TNF Chile. My First 100 Miler. My First DNF.

"The first cut is the deepest, baby, I know..."-- Sheryl Crow.

Friday, October 16, 11:13 pm. No, no, we couldn't possibly be going up there. We should have turned downhill by now. Oh cool, look at this blue rock...

25 minutes later... I stood knee deep in snow and the cool, wind whistled around me, blowing my braids in my mouth. Spitting out a wad of hair, I looked up. The white cinta, or markers, had been swallowed by the mountain, along with my willpower. I only knew that I had to continue trudging up by the fluorescent orange jacket and click-clack of poles making their way up, up up into the thinning air.

What seemed like eons away, in some other life, was the bustling of anxious nerves, strong and leathered legs, and flashing headlamps gathered around a rope. Looking out at the twinkling lights of Santiago, I made a concerted effort to focus on my breathing. I stood picking at my sparkling nailpolish, simultaneously fully expectant and completely oblivious to what lay ahead. Soon, the small, intimate group of men and women around me started counting down in Spanish. People with flashing cameras crowded in around us. I wondered if they were going to move, we would stampede them, or we simply would not start. Zeroooooo! The tape went up, the cameras moved aside, and we took off. Very quickly, I found myself bent over with my hands on my quads moving upwards into the unknown. This was the position I would be in most of the day...


September 6, 8:20pm. To Meghan Arbogast: "I have confidence that I can finish 100 miles in October. It'll be tough and I won't run as much as I should if I was 100%. But I had May and June and most of July. And those were great months. And I'm getting to be a good hiker. I thought about it all day. I can do what I can until I can't. Then I can hike"

From the get go, I was hiking. Through the darkness, I tried avoiding sharp, low-hanging branches, and cautiously used my hands to scramble over rocks. I tried making small talk with the men grunting around me, but nobody was listening. Perhaps they were listening to Taylor Swift. I made a mental note to ask Stephanie if she had my headphones, as I had seemingly forgotten them. Drat. Oh well, maybe this would be good for personal development, or I can study for physiology...

The ridgeline kept moving upwards, I wondered when it would end. Mira! A man shouted behind me. I stopped, turned around, and stood gazing at the most incredible sunrise I had seen. The lights of Santiago, were still twinkling through the hazy fog. Green waves of ridges rose from the depths of the fog until they disappeared into the snow-capped peaks of the Andes. The sky, bluer by the minute, cast orange & pink-mixed rays of light onto the mountains. They looked warm, inviting, and sparked a love in my heart. I smiled, then continued upwards, still stealing glances of wonderous joy at those far, far away mountains.

Fresh as Daisies!

The trail, after 5 miles, finally topped out onto a grassy field. The sky was still getting brighter when I switched off my headlamp. I followed the leader down through cow fields. Weaving through trees, we mashed our feet into thick, globby mud. Mis pies estan pesados! I laughed, but nobody else joined me. Sigh.

I could hear the shouting before I could see them. Happily, I ran into the first AS where my energetic crew awaited me. Mario & Rocko from TNF South America, my mother & Stephanie Howe greeted me. Stephanie forced a Snickers bar into my hand, as she helped me load up on gels. It would be a while until I saw them again... Mario filled up my water bottles and told me the three women leaders were 13 minutes ahead. I didn't really care since we were 12k into a 160k race; I'll do my own thing and just focus on finishing.

Locked & loaded, I left. I started with gels every 20 minutes, just as Steph had instructed me to do, but they were not settling well. it took considerable effort to get one down. Hopefully the Snickers would be better...

