TRT 100 Race Report – July 21-22, 2012

Race Day - Saturday, July 21, 2012 

The morning of the race began with a very early wake-up call at 2:30 in the morning. I had set the alarm the night before, but as usual woke up before it went off. Maybe a little too excited I guess. I got ready by double-checking what I would bring to the start, except for my drop bags, which I had dropped off the previous day at packet pickup in Carson City. I wanted to leave by 3:00am in order to have plenty of time to get to the start of the race. My mom was gracious enough to give me a ride to the start and we arrived a little after 4:00 in the morning at Spooner Lake State Park. I soon met up with some other runners that I knew who were also running, either in my race or the other 2 events that were to take place, a 50-mile and 50 kilometer, both starting at 6:00am. 

Thinking that it would be cooler than it really was, I had brought along a large, plastic trash bag to keep me warm just in case. Before the start, I had tucked away a 25 hour pace chart into one of the pockets of my water bottles just to see if I could maintain this pace or at least have a worthy goal to shoot for, which at the time, I thought was rather attainable. Then it was time. It was time to begin the journey that I've been training for during the last 6 months. As the 5:00 am start time crept ever so closer and the starting group of about 150 runners began to assemble, I thought to myself, this is going to be a very long day, but unbeknownst to me, I didn't realize just how long. Finally, one of the race directors told us, that a tree, of all things, was the “official start line” and began the countdown to the start of the race.

I started out fairly steady as the course took the runners up the North Canyon Road, onto the Marlette Lake trail, to the east side of the lake, up a rather short, but steep climb back onto the Tahoe Rim Trail and over to the first aid station at mile 6. I arrived at the Tunnel Creek aid station at around mile 11, which I would run through 6 times throughout the day, in a time of 2 hours and 25 minutes. The Tunnel Creek aid station was also the first aid station where tracking times were being recorded. Then it was off for the inevitable Red House Loop, a 6.3 mile “Taste of Hell”, as the TRT Endurance Run had called it on its website. During previous training runs on this loop, I remember this part of the course as just a muddy little mess, with willows overgrowing the trail at times, needing to hop over springs and other creek crossings, along with the challenge of a short, rocky and rather steep little uphill. So, as I was approached the Red House aid station around mile 14.3, I started to see what looked like several hand made signs along the side of the trail, which I began to realize were indications that the upcoming aid station was literally a circus with one of the volunteers dressed up as a clown assisting the runners as they came through. I knew from reading about last years run, that this event had featured several themed aid stations in the past, so I wasn’t exactly sure what to except this year, but running through the Red House this early in the race made this section just that much more bearable to get through.

As I made my way back up the hill back towards Tunnel Creek, I was still maintaining my goal pace, entering the aid station in 3 hours and 50 minutes. 

I didn't stay long before the course turned onto the actual Tahoe Rim trail itself and north towards the Mt Rose Meadows trail head. After veering onto the Incline Creek trail, where I knew I could make up some time, I still kept up a relatively steady pace as it was only around 4 miles of a gradual, but at times, steep downhill into the next aid station at Diamond Peak. I also learned at this point in the race that sometimes running downhill is just as tough as running uphill, especially after 25 miles.

  

Overall, I felt great for the first 30 miles of the course, as I rolled into the aid station at Diamond Peak in around 6 hours and 27 minutes, only about a ½ hour slower than what my pace chart had indicated. It was here that I was also looked forward to meeting up with a co-worker of mine, Scott Cozad and a former classmate and member of my high school cross-country team, Jeff Lifur, who had traveled all the way from San Francisco, and his dad, who I invited there to watch and cheer me on.

The Diamond Peak aid station was also the first weigh-in on the course, so I stopped to weigh-in and surprisingly I was only down about 5 pounds, but apparently down enough to have the weigh-in volunteer ask me how I felt and to keep hydrating. 

After about 10 to 12 minutes of fueling up with G2 energy drinks, Shot-Blok energy gels and other aid station fare, I was on my way up the 2 mile section of the course that I kept dreading about, not so much at this point in the run, but how it would feel climbing this monster at around 1:00 or 2:00 in the morning the second time around. I knew the hill would be slow, so I just took it easy and walked the entire way.

