Posts tagged Ultra
'Kórima' means 'sharing' in the language of the Tarahumara, the tribe most of us have come to know from the pages of Christopher McDougall’s Born to Run. But it means more than just ‘I’ll give you half of my orange,’ Kórima signifies a commitment to mutual assistance and support within the community. When I first read Born to Run four years ago I was not a runner – but the story that McDougall wove in those pages placed a longing in me –not just to run, but to able to run pain free, to be able to run an ultra, to run THE ultra – the Copper Canyon Ultra Marathon, and to experience the Kórima that seemed to exist in the crazy ultra-running community, especially by the ones that made the pilgrimage to the Copper Canyons to race with the Tarahumara, the ones Caballo Blanco, founder of the race appropriately named, “Mas Locos.” This March I was finally able to live out that dream – the only thing that was unfulfilled was meeting The White Horse himself – Micah True, who died on March 27th of 2012, eleven months before I was able to make it to the Canyons to run the race that is now named for him: Ultra Marathon Caballo Blanco.
Manuel Luna and Barefoot Ted, Urique, 2013.
¿Quien es Mas Loco? Caballo was fond of saying, “Who is crazier?” According to my wife and many of my friends and colleagues over the last four years, the answer would be: me. When I read Born to Run Valerie was pregnant with our second child, I was in my early 40s and had never run more than three miles without severe back pain, but was desperate for a time efficient way to stay in shape with the looming reality of two young boys, full time work, and a yard and chickens to take care of. The seemingly miraculous stories of Barefoot Ted and Chris McDougall transforming themselves into runners in their 40s, despite lifelong histories of running injuries sounded too good to be true, but I was desperate and hopeful enough to go online and buy a pair of Five Fingers. For most people buying a pair of Vibrams and being able to run in local 10k races may have been enough, but I tend to jump in with both feet sometimes – this time it was full on baptism by immersion. I contacted Barefoot Ted and attended his barefoot running clinic and thirteen months later ran my first ultra with Ted. Most of my friends put up with my crazy smelly toe shoes well enough, but the day I came home a year and a half ago and told my wife I was leaving my secure job at Seattle University to make huaraches with Barefoot Ted she essentially said, “ARE YOU CRAZY?!” I was one step closer to being a Mas Loco…
I’m goal driven, and for the past four years all of my goals have been stepping stones toward my One Goal – meeting Caballo Blanco in the canyons and running 50 miles with the Tarahumara. I lost part of that opportunity after Caballo wandered into the Gila Wilderness and never returned. But – I could still run the race, and I was determined to do it this year in honor of Micah and all he did to inspire me. I traveled with Ted, Bookis, and Scott, my coworkers at Luna Sandals. We met up in Mazatlan with several Mas Locos, including Luis Escobar, the central California ultra-runner and photographer who was also in the book Born to Run, and began the twenty-one hour road trip by every conceivable means of public transportation Mexico has to offer into the town of Urique at the bottom of the Copper Canyon. We arrived several days before the race. This allowed us to hike, swim, eat great food, adapt to the heat, and begin to get to know the 120 international runners and 300 Tarhumara runners we would be racing with the following Sunday.
On Thursday about eighty of us gathered for an early morning hike to one of Micah’s favorite spots, a small farm called Los Alisos. The day was unusually cool, and after three miles we reached our destination and relaxed, joked with new friends, and ate sweet grapefruit from the trees overhead. Maria Walton, ‘La Mariposa’ Micah’s soul mate and one of this year’s co race directors gathered us into a circle and read a story to us that Micah had written about the couple that had lived there. “The first time they made love was under the giant tree on his property” the story began. It went on to tell of their love and life together, the joy of the times they had welcomed him into their home, and how when they died a few years before, both in their 80’s, they were buried under the same tree, the one we were standing under now. Before she started reading, she pulled out Micah’s ashes and passed them around the circle, that we all might have a moment with him. Also as she read, Micah’s friend Flint started a small fire. After the reading Maria placed the story, and a special Copper Canyon race shirt with a white horse that had been given to her into the fire, and scattered Micah’s ashes around the base of the tree. She was followed closely by Guadajuko, Micah’s faithful dog.
