottery and now here I am, qualified for the Ultra-Trail du Mont-Blanc lottery...