The next mile or so, we ran through beautiful, green fields (again, not on an actual trail). Some sections, we were surrounded by tall, yellow mustard flowers and trees. My heart was so happy to see so much green, flowers, and trees! It took the edge off the discomfort of forcing down a Snickers bar... Soon, my stomach started really hurting. I took this as a sign that I should back off the pace and maybe walk for a bit. A woman came up behind me and asked me how I was doing and what was wrong. I said my stomach hurt and she offered me food, but I politely declined as I had a pack full of goop. She encouraged me to run with her and told me about herself. The language barrier was a bit steep, but I got to practice my Spanish. I told her she was the first person to talk to me all day, and she laughed. We got to a muddy hill surrounded by long-horned cows. I pointed and asked how to say what they were in Spanish. Vaca, she replied, and again, laughed at me. She and another Argentinian scooted up the hill past me, and I was left to myself.

Soon after PC1

Here is where things started to fall apart. Rolling, punchy climbs and steep, slippery descents, caused me to freak out. I was tired already and only 12 miles in. I started crying when it was time to eat another gel. F this. Where the hell am I. This is hard. How can I possibly do this?

Crying & stumbling, I made my way along the trail. Stupidly, I had forgotten to ask Stephanie for my headphones, so I was left with my thoughts- my own worst enemy. I sobbed as I sucked down a Gu and meandered down a trail-less, angry cow-filled grass hill. I sloshed through a stream of cold, ice melt and dragged myself up the hill. I saw a photographer in the distance and knew I would approach the second AS soon. I wiped my tears and put on a good face running in. The RD, Nick, and several new friends from the SA team were there and helped me refill my bottles with coke. (Yes, straight coke). They asked me how I was doing and I replied that I felt awful. Nick gave me some words of wisdom and told me to keep fighting. They cheered as I left and I felt renewed.

At AS2. The coca cola begins. PC Matias Bull

Bubbling with energy, I started running up the gradual slope. As the slope got steeper, the AS fading into memory, and the mud more slick, my energy gradually drained. I resumed a quiet cry and my hands-on-knees mountain-climbing pose. A man passed me and asked what was wrong. Again, I pointed to my stomach and he asked if he could help. No, I'm fine. And he disappeared above. Already, it was time to eat again and I groaned inwardly. I reached into my pack and found a Peanut Butter packet. At 200 kcal/packet, I only had to sip half of it per time chunk. Surprisingly, it wasn't as bad and I could get it down without gagging. The combination of fizzy coke and hearty peanut butter must have done the trick because I made that next hour my b*tch.

I power hiked the shit out of that hill. I passed the man and he was shocked. Estas mejor?! Siiiiii was my reply as I began running the now-flatter part. I thought we were at the top. We had been climbing for four miles, so it must have been time...

The crew & Vero Bravo

But the white cinta kept leading me forward and up. A giant peak with snow towered in front of me. There was no way they would make us go up and over that thing. When I was close enough to make out brightly colored jackets against the snow, I gulped. The slope turned drastically steep and I assumed the "mountain-climbing position". There was no time for tears as it was very cold, and I was intensely focused on finding blue rocks under the snow. I found a couple and put them into my pack (Don't ask...). Soon, the snow got deep enough where I was hopping into other, previous runners' footprints as it was mid calf-knee deep. Soon, the summit came and I found two brave souls at the 3rd AS ready to help. I refilled with coke and took off downhill (finally).

Sucking the energy from flowers

The first two miles of the fire road downhill, was more like skate skiing through the snow. This was maybe the most fun I had all day, despite the fact that my hands were really cold and I had stupidly given my gloves to Stephanie at the first AS because it was not (required gear). Then the snow disappeared and we weaved our way down. I fell into pace with Pablo from Peru. His English was fantastic and we shared the entire downhill, talking and laughing. This was incredible. At Mile 12 I wanted to quit, but he kept me going and distracting me from those negative thoughts. His stories were awesome and I will definitely cherish those miles for a long time. The 20k downhill was actually more like 13.5m, but who's counting... I grabbed a golden poppy I saw on the side of the trail and put it in my braid. It made me think of all my friends in CA and how they would want me to keep going with a smile.


