Western States 2015 Race Report

WESTERN STATES 2015 RACE REPORT 

  Date - June 27th-28th, 2015

Location - Squaw Valley to Auburn

During the week that led up to Western States, I remembered back to what some others had told me about this race and that was, “To take it all in”. That’s exactly what I planned to do. I realized back then that this would be one of my most memorable running accomplishments. Therefore, as soon as I knew that I would be an official starter, I decided to form a small crew, recruit a pacer, and spread the word to immediate family members and numerous Facebook friends. I even created a Facebook Messenger Group of around 10 or so other family members that informed them of my participation in the run. To say that I was excited to finally be in this race was an understatement.

Here’s my story….

On the morning of Thursday June 25^th, I headed up to Squaw Valley to start the first day of the Race Week Agenda. The first item on the day's agenda was the Western States Welcome, which was to start at 9:30 am. When I arrived, I was surprised to see a smaller than expected crowd, who had gathered not too far from the starting line arch. Soon after the introductions and welcome messages concluded, the next item on the agenda was an optional 4-mile trek up to Emigrant Pass and Watson’s Monument for some Western States inspiration.

Watson's Monument

                                                                                                                                                    I debated on whether or not to take the tram ride to the monument or hike the dirt road. After I heard that the tram ride cost a little more than what I was willing to pay, I decided to go for a hike. The weather warmed up even before I started. After I arrived at the summit, a relatively large crowd gathered near a fence line, where an American Flag was placed.

During the course of the next half hour, I took in a few pictures, heard some inspirational quotes and details about the course, and was part of a large group photo. 

                I proceeded back down the mountain and arrived back at the Village just before 2:00 pm. Since the next scheduled event would not start until 2:30 pm, I decided to head over to the Village to relax. After awhile, I walked over to the Conference Center where the next scheduled event called Crewing A Western States Runner was held. I felt somewhat out of place when I arrived, since there was no one from my crew actually with me. However, I did learn some valuable information that I knew would be useful for my crew. After the presentation concluded, I decided to make my way back to Reno. 

The next morning, I headed back up to Squaw for the runner check-in and pre-race meeting. I arrived around 9:30 in the morning, and then proceeded to the drop bag collection area, where I left several bags for delivery to various aid stations along the course. Next, I headed over to the race registration and check-in area, which took place inside a building next to the Olympic Plaza near the start line arch.

It was a rather interesting check-in process. First, I was asked a few questions about past ultra races and personal running gear then went through a series of check-in stations where I picked up a race-stitched backpack and numerous other amenities before I had my picture taken in a goofy looking hat.

 






I had hoped to see the start of the Montrail 6k uphill challenge, but by the time I finished with check-in, the race had already started. For the next several hours, I strolled around the village, spotted a bear in the area and had a bite to eat at the Fireside Pizza Company. Soon after lunch, I headed over to the Conference Center for the pre-race meeting. It was standing room only. Among other information about the run, the crowd was presented with a welcome message from the CEO of Squaw Valley Andy Wirth, a medical briefing and the presentation of last year’s Top Ten finishers, on both the men’s and women’s sides. After the meeting, I decided to head home. Around 5:45 that evening, I met up for dinner with my pacer Juan and my crew of Michael, Allison, Scott, Roland and Laura. Later that night, the one thought that had run through my mind the most was, who would show up to see me run and most importantly, finish.  

The next morning, I was awake by 2:30. Soon after, Michael, Allison and Juan came to take me to the start. We arrived at the Squaw Valley parking area just after 4:00 am. I prepared my main race bag to give to Roland and Laura, whom I met up with soon after I arrived and checked in. I felt excitement in the air and the tension was high as the minutes ticked down to the 5:00 am start.

               




          Finally, I heard the sound of the shotgun and roughly 370 energized trail runners began their long-awaited journeys up the face of Squaw. For the first 4 miles, I kept a steady pace up the initial ascent of around 2,500 feet. On the way up, I saw 2 great running friends of mine, along the edge of the trail, John and Jill, whose daughter Katie, was entered in this year’s race for the first time. Further up the road, I ran into my pacer, Juan, who cheered me on as I continued up the mountain. By this time, the morning’s sunlight had already made its way to the horizon and filled the sky with an incredible sunrise. I arrived at the top at just a little over an hour, right on the pace that I had initially set for myself. Before I descended the ridge, I took one last look behind me to take in the sunrise that spread itself over Lake Tahoe.

