It was New Year's Eve at about 11:41pm and I get the following email:
"The suspense is over! You are now registered to race in the 2016 Tahoe Rim Trail Endurance Runs. Congratulations!"
A few weeks prior, K and I had thrown our hat in the ring for the 2016 TRT 100 mile race. We did the "training weekend" runs earlier in the year and finished those thinking that they were scenic but REALLY hard. We were going to consider the 50 mile, but we lost our sanity at some point between the training runs and the TRT lottery registration. We were in the 100 mile race now. It starts near Spooner Lake (on the Nevada side of Lake Tahoe) at 6800ft and goes up to 9000ft with over 20000ft elevation gain/descent. Oh boy.
To hedge our bets, we registered for another 100k Western States qualifier (Gorge Waterfall 100k) and finished it just in case we couldn't finish this one. We had no pressure other than wanting to see if we could run a second (possibly harder) 100 mile race.
We trained well: 7 months, 1100 miles, 150k ft elevation gain. We added strength training one day a week compared to our previous year. We had roughly the same running plan as we did for Headlands 100 the prior year, but we did more variety of working out and included some speed and tempo workouts while removing a mid-week running day. This seemed to make running up hills easier and we felt stronger in general.
Our biggest weeks included the Silver State 50 as a practice race followed by the Western States Training Weekend (72 miles over 3 days) the next weekend. It all went pretty smoothly for the first 20 weeks until we both developed some nagging injuries. My achilles tendon developed a small lump (self diagnosed as mid-substance achilles tendonosis). I began doing eccentric heel drops daily and had some massage therapy. I finished the TRT training weekend 5 weeks before but ended the final day at 30 miles instead of 38 due to a small nagging pain. I was planning to pace the final 38 miles at Western States 3 weeks before TRT, but my runner developed an injury and dropped at Foresthill. This was probably a blessing in disguise. We had already gotten through the peak of our training, so it should be ok. We did a few runs in the final two weeks leading up to the race, but nothing more than about 10 miles and no hills.
This plan worked and my achilles made it through TRT unscathed. The rest of me, however, is another story. The problem wasn't at all physical. My muscles were strong; my cardio fitness was top notch (for me); I had done enough hill repeats. In general, I had put in the work. What I didn't consider was that "elevation" is not the same as "elevation gain." You can train for going up and down hills, but there is another entire aspect to it: running AT elevation. I had looked at the range of elevation for TRT and it went from 6800ft to 9000ft. We planned this in our training by selecting Silver State as a training run so we would run up to a similar elevation. The major difference, however, is that about 60% of the TRT course is over 8000ft of elevation. So, you run up a hill and then continue running in thin-aired, exposed conditions. This was something I didn't plan or train for.
The main effect this had was that I had little appetite, was frequently light headed, high heart rate, and got nauseous a few times. Kristin had similar problems and it slowed us both down quite a bit. Now, the race summary...
The first 30 miles was a normal run. We kept it easy and had fun. We finished a little over our predicted time, but 100 miles is a long race and we were all smiles. I had a few blisters forming on my big toes. This was new for me as I usually don't get blisters. I drained, taped, and lubricated them at Diamond Peak lodge. They hurt, but I'd survive. We were glad to see Kristin's parents (Don and Kathy) along with our friends Justin and Leah at this point. Justin and Leah would be pacing us later and Don and Kathy were our awesome crew.
At mile 30, we ascended Diamond Peak (a.k.a. Diamond Puke) for the first time. We had gone up this 1.8 mile 2000 ft climb two times during training runs and it was a beast. In this case, it was mid-day and the sun was bright. We took it slow and went from shadow to shadow. It took about 1.25 hours to get to the top. The major problem was that after reaching the peak, I got really nauseous for the first time. I ate two Gu chomps and could only think of a mother bird feeding her young partially chewed worms. I gagged and almost puked. It took us another 1.5 hours to go the next 3, relatively flat, miles to Tunnel Creek aid station. I knew I had to eat and kept forcing myself. I'd get over it. Sure enough, a Tums and some food and I was getting better.
The next 15 miles (miles 35-50) back to the start/finish area required a climb over Marlette Peak (8600ft) and Snow Valley Peak (9000ft). Most of it was exposed and very windy. We ran the smooth downhill section in the shadow of the trees and hills. It was pretty fun, but we pushed it to get back in a reasonable time. We got back to the start/finish just before dark, about an hour later than we predicted, and I felt pretty bad by then. I don't know how to describe it other than "I don't want to do that 50 mile loop again." Hearing the other 50 mile runners finish was so degrading knowing that we had another 15+ hours of running through the night.