The race began at 6am on Sunday. It would be my first 50 miler, and training in Seattle all winter did little to prepare me for the nearly one hundred degree weather I’d be running in all day. Unlike more than half the starters of the race, I did finish, but not without vomiting, weeping like a baby, and death marching across the finish line fourth from last. After training for four years specifically so I could run this race, I’d love to tell you that it was hard, but I persevered and finished because of my amazing will power and great training program, but I can’t. I finished because when I got back into Urique with ten miles to go and had already decided to quit, Luis Escobar saw me sit down on the sidewalk, ran up to me and asked me if I wanted to finish. “I want to finish so badly” was all I remember saying, and burst into tears. Luis then gave me the pep talk of the century. “I’ve been in WAY worse shape than this a hundred times!” Dehydration had caused severe stomach distress so that I had not been able to eat more than two tortillas or swallow more than a few drops of water at a time over the last fifteen miles. “You’ll feel better in ten minutes” Luis said, “Just sit here and take LITTLE sips, only LITTLE sips. If you quit now, what are you going to DO?! Lay in your bed? If you do you’ll feel better in fifteen minutes and beat yourself up for NOT finishing!”
“But I’m not going to make the cut off!” I wept.
“This is MEXICO, what do you think they are going to DO?!” He said. Then he took the yellow Buff off his head, soaked it with water and put it on my head. “I won the HURT 100 in this Buff, I’ve run Badwater three times in it, Western States seven times, NO ONE HAS EVER QUIT WHILE WEARING THAT BUFF, AND YOU ARE NOT GOING TO BE THE FIRST.” At the same moment I looked up and saw Scott and Bookis – Scott had his finisher’s medal on, and I did not want to go home without one. Luis asked if anyone would pace me through the last ten miles and Bookis, who had not run the race said, “Absolutely.” As we walked those last ten miles, and the sun began to set behind the canyon walls and the most beautiful night sky I’ve ever seen emerged, I vomited every last calorie I had left in me. Without Bookis there to laugh with me about how this was so much like the dramatic endings in all those awesome race documentaries we love to watch, I again would have quit. When I finally stumbled across the finish line, two hours after the official cut off time, but was still greeted by all my friends cheering for me, and Mariposa throwing her arms around me and a finisher’s medal around my neck, I was overwhelmed with joy, not the joy of the ‘personal accomplishment’ of completing a goal four years in the making, but the joy of experiencing the Kórima of this Mas Loco community.
This is a longer version of a piece that was originally published in the June 2013 issue of Trail Runner Magazine.
Note: Tom is the Sales Monkey (and so much more) here at Luna.
Majestic Oak trees were scattered across the rolling hills of dry grass around us. The marine layer was burning off and the morning sun was greeting us as we finished breakfast and lounged around camp. After some frisbee, a game of whiffle ball developed quickly as more people wanted to join the fun. There were no rules or teams, or maybe the rules and teams were made up and changed for each individual at every new moment of the game. Sometimes first base was at the porta-potties, sometimes there were no bases, sometimes you could throw the ball at someone to get them out, sometimes you could bat 5 times in a row, sometimes it turned into tag, and sometimes you had someone blowing bubbles behind you while you bat. We all were smiling, running around, and deeply engulfed in one of the best sessions of full on child-like play I have been in in a long time. It felt good. The game went on for hours. I couldn’t imagine a better way to kick off what was to be an amazing weekend of play, running, partying, and all kinds of shennanigans at the 2013 Born to Run Ultras.
The Born to Run Ultras are put on by the one and only Luis Escobar; Mas Loco, ultra-runner, and photographer extrordinaire. Located in Santa Barbara County, California, the BTR Ultras are among beautiful rolling grassy hills on a 4000 (?) acre private ranch. Participants are encouraged to camp on the ranch right at the starting line for the entire weekend of festivities including races of distances of 10 miles, 50k, 100k, and 100 miles. There was also Tarahumara style bola races, an unofficial beer mile, live music, a giant bonfire, blasting mariachi, delicious food, and much more. The course was basically a figure-8 of two different ten mile loops. After each loop every runner would be coming through camp and the start.