At about 52km into the race, I arrived at the 4th AS to see my amazing crew. I gave my rocks to Stephanie in exchange for those awful gels and refilled my bottles with more coke. They shooed me out and up before I had time to drop, which had been my plan. They said they'd be at the next AS, "just 10km away", and by the time I remembered how much I wanted to drop, I was too far up the hill and they had taken off.

Yup...

I began crying heading up the steep, technical, loose-dirt, cactus-filled, hateful hill. At some parts, it was so awful that I had to stop so I could cry a bit harder. Pablo soon passed me and told me to keep going and see him again. My mantra for this section was it was just 10km...

More false summits, some snow, and steep, narrow ridgelines later, I was at 11km and the AS was nowhere in sight. Pablo was ahead and I was sobbing uncontrollably as I stumbled down the hill. Tears clouded my eyes and I could not focus on where the steep, loose trail was going. Snowy Andes mountains and the ridges I was traversing, cut through the fog sharply all around me. I tried to fill my heart with the joy from those mountains I had felt so, so much earlier. It didn't work.

I thought about what I had told Meghan. I was so excited about my first 100 miler, this opportunity to see Chile, and to gain points for UTMB- an ultimate dream I have held intensely for the last five years. I believed so much in myself, it was incredible. I was confident and excited. At that point, high above Santiago, I was so supremely sucked of everything within me. I had been feeling so empty for so long, too. I had no will, no hope, no joy, no drive, no energy... nothing but tears and extreme disappointment. I knew it was over. I knew it was too much for me. Everything in my body ached and I was broken.

Pablo from Peru & some of the others before PC5 (Not my Pic)

Finally, I made it to the Aid Station. But my crew was not there. When I didn't see Stephanie's silver puffy jacket, a weight inside me dropped. I didn't think I could feel more low, but then I didn't underestimate how wrong I could be. I immediately sat down on the aid station and cried harder. With my face on the ground, I created mud with my tears. Pablo was there and sat to rub my back, comforting me. He told me it's just 10 more kilometers and the hill was just like the first we had come down together. Seeing as there was no way down other than to run, I slowly got up and ate a banana and filled my bottles, again, with coke (we're at 5L now consumed). I had run out of food about an hour and half previous to that AS. I made my way down the hill, which took a lot longer than promised and I half cried every time I wondered when I would see my mom and Stephanie.

The downhill ensued and I came to a highway. Police escorts led me across it and directed me to go up. I made my way from the highway through a couple neighborhoods. Without the course guides and white tape, I would have been completely lost. Soon, I was directed towards a small bridge and back to where the trail seems to have resumed. I craned my neck upwards to stare up at the rock before me. White tape waved in the wind, high, high up and I had my right hand holding the chain that had been bolted into the rock so I could make my way up. I let go of the chain, sat down next to the rock, and cried. Hard. A man soon came up behind me and urged me on. In Spanish, that I could barely understand, he told me just 1 km more after the short hill. He continued on ahead and I hauled my ass up that rock. With so many false corners, a continuous uphill, and more than 1 kilometer, I cried as I slowly walked. Out of nowhere, Rocko came bounding up the trail. He scooped me up into a giant embrace and I hugged him as if my life depended on it. After I had wiped snot and tears all across his shirt, he encouraged me to walk with him.

I love this girl more than chocolate.

We talked for a bit and he told me about his climbing. He was so encouraging and it lifted my spirits as much as it could. I told him we needed to run (as it wasn't that far away now) because I didn't want to get caught in the dark. The sun was beginning to set and cast a pink glow on the mountains behind me. I arrived into the AS and immediately fell into Stephanie's arms and told her, at halfway, I couldn't go on. I was absolutely petrified at the prospect of going farther, let alone into the night. I knew how long it would take, how much my body already hurt, and the idea of having zero distractions in the dark. Plus, the obstacles presented by the trail would be just that much more magnified at night. I sat down and cried. Since I hadn't eaten in around 2.5-3 hours, I downed as many pringles as I could. Shivering and crying, I knew it was done. My journey ended there. My mom encouraged me to get into Rocko's truck, where it was warmer out of the wind. That was the nail in the coffin for my DNF. At this point, I had stopped crying. There was nothing left.