At this point, we changed shoes, I used the bathroom, and we were joined by our first two pacers Justin and Claudia. Justin had paced us at our previous races and vice versa. Claudia, however, was new to ultra-running and we met her through the Pamakids running club. It was good to have some company on the run and they both were incredibly valuable keeping us moving through the night. Leaving for the second loop at about 8:30pm, everyone kept asking me how I was doing and all I could muster was "Eh. I've been better." I forced a smile and made myself leave for the next loop. It would be too easy to drop here and people would call me out on it. I had to at least start the next loop.
The next 7 miles were the most difficult running experience I've ever had. I had demons yelling at me in my head. I could only think of the Diamond Puke nausea that I had experienced earlier in the day and I was running toward it again. I had a visceral reaction every time I thought about this and repeating the same 50 mile loop. I was going to run for another 12 hours and then be either miss a cut-off or be unable to climb Diamond Puke. I forced our group to stop a few times. I would sit on a rock and would then get angry at myself for being so weak. I kept repeating vulgarities and telling people I wasn't going to finish. I'm not sure where this came from. I was an angry runner. It was simultaneously a pity party and trail rage in my head.
It was in this stretch that we ran into our friend Samir and his pacer. We had met him a few months prior and gone on some training runs knowing that we were all training for TRT100. He lives nearby us and we'd occasionally see a flyby on Strava or in person. He had been at least a couple hours ahead of us, but was lagging now. He seemed his cheery self, but I was having my "moments" and just kept moving. I could barely function and didn't want to talk. I played games with myself at this point. I tried to pretend I was a robot or a zombie and that I couldn't suffer and just move forward.
There's an outhouse on the trail to Hobart Aid Station and I relieved myself (#2) for the third or fourth time in the last 8 hours. This was now a pattern. I was having intestinal issues now too. Great.
I don't remember a lot from here. We got back to Tunnel Creek (mile 62) and it was around 1am. I poured my can of Red Bull from my drop bag in a soft flask and started drinking vegetable broth. I had intentionally tried to have little caffeine until late at night. Maybe this is why I was so sluggish. We did the Red House Loop (mile 62-68) and I could only think of bears. This is the area with the most bears in the race and we had heard someone shouting "GO AWAY" as we left the loop earlier in the day. Presumably that was at a bear and not another runner.
By the end of the loop, I was back in pretty good shape. It was 3am and another 13 miles to Diamond Peak. Maybe we could do this. Our original goal was to be up Diamond Peak by daylight but we weren't going to make that. However, we had time to finish. Justin kept crunching the numbers and coming up positive like an awesome pacer.
Dawn was going to be at 5am. We made it about 8 or 9 miles back to DP. The sun appeared and then shortly after we arrived at the base of DP at 7am. It had taken about 4 hours to go about 13 miles. My feet were hamburger at this point. I had some hot spots on my heels, my toes had re-blistered, and my feet were throbbing. However, that was all just physical. Leah replaced Claudia as our second pacer and we set off to tackle the hardest climb for the second time.
We came. We saw. We kicked its ass. Diamond Peak was no match. I had to use the magic of music. Steve Miller Band followed with some Daft Punk if I remember. An odd mix for an odd sport. I pushed hard up the hill and made it to the top of DP in an hour. This was much easier and faster than mile 30. It wasn't as hot, but I had run 50 more miles. Go figure. Oh yeah! Crushed it.
At this point, we had about 2 hours to get to Tunnel Creek (mile 85) by an 11am cut-off. We easily made it by 10am. We did some necessary aid station stuff and we set out to finish this race. The aid-station people said we'd make it but we should move with "purpose." We did this and the final 15 miles was pretty painful. We tried running now and then but the fatigue was unbelievable. Kristin was having high heart rate on simple climbs. My feet were throbbing. It was getting hot out.
Leah pointed out a bald eagle circling at our same elevation while on Marlette Peak. It was awe inspiring. This is why I run.
The rest is pretty anti-climactic. We kept pushing. Fast walking. Recomputing the cut-off times just to reassure ourselves. Fast walking. Some trotting. We would surely run when we hit the nice shady trail for the last 4-5 miles. However, it isn't shaded during the mid-day. The last time we ran it was dusk and it was hot and sunny now. Where was the damn finish line? Was it 3 more miles or 5 more? We had been warned by Chet (who was finishing his 10th TRT) and others that the race was about 103 miles. I'm glad that I was aware. We just keep pushing.
Kristin nearly cried during the final mile when the trail started to go AWAY from the finish line to cross a small bridge. I remembered this from the night before and assured her we were turning back soon. We ran along Spooner Lake in the shady trees and a few walkers were cheering us on. We could hear the finish line party getting louder and the inflatable arches getting closer. The route ended up being about 103 miles which coincides with other people's previous estimates. What's an additional 5k when you're running 100 miles? We were done and it was time for a nice Tahoe brew.
Special thanks to all that helped us along the way. Don, Kathy, Justin, Leah, Claudia, and all the other runners (Samir, Chuck, Chet, etc.) Sorry if I missed you! We met a lot of new people and it was an awesome adventure.
What I learned (or remembered again!):