After whiffle ball on friday morning I began setting up the Luna Sandals booth where I would be selling Lunas. More and more people were arriving throughout the day. The first (unofficial) event of the day was the Beer Mile at 4pm hosted by Luna-tic, and beer mile champ, Patrick Sweeney. A beer mile consists of running a mile and drinking 4 beers. Drink a beer, run a quarter mile, and repeat until a mile and 4 beers are complete. People were excited for the beer mile. They gathered their beer (or root beer for a few) and lined up at the starting line of the quarter mile out and back as Sweeney explained the rules. Luis started the race with the shotgun. Patrick was first out of the gates. I sat out and took pictures and cheered on the runners. At this point I was noticing there was a lot of people in Lunas. It was really exciting for me to see so many people in them. The beer mile was fun to witness and looked like a blast for the participants unless you were one of the unlucky to puke on the course and have to run an extra quarter mile. Sweeney, of course, came out the winner.
After the beer mile was the Tarahumara style Bola races. Luis brought wooden balls from the Copper Canyons. It would be 10 or so heats of 5 participants racing a quarter mile-ish each kicking a wooden ball. Luna was donating a pair of sandals to the winner of each heat and all the proceeds (10$ each runner) went directly to Norawas, the non-profit that benefits the Tarahumara. Since Luna was sponsoring the Bola races I was handing out gift certificates to the winners and starting each heat with the shotgun. For me shooting the shotgun for each heat was just as fun as participating. Mariachi music blarred from the speakers, people raced, and people cheered. It was a great time.
After the Bola Races people hung around the camp and bonfire. A couple live bands played on the stage. People were dancing and hoola-hooping into the night. I manned the Luna Booth, sold some sandals, and met some great people. The night ended early so that we all could get up early the next morning for the start of the race.
At 4:15am our wake up call was 5 shotgun blasts followed by loud Mariachi music filling the dark campground. The race had sold out for a total of 450 people signed up to run that day. People lined up at the start, Luis made some course announcements, and I had the shotgun ready to start the race.
3. 2. 1… Bang! We were off. I handed Luis the shotgun, grabbed my water bottle and was off running down the dirt road in the crowd of runners. The course is a mix of dirt roads, two track, and some single track. It is a relatively easy course with about 1100 feet of elevation gain per 10 mile loop and not too technical. It is a very runnable course. I was running the 50k and I was excited to push my limits a bit at that distance.
I ran with so many friends, old and new. The Luna Tribe was strong and in full force. So many people were wearing Lunas out there. I felt so honored and special to be part of such a great group of people. As well as the usual suspects of Mas Loco Luna-tics and others, there was also a lot of Luna-tics who have been customers and supporters for a long time that I finally got to meet in person. It was exciting. I’m so grateful for all you!
The miles flew by as the sun slowly rose above the horizon. The course was beautiful. On the second loop there is an awesome section of single track atop a long ridge with great views all around. I was feeling really good. Towards the end of the second loop my hamstrings started to get a little crampy for whatever reason. I made sure to eat some salt and drink water but my legs stayed crampy off and on throughout the race. But it wasn’t bad and I felt very strong otherwise. By the third loop the sun was getting higher and it was starting to get hot. It probably hit about 90 degrees. In the last 2 or 3 miles there is a big gradual downhill so I let it loose and ran my fastest miles of the race. I came through the start/finish at mile 30 and just had a 1/2 mile out and back to be done. I ran it in and got my amulet finishers necklace made by Hawaiian ultra runner AcaBill. I crossed the finish line in 5 hours and 35 minutes which was my new personal record by a long shot. I was very happy with that. I was finally feeling like I could push my pace at the 50k and 50 mile distances instead of just trying to survive. It felt good to be noticing progress.