Driving back to our hotel, I gazed out the window at the fiery, burning orange sunset sparking the tops of the snowy peaks. Soon, the peaks faded and skyscrapers replaced them. Several things led me to this failure: a giant buildup of caloric deficit and inability to consume anything, not being ready physically with little training after a comeback from injury. These multiplied and grew out of proportion as I emotionally and mentally lost it. With all of this, for my first hundred, given the course, it was way too hard. There was simply no way. I was not physically injured, but simply broken.


After, Stephanie and I got to tour Santiago through wine, Pisco, food, subway, chocolate, and a quest for wifi to study. We had a blast. She taught me what the Grateful Game is, and that's definitely helped put my bitter, disappointment over not finishing, into perspective. So I'm going to play:

-I'm grateful for amazing sponsors that would invite me to explore such a unique area and experience a completely different side of the world. The crew at TNF South America have been so hospitable and helped immensely to get me as far as I did.
-I have amazing people in my life encouraging me always- friends, family, professors... I am especially grateful for Meghan. She coaches me and helps me strive, to the best of my ability, for those far-out dreams I conjure late at night. She is more of a friend than a coach, at times, but always positively pushing me forward. Stephanie Howe has been an infinite source of last minute advice, tips, and companionship. I am so lucky to have had her with me and as a friend. My family is always infallible, bottom line.
-The people I met were so, so lovely. They went out of their way to help me, despite running 100 miles themselves. The camaraderie and love I experienced was unlike anything else; I will hold onto those precious moments.
-I got to the starting line healthy and I finished half of the course without serious injury. I am grateful for a working, healthy, strong body.

HERE is the Pre Race Preview provided by Matias Bull of TrailChile.
HERE is the course review by TrailChile
HERE is the post run write up by Kit Fox & Red Bull.
HERE is my Strava data (I had missed a couple miles due to stopping my watch & time includes sitting at the end)
HERE is the race website- I HIGHLY recommend this race. It is beautiful, well put on, and awesomely hard for those wanting a challenge.

Congrats to all those who had finished the race! Bravo!

Balance.

Recently I published a blog post for SisuGirls on balance. It's hard to attain and I have to keep reminding myself to continuously practice the art of reaching for it. As I am coming back from a tough injury that has put my dreams on hold for a bit, I need to practice what I preach with even more vigor. If I get swept up in negative thinking, taking on too much, and not properly recovering the body & mind, I definitely go a little crazy. Anxiety attacks are a real and common thing in my world. Sometimes all I need to do is just sit down on the trail for a bit and deep breathe. Connecting back to why I am out there brings me back to the present and makes for more quality time spent outside and in my work.

Here is the blog post.

It is 7:15 pm. The sun is setting, and I sit in my car at the trailhead, still in my clothes from work. I let out a long audible sigh though nobody is around to hear it. I am tired, I have a lot of homework, and I would rather go home to make dinner and drift into a magical dreamland. But I have goals, dreams, and the will to be much greater than I am. And so the trail beckons and my footsteps soon hit the crunchy gravel.

Why do we do this? Why do we choose pain and discomfort from the regular mundane? It’s because adventurous people cannot sit still. We thrive from working hard, sweating daily, and that feeling of accomplishment. Adventurous people are both intrinsically motivated and intrinsically satisfied.

So, how do we do it? How can we pursue goals, adventure, and an outdoor lifestyle while still adhering to the expectations of the regular world? The answer is simple: finding balance.

I have thought about this often and thoroughly. But after watching a short film created by my friends and sisters in sports, Stephanie Howe & Ashley Arnold, I decided to put pen to paper and write it out concretely.