The pace of the other runners around me intensified as the course went to a single track and through the dense forest of the Granite Chief Wilderness. I felt I ran pretty well through the first 10 1/2 miles, when I arrived at the Lyon Ridge aid station slightly faster than I had expected. The first person I recognized was my friend Cheryl. She gave me a hug and I told her that I was doing great.

Then, as soon as I looked over to the food table, I saw another friend of mine, EJ. He was so excited to see me that he stopped what he was doing, came around the table and gave me the biggest bear hug that I’ve ever had. It was fantastic.

I don’t think I stayed for more than a minute before I was back on the course. Over the next 6 miles of mostly single track, I passed one landmark that I distinctly remember and that was Cougar Rock. From this vantage point, you can see back to the vast wilderness to where the race began. I remembered this landmark from just 2 weeks earlier, when I ran with my Silver State Strider ultra group on a reconnaissance mission of the first 30 miles. Throughout this section, the pace of the other runners was still faster than I was comfortable with, but I didn’t want that to intimidate me. I just wanted to run my own race, my own pace.

I arrived at the Red Star aid station and mile 16 just before 9:00 am, slightly under my goal pace. I knew at these early aid stations, which were farther apart than I would’ve liked, I knew I had to conserve as much energy as I could without feeling uncomfortable. I spent only about 5 minutes at the aid station, before I headed back out.

I reached Duncan Canyon around 24 miles just after 10:30 am, still faster than my goal pace. It was here that I really enjoyed the effort made by all the volunteers to really take care of the runner. I noticed this dedication when I started to re-fuel, as one volunteer seemed to monitor my every move and even led me to the most refreshing part of the whole process, buckets full of ice water and sponges, or as a volunteer at a later aid station would call it, the “car wash”. Even before the race began, I knew I had to keep hydrated as much as possible, which I had thought about, the entire time I ran. I didn’t stay long before I headed downhill and towards Duncan Canyon itself. I knew there was a smaller unnamed creek just about a mile away, but I looked forward to the much larger, deeper and colder creek at around mile 26. When I arrived, I literally laid down in the water to cool off. I felt quite refreshed and re-energized after the long awaited submersion. The next 4 uphill miles, however, would slowly take its toll on me and my overall time.

I came into Robinson Flat at just under 30 miles around 12:20 pm, this time, about an hour behind my goal pace. Two of my crew members, Roland and Laura were there to greet me. I quickly re-fueled, re-hydrated and changed socks. The next 13 miles would take me into new running territory, but I knew if I could maintain a steadier pace than before, I could possibly make up some ground, given the fact that the elevation chart for this section showed that it was mostly downhill.

I arrived at Miller’s Defeat and mile 34.4 just after 1:30 pm, a still slower, yet respectable pace than I had hoped. After I fueled up and went through another “car wash”, I continued down the dirt road that headed to the next aid station, Dusty Corners. However, only a few minutes after I had left the aid station, I heard someone call out, “this way, man”. I had run slightly off course. After I turned to correct my bearings, I was finally headed in the right direction. During the next few miles, I felt alone and had no confidence in the course flagging, since they seemed so sporadic. Nevertheless, I did find my way to Dusty Corners, a rather larger than expected aid station at mile 38. There, I ran into someone who I didn’t expect to see, another running friend of mine Luis, who was there to volunteer.
 

We briefly chatted about the course and how I felt. I told him I was pretty good. I just needed to continue to fuel up and hydrate. I also saw a few other friends of mine, Bill and Dorothy, who were waiting on their runners to arrive. Once I had left Dusty Corners, one view that I looked forward to, was that of Pucker Point. Even though I had never been on this section of the course before, I knew I was there when the trail opened up to a deep canyon view and river gorge that appeared to the right of the trail. It was an incredible sight. At this point in the race, I really wanted to get to the Last Chance aid station, the part of the course that I was most familiar with. I had slightly picked up the pace, when I arrived at Last Chance at around 3:45 pm, but it was still slower than I had hoped. I knew the section ahead was flat and headed down a steep descent toward the swinging bridge. However, I started to feel sluggish and quite a bit slower as I approached that section of the course. It was also here, that I felt really alone, more than ever before. It felt as if the race wasn’t really happening, as the runners were spread out even more, but I continued to push on.

Swinging Bridge

When I arrived at the swinging bridge, I decided to take a few minutes to cool down, so I started to climb down to the water’s edge and wade in the water. I felt extreme fatigue set in as I slowly started up the massive climb to the Devil’s Thumb aid station. 