I was curious to see how others did and were doing. It turned out that Patrick Sweeney won the 50k again in 3 hours and 49 minutes. Team Luna runner Gregorio Ponce placed 2nd in the 10 miler in 1 hour even. Congrats guys! That made Pat the triple crown winner; he won the beer mile, his heat of the bola races, and the 50k. We grabbed some food and lounged around cheering on all the runners as they came through. That evening was a fun evening of hanging by the bonfire, watching Anthony shoot the pinata with the shotgun, push up acrobatics, human pyramids, and watching all the runners come through. I really wanted to stay up and watch all the runners come in but got tired and went to sleep. I was bummed I missed Tyler coming into the finish for his first 100 mile finish in 23 and half hours! Congrats Tyler, you’re a beast. James Bonnet ended up winning the 100 miler in 15 hours and some change and took home the surf board prize. Congrats to Jess on the 100k and to Dawn Marie on her first ultra. Congrats to Jim on his first 100 miler and so many others that ran strong and had fun.
What really makes this event special is the great community of people involved. I came away from the weekend feeling like I had just participated in something very special and unique. The feeling and vibe at the event really only reminds me of the vibe of one other event I’ve been a part of and that is the Caballo Blanco Ultramarathon. It is hard to describe the vibe of these two events. I’m not going to try anymore here. Go do them, you won’t regret it.
Thank you everyone involved!!! Thanks to all the Lunatics out there for your support. Thanks to Sweeney for driving and letting me stay at your house. Thanks to all the volunteers and wonderful people cooking those delicious burritos. Congratulations Luis on putting on such an amazing event! I will definitely be back next year!
I sat slumped over in a camp chair by the fire. It was dark and cold in those mountains in the wee hours of the night. I was tired, delirious, and defeated. I was at mile 68 of the Bear 100. As we neared the aid station I told Sweeney, my pacer, that I was done, that I was dropping out at this aid station. When I told him tears welled up in my eyes at the verbal admission of defeat. I was glad that the darkness hid my face. I held it in and tried not to cry. I wasn’t ashamed to cry but I didn’t want to completely fall apart out there and I was on the verge of falling apart. I sat there trying to make excuses in my head, trying to justify my decision. I laid my head down in my lap and dozed off for a few minutes…
The Bear 100 is a 100 mile point to point trail race in the Wasatch mountains of Utah and a little bit of Idaho. It has 22,000 feet of elevation gain and is 70% single track, 30% dirt road. I chose the Bear as my first 100 because I love the Wasatch Mountains, I grew up there, and that its point to point, mostly single track, has a lot of climbing, and would be really tough. And because of all that it was an appealing and exciting event for me. Plenty of other 100’s would have been easier for my first 100 but none excited me as much as this one. When I told Shawn I was thinking about signing up for the Bear it seemed like a joke. It seemed a little too crazy. But the more I looked at it the more I rationalized it and I signed up. I’m so glad Shawn was crazy enough to sign up too. He always is.
A week before the race I flew out to Utah and spent a few days acclimatizing in the canyons and mountains of southern Utah. We gathered pine nuts, made primitive pottery, and went on some hikes. (More on that in a later report.) Once back in Salt Lake I picked up Patrick Sweeney from the airport and the usual crew started assembling. We stayed with our good friends Shawn and Stephanie. The day before the race we drove to Logan, Utah, checked into our hotel and drove out to the mountains to check out some of the course.
Sweeney, Me, and Shawn.
The fall colors were in full effect. It was so beautiful. The aspens and oaks were bright red, orange, and yellow. It was pretty unimaginable to think that I would be trying to run 100 miles the next day but the gorgeous mountains got me excited. I had been nervous all week. Not too nervous consciously but subconsciously I think I was. I hadn’t been sleeping well the whole time in Utah.
I had done most of my physical training for the Bear in the Cascades of Washington.(training video) Mentally I had been visualizing the course and my run for weeks or months. Visualizing is an essential part of getting mentally prepared for me. I imagine different sections of the course, what the weather could feel like, how fast I might be moving, how I could be feeling, and I try to visualize myself moving light, smooth, and effortlessly through the mountains. I try to visualize my realistic goal pace. For the Bear I really just wanted to finish but I would have also really liked to finish in under 30 hours too. And so I visualized myself on pace for a 29:00 hour finish, floating up the mountains in the dark, or coasting down the hills in the aspens. But as hard as I tried to visualize the night and second day were pretty hard to imagine.