To attain balance, here are some tips I try to follow:

BE GOAL ORIENTED.

I find I can pursue my absolute best when I set goals for myself. I like to make micro and macro goals. For instance, I ask myself, what can I do this week, this month? What do I want to accomplish? Is it a full work week with two long runs on the weekend? For my macro goals, I like to dream big. What exciting adventure am I saving up for? When I graduate, what career do I want to pursue? Sometimes those lofty dreams can seem super far away in the moment, so having micro goals help to keep the workflow going smoothly and to grant minor successes along the way.

REWARD YOURSELF.

Setting standards for yourself and being disciplined isn’t sustainable in the long run unless you give yourself a reward now and then. These can go hand in hand with your micro and macro goals. For example, I strive to do my school work diligently and adhere to my training schedule each week. So after I have finished studying and completed my long run, I will indulge in my favorite dark chocolate almonds or a mocha latte. My macro goals are almost rewards in itself. When I graduate college, I want to spend the summer in Europe training for my ultimate goal: The Ultra Trail du Mont Blanc 100 mile. Playing in the Alps will be my treat for studying hard and finishing my classes.

BE FLEXIBLE.

It’s okay; life happens. Failing to do a task or not completing a goal is totally fine. Everybody goes through this, and it always provides a lesson. There are days when I cannot get out to the trails because of work or school. One day off will not kill you or completely set you back. Stepping back and relaxing is even encouraged once in a while. If you have too much going on, pursuing mental health and stability is of much greater importance.

MAKE IT A HABIT.

As a student, my life is constantly on the go. But budgeting time and thinking ahead helps me get things done in work and play. Making things routine may seem to revert life back to the mundane and regular, but that’s where the reward system comes in to spice it up! I always change the location of my Saturday morning run to keep it interesting. They say it takes 21 days to create a habit. So when it gets hard, don’t lose hope. It WILL get easier.

HAVE FUN!

The whole point of why we are out there is because we love it! Stopping to look at vistas, picking flowers, and jumping around on rocks lets me connect back to my original purpose of playing outside. Everything you are doing, you should be doing because you love it.

Around 9:00 pm, I arrive back to the trailhead. Breathless, sweaty, dirty, and with rosy cheeks. I am grinning. I ran fast up one hill, and I almost tripped on a few rocks. A flower, almost dead from a beating, is strewn across my hair. It was blooming in the sunset, and I just had to pick it. It is now dark, and I didn’t get to study as much as I wanted for that one test tomorrow, but the happiness and triumph from my heart furiously beating is worth so much more.

White (Out) River 50 Mile; Race Report.

My last long race at Leona Divide 50m was less than ideal. I had worked very hard focused a lot of energy on that being my A race. Long story short, it was a shit show and I stopped at an aid station halfway wanting to quit for 45 minutes. Now that I am training for a 100 miles, which is more of a mental marathon than physical, I wanted to have a race in between Leona Divide and Pine to Palm 100. I wanted a good memory and something positive to fall back on in moments of self doubt and negativity, as I would be dumb to say those won’t happen.

Bend... Just stop.

Running with Steph, Riley & Jack

This summer I have been kept super busy working in the lab and running a lot with friends over the weekends. So, I hadn’t thought much about my impending, redeeming, 50 mile race: White River. Last weekend I went on some really quality training runs near Bend, OR. Every time I go, I fall more in love with that area. On Saturday, I ran around Green Lakes and Soda Creek trails on a gorgeous day; I felt like I was floating. Sunday I ran with Stephanie (Howe) & Zach Violett and their super in shape dog, Riley. Seriously, Riley can definitely kick my butt any day. We ran this awesome loop around 3 Finger Jack. It was gorgeous but I bonked so hard as it was 100% exposed and very hot.