 

Swinging Bridge

It was this climb that eventually set the tone for the entire rest of my run. I had run this section quite a few times before, but it didn’t seem any easier this time around. The plan was to “walk like I meant it” and “run where I could”. In my mind, I felt energized as I passed a few runners going up the hill, but my nutrition level was at an absolute standstill the entire time, because when I arrived at Devil’s Thumb, I felt extreme hunger. I took my time as I ate, while I re-shifted my focus to just finish in less than 30 hours. A few miles later, when I reached the Deadwood Cemetery, around mile 49, my overall time was just about 13 hours. Given my current pace, I wondered if I could even make it to Michigan Bluff before dark. It didn't look good, but I knew I had a headlamp in my drop bag, so I felt reasonably safe. I managed to get through El Dorado Creek and the climb up to Michigan Bluff with no apparent issues.

Michigan Bluff

Also, I had hoped to meet another one of my crew members at the aid station, but when I arrived, there was no one there to greet me. I did however, run into Jill, who had said Katie was close to the cutoff time at Devil’s Thumb, but still doing fine. I managed to find a chair to relax in and change shirts, and then I gave my drop bag to Jill and proceeded to retrieve my headlamp. I then headed off to the Foresthill aid station, where I planned to pick up Juan, meet up with my crew once again, and hopefully see some family. By this time, my overall pace had decreased by about a minute slower than what I had hoped for.

It was quite the struggle for me as I descended into Volcano Canyon in the dark, something that I hadn’t planned on. However, I managed to get through it. I carefully crossed the creek and made my way up the trail, as other pacers made their way down. As I closed in on the metal gate that was located just before Bath Road, I shined my light to an ominous figure who was standing on the right side of the gate. I noticed that this person had the same race number as I did. It was Juan! I couldn't believe it. I was so surprised to see that he had come all the way down the road to greet me. He asked me how I felt and I told him that I never expected to come into Foresthill this late at night. We slowly made our way up Bath Road and finally arrived at Foresthill just before 10:00 pm, about 20 seconds slower than the last pace.
 

It was quite hectic, when I arrived, as I made my way to the food table, not even knowing who was there to greet me, if anybody at all. As I fueled up, I did recognize some of the volunteers that I knew, like Michael and Eric. A few minutes later, Eric came right up to me and immediately asked me how I had felt. It was an incredible surprise. Juan told me that Roland, Laura, Michael and Scott were just outside of the aid station to meet me. After I refueled and hydrated, I made my way beyond the exit and to meet up with the rest of my crew. I also saw some other running friends of mine, Enrique and Karla, who came there for support. I was so appreciative of that.

I had also hoped to see a few family members here, as well, but apparently no one showed up. After a few cups of chicken broth, I quickly changed socks and both Juan and I were on our way to the night time section of the course.

For the next 4 miles, Juan and I discussed upcoming races, like the Tahoe Rim Trail and the Ruby Mountain Relay and the plan for the rest of my run. I knew the next 16 mile section down to the river crossing would be tough, due to the fact that it was so late at night. We arrived at Dardanelles (Cal 1) in pretty good shape, but some issues with chafing slowed me down even more. Nevertheless, I continued to push forward. We arrived at Peachstone (Cal 2) just before 1:00 am, just under a 17:00 minute pace. He told me to quickly get what I needed and be ready to get out, a great asset of a pacer. When we made it to the "6 minute hill" climb, I started to calculate in my head what pace I needed to get over the next 27 miles in order to finish within the 30 hour cutoff. After the climb, the long downhill stretch to Ford’s Bar (Cal 3) felt like it was just what I needed to re-energize my mental state. Soon after I left the aid station, I had noticed there was a sign that indicated that I was about an hour ahead of the 30 hour cutoff time. I was glad that we had made it this far, because I knew the last stretch down to the river crossing was a fairly flat section.

We finally arrived at the river crossing at around 3:30 am, about a 17:17 minute per mile pace. My anxiety was at an all time high. I saw Roland and Laura at the river, but to my unexpected surprise, I also saw Allison (the daughter of Michael, who was on my crew) and another friend, Tony. I felt so disappointed in myself for having run so slow up until this point in the race, but I was also so appreciative of the support that I had so early in the morning. It was a great feeling. Juan and I quickly fueled up and were on our way across the river. The drop bags were on the other side, so I knew I would have another short break before I had to tackle the climb up to Green Gate.