That night the entire crew assembled for dinner. Me and Shawn would be running the next day and our absolutely amazing crew was Sweeney, Steph, Eric, Izzy, Rebecca, Conner, Jesse, Melodie and Jackie. We ate Thai food that night though it probably wasn’t the best choice for the night before the race, but what is? I couldn’t think of anything better. We scrambled to get our things together and our crew instructed that night and got to bed by about 10:00-10:30. I didn’t sleep great but I didn’t expect to so it was fine. We woke up at 4:30 and were off to the start. It wasn’t as cold as I was expecting in the dark morning. I was so glad the weather was forecasted to be sunny and clear. Here we are just before the race:
I would be testing a new unreleased trail Luna model called The Oso. Which means ‘the Bear’ in spanish. I had been training in them for the last couple months and thought it would be the ultimate final test to test ‘The Bear’ at The Bear.
In the dark morning 250 or so runners embarked on a 100 mile journey. After a quarter mile through a sleepy neighborhood we were on single track climbing up the first big mountain. Shawn and I ran together in the dark chatting about who knows what. Excitement was in the air and time and distance flew by. Before we knew it we were at the top of the first climb, about 4000 feet of elevation gain, just in time for the sunrise. It was so invigorating and beautiful. This picture doesn’t even come close to doing it justice but gives you an idea. That’s Logan, where we started, down in the valley.
With the first big climb done and now in the beautiful morning light Shawn and I were anxious to pick up the pace. We sailed down the mountains in the red oaks and golden aspens. We were still chatting and time was flying. Before we knew it we were at the mile 20 aid station and the first station were we would see our crew. I felt super fresh and we were 30 min ahead of the 29:00 finish pace I had figured out. We grabbed some snacks and water and excitedly gushed to our friends about how awesome it was so far.
We left the aid station and had just a short 3 mile stretch to the next aid station at mile 23. We didn’t really stop there and pushed onward into the next big climb. It was heating up and of course we were slowing down. The mountains were still beautiful though. Somewhere around mile 28 I started to not feel very good. I was getting a little nauseous and having a hard time eating. At the 30 mile aid station I ate a little and used the bathroom. But still felt sick. By the time I got to the aid station at mile 36 I was feeling really sick and out of it. The crew said I was acting drunk. Part of me was still having a great time and another was miserable.
I was getting really nervous. To say “64 more miles seemed like a long ways” is an understatement. My crew took great care of me. They were so good to me. I changed socks, got a foot massage, and ate some food. It felt very weird to have a bunch of people feeding me and massaging me and pampering me. Thanks guys! After a long rest I finally got up and back on the trail. I still felt sick but I was moving forward. We climbed more. We climbed a lot. Shawn moved on ahead of me with Conner pacing him. At this point my focus became just to make it to the next aid station. Finishing was a pipe dream. I tried hard to eat, take salt, and drink water. I reached the mile 45 aid station pretty sick and tired. But my crew was now getting their groove with this whole crewing thing. I just sat there and probably mumbled incoherently as they prepped me and fed me. And somehow I was ready to get back on the trail after another long break. Through all this I was having all kinds of highs and lows emotionally and physically.
The sun was setting as we embarked on another big climb. 3000 feet of gain. I was still climbing well. On this stretch I picked up my first pacer; the wonderful Isabelle. We chatted and the climb was very pleasant. Beautiful color in the golden hour light. But the light left and we entered the darkness again. We dawned headlamps and moved forward. Still all I could imagine doing was just getting to the next aid station. With the temps having gone down my stomach started feeling a little better but the toll of not eating well and being sick and running 50 miles was still a giant load. We rolled into the 51 mile aid station at Tony Grove. I was getting even more nervous. I didn’t feel like I could even make it to the next aid station let alone finish. My spirits were pretty low but my crew beat some life into me with massages and warm food and magic.