The day before the race, I got off work early and drove to Crystal Mountain Resort in Mt Rainier Natl Park, WA. The drive through gorgeous mountains alone had me drooling and wishing for a 48 hour adventure run rather than a race. I got to the resort in time to hear a course briefing from Scott McCoubrey, RD, and get checked in. I ate my Tupperware dinner and crawled into my sleeping bag in the back of my car.

Off & Running! PC Glenn Tachiyama

Love this girl!

6 am the race was off. For some odd reason, I led the women’s pack at mile 1. I did not intend to go out any faster than I felt was good for me. I got passed by a LOT of people in the first couple miles. Whatever, I thought, I’ll catch back up, they’ll fade back, we still have 46 more miles to go… After 5k, the course started winding up, up, up. For ten miles, I had my hands on my knees and huffed around switchbacks on the first climb. It was cold, wet, windy, and I felt like I was sucking supremely. Not again, I thought, why can’t I nail the 50 mile distance? Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed running along huge cliffs, by waterfalls, up steep stairs, and through the mud. The forest in the rain and fog is one of my favorite spots to be. However, for that climb, I was not having a good day. I felt so tired, heavy and slow. It was very frustrating. I didn’t let the thought of quitting enter my mind, but by the time we started heading back on the OAB section, I had decided today would be good 100 mile practice: long time on my feet, not feeling good, and just getting it done. Sigh.

Scott's Course Map

Fortunately, at that point, I had started running with two other women, Monica Ochs & Sarah Parker. We commiserated that we weren’t having the days we had hoped for, but filled that whole downhill with great conversation. Both women were nurses and so I had a lot of questions for them as well. By the time we hit mile 27 Aid station, my outlook had become a lot more positive. Unfortunately, I had become happy and fine with just running to finish the darn thing, but then a volunteer had to go and tell me I was 12^th woman. Drat. Now that the possibility of making top ten entered my mind, I dropped my complacent attitude and started running a little faster.

We had another long climb and I surprised myself by running most of the way up it. I knew we had a downhill then 10km to the finish, both things I estimated I could coast on, so I had to really put in the work on the hill. On the way up, I passed a lot of people to the tune of David Guetta and Spanish flamenco. Near the top of the hill, I came upon a woman in blue. I hiked/ran behind her for quite some time. Neither of us giving an inch. We went on like this for a long while until we came to a little bit of a downhill (a major fakeout before a steep pitch to Suntop- the last bit of the climb). I burst around her and sprinted as hard as I could down the trail. The mud made it a bit of an extreme slip n slide, but I made it upright, with grace and poise. I also gapped her a little. However, she very persistently followed me on that steep part to the aid station. We arrived at the same time and she opened her pack to have her bladder filled. Seizing this opportunity, I grabbed one gel and took off.

Course profile. I clocked it at 9500' gain.

This is where I put on the hurt. From Suntop, the course winds down a fire road for several miles to the last aid station. I hurled myself as fast as I could down the road. I kept looking over my shoulder and would see a blue figure emerging from the white mist. I hugged the turns as best I could to try to put physical objects like trees, in between us. Usually, when one loses sight of a competitor they are chasing, they start to give up. This downhill was painful, I was running as fast as I could and already had 37-44 miles on my legs. A bit of the way down, I really had to go to the bathroom. I weighed my options: A. I could quickly put on the brakes and pull over. Ouch. B. I could pull over, but then the girls I had just passed would catch up. Or C, my most appealing option, just pee my pants. I mean, it was raining after all, and I thought it would only be just a tinkle… Well. At least I was hydrating!

 

What we should have seen at Suntop. PC Seattle Running Club

I was pretty happy to be done with that first climb...