Soon after I started up the hill, I just happened to run into a friend of mine who had run this course last year, Brandon Dey, who was running downhill. He immediately recognized me and turned around to begin walking  with me and keep me company. We ended up walking together until about half way up to the beginning of a chairlift, where he left me to continue on my way. It was sure great to see somebody like Brandon on this section of the course, though it wasn't until later that I heard the rumor that he ended up running this hill several times throughout the day assisting other runners or maybe it was just for a great workout. After I reached the top in around 53 minutes, I knew I could pick up the pace as the course turned back onto the trail and more level terrain.

I felt pretty good as I made my way through the next 2 aid stations, Tunnel Creek at mile 35.5 and Hobart  at around mile 40, and then it was on to a much more exposed area of the course around Snow Valley Peak, the highest point on the course. I had hiked this section before, so I was pretty familiar with this section of trail, but with such long stretches of no shade and the warmest part of the day still yet to come, I knew that the last 7-8 miles before the 50-mile checkpoint would eventually slow me down even more. After I realized that I would be about hour and a half slower than my predicted pace, I was just hoping that somebody that I knew would be at the 50-mile checkpoint to keep me motivated and energized. In fact, they were, my friend Jeff and his dad, who were at Diamond Peak the first time around at around mile 30 to cheer me on, had waited around for more than an hour to greet me for the second time that day. After a much need break at the half way point, I took off to begin the second half of the course while Jeff and his dad took off back to Reno. It’s always good to know that there are people out there like Jeff and his dad who would wait around that long for somebody like me.

My time through 50 miles was 12 hours and 42 minutes, not what I had hoped for, but nonetheless, respectable. My goal at this point in the run had dramatically shifted from becoming a 25-26 hour finish time to hopefully under a 30 hour finish time, which had inevitably brought on another monkey in the wrench to my plans this day, and that was, the constant changing of time and the inevitable onset of sundown. I had every intention on getting to the halfway point in less than 12 hours, which I thought would leave me plenty of time to get to Tunnel Creek at mile 61 and my next drop bag. However now, I realized I probably wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer when I prepared my drop bags the previous night; I had inadvertently put both my flashlight and headlamp in the same bag at the Tunnel Creek.

After leaving the 50 mile checkpoint, I estimated that I would need around 3 hours to get to the Tunnel Creek aid station, but at the pace I was maintaining, along with another short, but steep, climb uphill to Hobart and beyond still yet to come, I knew that it would take something short of a miracle to make it to Tunnel Creek before dark. I ran nervously through the intermittent shadows of the trees as I made my way to the 56-mile mark at the Hobart aid station. I made my way through the aid station as the sun suddenly dropped below Marlette Peak and the west shore of Lake Tahoe. From here on and for the next 6 miles, I knew I would be running in the dusk and eventually darkness of the Sierras. As I passed the turnoff to Christopher’s Loop and Sand Harbor overlook, I started to see other headlights begin to appear from behind me. I thought to myself, if I could only stay ahead of them for a while, I just might be all right, but it was getting dark just too fast. Fortunately for me, about ½ down the switchbacks before the Twin Lakes area at around mile 60, a female runner started to pass me and as luck would have it, just happen to have an extra headlamp for me to borrow, after I had told her that mine was in my drop bag just a few miles ahead. I also knew that my pacer for the last 20 miles of the race, Mike Holmes, would be waiting for me as well, as he had volunteered throughout most of the day and was anxiously awaiting my arrival.

I finally arrived at the Tunnel Creek aid station at about 10:30pm, obviously slower now than what I wanted to be, due to my time into the 50-mile checkpoint and the last few miles running in the dark. After I met up with the pace Mike, re-fueled and prepared for the long night ahead, I started down the inevitable Red House Loop for the second time, not knowing that this time, I would face the toughest mental challenge of my life. As I descended into the abyss of darkness, I had noticed that several runners coming back up the hill were not by themselves, which looking back now probably would have been a pretty good idea at that point in the race. I remember telling my safety runner Mike, back at Tunnel Creek that I thought I would have no problems just running when I could and walking throughout the night, until I would meet up with him again 19 miles later over at Diamond Peak. However, I just didn’t realize what I would be facing over the next few miles.

As I was approached the Red House aid station a little more than half way through the loop, everything just seemed to literally break down. I just couldn’t run for more than 2 minutes at a time. Physically speaking, I felt okay, with no muscle pain or feet related problems to speak of, but mentally I was just exhausted and it was wearing me out.