For the next 2 miles, I maintained a solid pace, with both short jogs and steady hiking. Juan and I arrived at the top of the climb around 4:15 am. I felt better about my ability to cover the last 20 miles and with over 6 ½ hours left, but I really hoped to reach Auburn Lake Trails at mile 85 before dawn, but I unfortunately fell just a few miles short. We reached the aid station at ALT around 6:15 am, about a 17:46 minute per mile pace, which really had me more worried than ever before, since it closed in on the overall cutoff pace of 18 minutes per mile. Throughout the entire night, I thought that I was going to run out of time, but Juan just kept me going through the night by the motivating words of “keep it up, Roberto, you’re doing great”. I was mentally hurting inside, but I know those few words were all I needed to hear. The countdown to the finish was about to begin.

As we closed in on Brown’s Bar at mile 90, I could hear the beat of the music, a long-standing tradition of this aid station. After only a few minutes, we were on our way to the highway crossing. We arrived at the Highway 49 aid station at mile 93.5 just before 9:00 am. As I ran through the aid station, I looked off to my right and saw John and Jill once more, anxiously awaiting their daughter Katie to arrive. They enthusiastically cheered me on while I passed, which was a wonderful surprise. I quickly grabbed some hydration then headed up the trail, while Juan stayed back to re-fuel himself. A few moments later, Juan caught up to me and said that he had seen Roland, but in my rush through the aid station however, I hadn’t noticed.

I had less than 7 miles left on the course and more than 2 hours left on the clock, so I knew I could make it, if I just kept moving forward. I also had the thought of who would be there to see me finish and given the unexpected reality that I would finish within that last "magical hour", I thought for sure that somebody from my family would be there. Juan and I arrived at No Hands Bridge and mile 97 just before 10:00 am.

No Hands Bridge

I had a little more than an hour left on the clock and 3 miles to go in the race. I needed to keep moving. My nervousness was intense, for I knew there were still a few more hills to conquer before we would make it to Robie Point and the final stretch of the race.

As we left No Hands Bridge, the course became fairly flat, as it continued along the river for a stretch before it started to ascend the last dirt hill into Robie Point. 

Robie Point

As Juan and I ran through the gate and onto the road, Roland had run down the road to greet me. It was great to see him again and hear the cheers from the few spectators who had lined the road.

Somewhere around Mile 99

Before I knew it, I had made it to the white bridge on top of the last hill, and the last turn that led down the road and onto the track. 

As I approached the stadium, I recognized a well known face in the Western States community, that of Andy Jones-Wilkins, cheering me on. It was great to see someone like that towards the end of the run. When I entered the track, my energy level rose. I knew I had done it. 

As I approached the finish, I heard my friend Jason, yell “way to bring it in” or something to that effect. I crossed the finish line with less than 20 minutes to spare. It wasn’t pretty, but I did it. I had that buckle.

After I had left the finish line area, I headed toward the medical tent to finally relax and cool down. Then I walked around to see who I would recognize and had noticed that Scott and Laura, from my crew, had made it there to see my finish.

I also met up with some other Reno folks and thanked them for being out here. A few minutes later, as I relaxed by the small swimming pool full of ice cold water, another friend of mine, Dalius, came up and congratulated me on my finish. That was another unexpected surprise, which I sure appreciated. About 15 minutes later, Katie had finally entered the track and finished with less than 4 minutes on the clock. She had become the youngest female finisher in the history of the race.

Also, during this whole time, I had looked for some family members to see if they had made it, but unfortunately, that didn’t happen. I really would’ve liked some family to have been there to see my finish, but no one did. Now, nearly a year after that race, it still hurts to think about those three words, no one did. However, I’m not going to let that get me down. I just have to hold my head up high and appreciate the running friends I did see along the course and at the finish area and to also take satisfaction in the fact that I did accomplish what I had set out to do for myself. I wasn’t the fastest horse in the stampede, but I finished. I finished.  

So, for the next hour and a half or so, I decided to just relax on the infield grass and patiently await the awards ceremony to start at around 12:30 pm. The ceremony began by the introduction of the overall winners and presentation of the cougar trophies, and then the buckles were awarded in blocks of finish times. As I waited for my block of time to be announced, I almost fell asleep as I sat in a chair behind the award tables. Then my time was finally here. Each finisher was called up one at a time to receive their buckle. When my name was called, it was one of the most exciting experiences to happen in my ultra career. I walked away knowing that I had accomplished something incredible. Even though I had finished 3 100-mile races previously, this one was the most special, given the history of the race and the excitement that surrounded it. I will be forever grateful for the people I was able to train with and who enjoyed this journey with me.