The road started to flatten out and I caught sight of another woman. I don’t know why, but I had kept telling myself that each time I caught someone, I had just gotten 10^th place; I would need to seriously work hard to not let top ten slip… In reality, I had no idea what place I was in. This mindset kept me edging closer to her. We came into the final AS together, and once again, I took off. However, she stayed right behind me. We managed a couple sentences here and there before she gapped me a bit. I switched my ipod until it came to Taylor Swift and put my head down. I had made a goal for myself that I needed to break 9 hours. Suddenly, my head was filled with Swiftian boy rage and calculating exactly what my maximum pace had to be in order to break 9. I caught up to the woman in yellow and passed her. Soon, another woman. Taylor Swift kept lamenting about how she knows places as I wound my way alone through the woods. This last 10km really was a kick in the balls with wet rock, logs, roots, and constant up and down. I had no idea where I was directionally, geographically, and if I was near the finish. The rushing of the White River (it really is white) and the soft crunching of moss and leaves underfoot and the swirling wind and rain in the canopy was peaceful. It was like a metronome consistently pulling me through the never-ending forest.

All business

As the clock ticked on, I grew more and more agitated that I wouldn’t make the cutoff I had set for myself. I made little promises to myself- okay, you can hike ten steps here, you can have oreos when you are done, you can accomplish one of your goals for the day… (Because apparently I was still thinking I wasn’t top ten). Just before the trail emptied out onto the familiar road leading into the campground, I saw another woman. FML. Now I was gonna have to sprint for it. I let it out. I put everything I had into that last half mile, and not an ounce less. I crossed the line at 8:56 in 5^th place (33^rd overall and 3^rd in my 20-29 age group). I was so happy to be done.

The more I think about this race, the more proud I am over how hard I pushed and raced the second half. I passed at least 7 women in the last 20 miles and didn’t let up. I am so fortunate to have met some awesome people at the race- I love new friends! And experience a super tough course with amazing volunteers and atmosphere. Once again, the people in this community make every experience a happy, positive, and humble one! Super grateful for my coach, Meghan, giving me a ton of last minute words of wisdom and getting me to the start AND finish line. I would be still lost in the fog without her (literally and figuratively).

Strava data HERE.

Gear used:

-TNF Stow N Go Bra, BTN shorts/ singlet, visor, arm sleeves

-Stance socks & Pearl Izumi Trail N2

-Garmin 910XT

-Salomon Sense vest

-1 Gu gel every thirty minutes, including on the start line, 3 S! caps, & approx. 10 dixie cups of coke

Gear I wish I used:

-gloves & buff 

Catching Up on a Race, Crew & Adventure Report

Legend... wait for it.... Dary. PC Joe McCladdie

Misty redwoods with Billy Yang PC Joe McCladdie

So life has gotten in the way of writing about the adventures I'm having. (Thankfully not getting in the way of adventures!)  Last I wrote, I had just paced Rory Bosio in a 100 mile race through the Chilean Atacama desert. Not two days back in SLO, I repacked my bag and drove up to Auburn for the Western States training camp weekend. It was a blast to run the last 75 miles of such an amazing course, and with the leisure of three days. The new and old friends I spent time with always make me appreciate our community. I am always, always blown away by the open arms and kindness shown to me by runners. It's like we have this special bond allowing us to feel these familial ties.

Girl Power PC Billy Yang

After being blissfully unaware of reality, I had to put my head down and finish up the school year strong. I had so much makeup work to do and studying for finals that not much else happened... Until finals week itself...

Wednesday of finals week, in June I turned 21. Finally. However, partying downtown and drinking all the beer I wanted did not happen as I had two finals in the following two days. BUT, since I did not have class, my lovely friends- Tera, Jody, and  Brandon- and I went for an epic run in Big Sur. we ran from sea level to 5500' up Cone Peak in a giant, 27 mile loop. We spent the entire day out there enjoying each other's company, the trees, the views, the few creek crossings, and so much more. My heart was so happy; I could not have asked for a better birthday. Tera brought a shot of Fireball whiskey for the top of Cone Peak in a soft flask and I had to take the shot halfway through the run. Gross. After we finished, we enjoyed ciders and the sunset over the ocean. I got a little drunk and ended up dancing along the highway 1 while waiting for Brandon to make his way back. (Long story short: He got lost and finished a couple hours later- he's OK though)