As a side note though, the Red House aid station, as described earlier was probably the most fun aid station to pass through, not only to see a volunteer dressed up as a clown the first time around, but the same volunteer still dressed up as a clown, the second time around as well. However, this time, given my extremely tired physical condition, I thought I had walked into a bad nightmare, running into a clown in the middle of the night. As I arrived at the aid station, I immediately found a chair where I promptly sat. So there I was, in a chair in the middle of the night at mile 64.4. It was here where I contemplated to myself whether or not I should really go on. I seriously considered of dropping out of the race, but only if I could make it back to Tunnel Creek. I knew this wasn’t the ideal place to drop out, so somehow, someway I had to find the courage to keep going. After a few minutes, I finally made my way out of the Red House aid station. As I continued along the trail, I started to really check the time more than ever before, almost to the point of paranoia. Several thoughts had run through my head like, “What’s my overall pace? How many steps did I take the last time I ran? Am I going to make the cut-off times? Was that really a clown I just saw in the middle of the night?”

After I ascended the hill at the end of the Red House Loop, I finally made it into the Tunnel Creek aid station at around 1:30 in the morning. I immediately went into the medical tent desperately trying to find a place to sit down, or rather a place to lie down, but after seeing that all the army cots were taken by other runners, I decided to just plant myself on a hard plastic chair just outside the tent. A friend and rather local legend in Reno’s ultra-running community, John Trent, who I’ve known for more than 18 years, came over to me to see if he could help, but all I could tell him was I just didn’t know if I could go on, given that fact that I still had more than 33 miles to go and was just physically and mentally exhausted. However, I knew from reading the pre-race instructions that if you were to drop at a remote aid station such as Tunnel Creek that it would probably be hours before you got back to either Diamond Peak or Spooner Summit. I really didn’t want to do that, but I just didn’t know how I could make another 13 miles in the next 6 hours before the Diamond Peak cut-off. After a few minutes of resting outside the tent, I went inside to see if sitting on one of the army cots would make any difference. As I observed the aid station volunteers coming in and out of the medical tent tending to other runners, my immediate thought was, maybe I’m not the worst off after all, maybe there is someway that I can get through this, because deep down I knew after all of my training that I could find the strength to keep going, but the question was how? Mentally speaking, I had hit rock bottom. I thought I was done, until…. another local runner, that I knew, Jenny Capel walked through those canvas doors. Not only did she help me find the strength to carry on, but even offered to run with me for the first couple of miles. This mental boost was exactly what I needed. After I hydrated and re-fueled with probably some of the best quesadillas that an aid station could ever have, we were off and running. Thanks to her, I was able to find my pace again, and so for the next couple of miles, we talked a lot about my race up until that point, how I felt through 69 miles and how I was going to get through the next 11. We made it up to a ridge, which overlooked Washoe Valley to the east, and it was here she decided to turnaround and leave me and head back to Tunnel Creek. She wished me good luck and I was quickly on my way. However, I knew that I still had a long way to go. I arrived at the Bull Wheel aid station, about 3 miles later, at around 2:30 in the morning and noticed the 3 or 4 volunteers, who were probably the same ones there during the daytime, were all asleep inside the pop-up shelter. After I briefly stopped to re-fuel, I continued on my way and before I knew it I was running solo under the starlit sky and never saw a single runner again until I got to Diamond Peak a few hours later. So, for the next 9 miles, which took me around a little more than 3 hours to get through, I managed to average less than 18-minute miles. 

I eventually reached the bottom of the Incline Creek Trail, just as the sun was coming up, and turned onto the paved road leading to the Diamond Peak lodge. Fortunately for me, I had made the cut-off by more than 2 hours, which I didn’t think was possible just 6 short hours ago. I finally met up with my safety runner, Mike, who was already set to run at night, had I arrived much earlier in the morning.

I weighed in again and found a seat inside the lodge. I changed socks, downed some water and prepared myself to tackle the Diamond Peak ski hill once again. After a short time, Mike and I were checked out of the aid station and just like I had done before, I ended up walking the entire way up to the top of the hill, but this time around, only a few minutes slower than I had ran the first time. 

Even though this section is probably the toughest on the course, it possesses some of the most spectacular views of the Lake Tahoe basin. As we ascended, Mike promptly took pictures like a crazed paparazzi, and with good reason, too. 

Once we were over the top and back into the Bull Wheel aid station, I felt my goal of finishing getting even closer. Now I was down to around 18 miles left to go. I said to Mike, as we were climbing the hill, “Just get me to the finish” and he did just that. Before long, we were back at the Tunnel Creek aid station at mile 85.5, where I experienced the most emotional moments for me during the entire race. 