My brain was definitely not functioning properly. I felt drunk. I sat for a long time not wanting to think about going forward. I had caught up to Shawn at this point and he was struggling here as well. I put on some warm layers and Sweeney got me up and we headed into the night. Onward. Sweeney would be my pacer for the next 25 miles. I was seeing a pattern here. I leave an aid station feeling pretty good for 2-3 miles then suffer for 3-4 miles then get to another aid station and need a long pit stop to recharge. Somewhere on this stretch my bowels started to give me trouble. I had to venture out into the woods to take care of business every half hour. That was not fun. Especially after running out of wet wipes and having to use pine cones and rocks which did not feel good on my cheeks that were already pretty raw and rashy from running 55-60 miles. I know, that is probably TMI but that is all apart of ultras. I had been lubing my cheeks with vasoline since mile 36. Sweeney kept me going well. I trudged along. On top of being tired, sleep deprived, and sore, my bowel troubles seemed to be the straw that was breaking the camels back.
…In the wee hours of the night I decided I couldn’t go anymore. I finally reached the mile 68 aid station and was set on dropping out. I rested my head and dozed off for a few minutes by the fire. This aid station was not crew accessible. Otherwise things might have been very different. I sat by the fire and listened to a woman who had hit her head, may have had a concussion, seemed way more out of it than me and she was debating whether or not to drop out. Another guy was sitting by the fire who was dropping out. As I sat there I realized I was in better shape than they were. Also, a big factor was that I didn’t want to have to ask a stranger for a ride at 4am to go find my crew who were at the next aid station waiting for me. (no cell service up there.) That seemed so embarrassing. I just wanted to lay down. But to lay down without freezing to death meant I needed to get to my crew. So I thought, what the hell, I guess I’ll just go the 7 miles to the next aid station and my crew and drop out there. That whole time Sweeney was very encouraging. It was so hard to leave that fire and get back out there.
So I got up from that warm fire and we entered the darkness again. I didn’t have much pep in my step at this point because I was in the mindset of dropping out at the next aid station. Sweeney would coax me into running runnable sections and I would think ‘why run if I’m just dropping out’. And if you didn’t know, mountain hundred milers are a lot of hiking. As time went on Sweeney and I were joking and having some good conversation that was surely of the bizarre sleep deprived drunk kind. Sweeney found me a hiking stick and we named it Poley Moses. And then it started to get light. A little bit at a time. It was so gorgeous in those mountains. It hit me that this was the second sunrise I was seeing since I had started the journey over 24 hours previous. That seemed so powerful to me. I had gone over 70 miles through the mountains. And with the dim pre-dawn light came a hint of hope. As it got lighter I realized I was feeling better. It was crazy. The new morning was a new day and my body was ready to start over. By the time we got to the Beaver Lodge aid station at mile 75 I was beaming inside. I had gained hope of actually finishing and I was feeling better than I had since mile 20. This was a true miracle. A miracle of the body and mind that I am so grateful for. I had no idea that bodies in general, let alone my broken body, were capable of that kind of recovery on the go. Thinking about that sunrise and breaking through that wall and the experience of that morning makes the emotions well up inside my chest. Thanks for getting me through the night Sweeney.
At Beaver Lodge I used a real bathroom, got cleaned up, fueled up, and picked up my next pacer Jesse. Who had only been running a few months but had recently ran his first race which was a 3:30 mountain marathon for 8th place. He was definitely Eric’s brother. They are both insanely talented runners. I would have to pick up the pace a lot if I wanted to make the cutoff. Shawn was 30-40 min. ahead of me. Jesse and I left the lodge and logged some fast miles. I was feeling great. My legs and feet were of course sore but overall I was determined and excited. I was cruising the uphills passing people and then they would pass me on the down hill as I gently pitter pattered down. I didn’t have the agility to dance down the rocks anymore so I had to go pretty slow down hill.