As I approached the aid station, I saw Jill (Trent), John’s wife, yelling out from behind a giant boulder, “Is that you, Robert?” and before I knew it, I was greeted with applause from several of the volunteers still there hours later waiting for my return. Now with only 15 miles to go, I had the hardest part behind me, but I still knew I had more than 6 hours left to go. 

My pacer Mike and I continued our way up the switchbacks just beyond the Twin Lakes area and then past the Christopher’s Loop turnoff and into a wide open area of the course where the runners are treated with the most incredible views of both Marlette Lake and Lake Tahoe. Just as we broke out of the trees, we spotted our first sighting of wildlife; a deer had appeared just behind a pine tree among the sagebrush. Again, Mike went to work with his camera. It was not long after that, we passed the turn to the Marlette Campground and made our way around the west side of Marlette Peak and into the Hobart aid station at mile 90. I was down to just 10 more miles left to go. Again, we didn’t stay long and we both continued on our way to the finish. Although with a little more than 3 miles until the next aid station at Snow Valley Peak and mile 93.3, we decided to pretty much walk this section of the course. Even at this moment, I was still more vigilant than ever of the 35-hour cut-off time, even though I was more than an hour ahead of schedule. After we came into Snow Valley Peak aid station around 11:30 in the morning, I knew now that we would be facing another ultra-running hazard and that was running in the heat, especially on this part of the course. We eventually reached the trees and came upon a trail junction and a wooden sign indicating that the Spooner Summit trailhead was now just 4 miles away. After we passed a few hikers and survived the brutal afternoon heat on the trail, we finally arrived at the Spooner Summit aid station and mile 98.9. Advertised as just a water stop, Spooner Summit consisted of only a couple of 5-gallon Gatorade jugs and a couple of tables. So, as Mike started to take more time than what I really wanted to take, I made my way on down the trail to begin the final descent to the finish. As I looked back, I could see that Mike was quickly catching up to me and when he did we both began to hear the distant cheers at the finish for runners who were already making their way to the end. We soon made our way around the shores of Spooner Lake and onto the last boardwalk before the final dash to the finish. It was at this moment, I had thought to myself after all that’s said and done, who would, if anybody would be waiting for me to see me finish. I had told my brother, at least, to come with a change of clothes, but that was when I thought I would finish around 6:00-7:00 in the morning, so I just wasn’t sure who would be there to see me finish at this time in the afternoon. I had told so many friends and relatives about this pretty significant event in my life, but all I could do was just wait and see. Soon after Mike and I crossed the boardwalk, we continued up the trail and veered to the right onto a straighter part of the course and towards the last short section of trail before the finish. I knew I wanted to finish with style, so I started to jog once we hit the turn. I passed a small grandstand that was set up a few feet from the end and crossed into the tent with a finishing time of 33:14:44. I had finally finished my 1^st 100-mile endurance run!

I did see my brother, who tracked me throughout the day and did remember my bag of clothes, but unfortunately no one else. I felt rather disappointed. I immediately sat down on a chair inside the tent along side with a few other runners who had just finished when all of a sudden, out of nowhere, I was enthusiastically greeted by Jenny Capel, who just happened to be at the finish when I came through and literally brought me back to life back at Tunnel Creek. I would say that seeing her again, especially at the finish, after all that I had went through, was probably the second most emotional moment of my journey, behind only mile 85. 

After a few minutes inside the finishing tent, I started to make my way up the road to the burrito bar and drop bag area. I took advantage of the makeshift shower and changed clothes, then said goodbye to my pacer Mike who was on his way back to Diamond Peak to retrieve his vehicle. The awards ceremony was scheduled for 4:00pm, so I figured my brother and I might as well just hang around until then. I tried to eat a chicken filled tortilla from the burrito bar, but my digestive system just wasn’t into it. It was just about 3:45pm in the afternoon, when I asked one of the race directors if the runners could get their buckles early, and he said they could. So, I told him my race number, and noticed what turned out to be a small printing press near the finish area where they were etching the times and the event year into this years finisher’s buckles. I always wondered how they did that and boy, was it one of the coolest finisher’s medals I had ever seen. Even though my time wasn’t exactly what I was hoping for this day, I can now say I am forever a 100-mile finisher.