Another thing I was experiencing by that point was hallucinations. They weren’t crazy trippy hallucinations but I was definitely seeing things once in a while that weren’t there. Mostly I would look up and think that I saw an aid station tent in the trees and think ‘oh awesome, I’m already to the aid station.’ Then I would look up again and it would be gone. Once I thought I saw Steph on the side of the trail. I thought I was seeing cabins in the woods. At the time it seemed completely normal. It didn’t even register that I was hallucinating until later. At the time I would just think ‘dammit, where did that aid station go.’
Jesse and I cruised through the mountains. The aid station stops were short and sweet. The day warmed up again and I was so excited to be feeling great. When I hit the Beaver Creek Campground aid station at mile 85 my crew was so excited for me because I was coming in faster than they expected and Shawn had just left right before I got there. I still felt the urgency of making the cut-off so we didn’t dawdle and were out of there quick. After climbing some more mountains and moving at a determined optimistic pace we made it to the last aid station; Ranger Dip at mile 92. Just as I was coming up to the aid station my crew was cheering for me from a hundred yards away. Shawn was getting ready to leave. I hadn’t seen him since the previous night at mile 50 or 60 something. It was so good to see him. Everyone was so excited. I felt so happy and proud. After all we had been through we both new at that point that there was no way we weren’t going to finish.
I enjoyed my last quick round of massages and pampering and was back on the trail. Everyone was all smiles.
Immediately out of Ranger Dip is the steepest hill of the course. It was just about going straight up the mountain. At the top we were above 9000’ feet and that was the last climb of the course. All I had left was a 4000 foot descent in six miles. I would have loved to cruise the downhill but my legs just weren’t up for it. There was some rolling portions through the aspens that I was running but a good bit of the downhill was too steep and rocky for me to run. So I slowly made my way down. Bear Lake sprawled across the valley below with the tiny town of Fish Haven hugging the lake at the bottom of the mountain. It was steep rocky and dusty and just when you think you are getting to a smooth road of Fish Haven, Idaho the trail turns and goes up another little hill. But the smooth road came and I started trotting. As I got closer I got more excited and ran faster. I crossed the main highway and turned into the final stretch of driveway to cheers and the finish.
Crossing the finish line felt so good. I hugged Shawn and the rest of my crew, sat down, and ate some food. We did it. I couldn’t have done it without my crew. Thanks everyone! My official time was 34:51. I got the Black Bear belt buckle. I’m proud to have my first 100 mile buckle.
Running 100 miles felt like a vision quest. It altered my mind and destroyed my concepts of my boundaries and limits. It changed me and the experience was stuck in my brain for days afterwards. A week after the race Shawn sent me a message that he couldn’t stop thinking about the Bear. I felt exactly the same way. The experience was just so powerful, it wouldn’t leave me. I have never experienced something like that before. Thinking about that second sunrise with the shining golden aspens and my body and mind magically recovering blows me away. There are all kinds of interesting aspects of running 100. Our friend Andrew Labbe mentioned that you get a lifetime of varied emotions compressed into 30 hours. Others say running 100 is like running three 50’s. But for me it was just so different I can’t even compare it to a 50. Several times during the race I experienced ‘breaking through walls’. Which I had hit walls in previous races but nothing like at the Bear. I’m excited to run another 100. At this point I think I may be addicted to running. : )
'The Oso' Lunas held up and performed amazingly. They were enough rock protection, great traction, very secure, and comfortable. I didn't get any blisters or bruises. I love that about Lunas. Though after the race I did notice that the tip of my left big toe was numb. but no big deal, you can't expect to walk away completely unscathed after 100 miles. I was sore for a couple days but not as bad as I expected. I was capable of running a few days later.
I’m already scheming and planning for my next runs and races. I will definitely be going back down to the canyons for the Caballo Blanco (Copper Canyon) Ultramarathon in 2013.
And, as always, there is a ton more I could talk about but that is it for now.
Thanks to everyone! Shawn congrats and thank you! Thanks to Sweeney, Steph, Rebecca, Conner, Eric, Jesse, Melody, and Jackie. You all are the best crew and friends. Thanks to the Luna crew at the shop. Thanks Leland and all of the volunteers at the Bear. It was a great event! And again, thanks to the wilderness and its beautiful existence.
Until the next adventure.