Cone Peak & BFFs 

Poppin' bottles on the side of Hwy 1

Finals wrapped themselves up neatly and pretty soon I found myself driving SLO to Portland with my belongings. This summer, I will be researching Leukemia in the Phil Knight Cancer Inst. at Oregon Health & Science Uni. I am so excited to have received this opportunity to work in a lab with some of the leading minds in cancer research. My world has been blown away by all the amazing resources, toys, and opportunities presented. From here until August 9-5 Monday through Friday, I will be learning and hopefully contributing to the search for finding a cure.

All smiles 1 mile in...

All official & shit.

Miles of Smiles in Forests

Crater Lake in all it's glory

On Fridays, I have been hitting the road and exploring some pretty rad places in Oregon. The first weekend I was here, I ran a 50km race: Mary’s Peak, just outside of Corvallis. It was a beautifully put on event and I met a lot of really cool folks in the area. The race went well for me. I had been tired from all that had been going on in May as well as school/traveling. I didn’t feel too great with headaches, stomach cramps, but I think that took the edge off the pain I was experiencing while running hard. I didn’t know the course, the competition, and had very little expectations other than to just run hard. I took in my fuel every 40 minutes and carried a water bottle. The course started with two miles screaming down a fire road then immediately jumping on a singletrack to run 3000’ up to mile 8, which was situated right on the summit of Mary’s peak. Winding through redwoods and then emerging onto a grassy summit with more wild daisies than one could imagine, I was greeted with gorgeous views 360 degrees of the Cascades and the ocean. There wasn’t much time to appreciate the view and pat myself on the back for summiting, as the race quickly turns downhill and back into the forest. I felt alive and an exhilarating freedom I hadn’t felt in a while. Floating fast over roots on a singletrack, the course went down until around mile 12. It rolled on for quite some time with little blips of ass-kicking steep climbs, which took all of 10 steps.

My new buddy, La Fawnduh

Mile 12 had an aid station, and apparently there was another at mile 17.5, but no; it didn’t come until mile 21. So, I had kinda dug myself into a dehydration hole. It didn’t affect me too much, other than slowing me down a bit. Around mile 23, there was a very steep, mile long hill that was littered with fallen trees. The trees, being at the perfect width and height, could neither be crawled under nor hopped over. So of course, I had to stop in my tracks and heave myself across the logs. At this point in the race, I was passing many of the 25km runners and several guys who had faded back from the 50km. The woman in front of me in the 50km race, Emily, had stayed at the exact same distance the whole time- constantly 7 minutes ahead. At some point in the later miles- around 27- I started to fall apart and knew I wouldn’t catch her. I kept running hard, but the final climb in the open, exposed, hot sun just about killed me. It was really a bitch-slap to the face. But, I survived. I ran 5:02, which tied the previous course record for second female and 8th overall. Emily went on to break her own course record for the win. It was a beautiful long day in the forest and exploring. My Uncle even came out to help volunteer, and it was so great to spend time with him and introduce him to trail ultra events. Strava data HERE.

The Queen & her ladies in waiting PC Tim Fitz

"Bouclair Sandwich!" PC Denise

The next weekend, I actually popped back down to California for a certain party going 100miles Squaw-Auburn. I spent all day Saturday crewing for The Queen- my amazing, fearless, and beautiful coach Meghan Arbogast. Her friend and Pacer #1 Andrea Thorpe remained my buddy for the day. She was calm, cool & collected while I was a nervous Nelly frantic to see Meghan. Maybe I had a little too much energy… Meghan ran sub 24 hours for her NINTH WS100 finish and was so inspiring to watch. I loved, loved, loved being there to see everything and soak in the race and our sport’s history- it was my first start-finish WS100 race experience! I am always taken aback by the incredulous perseverance, determination, and grit displayed by athletes as they put their bodies and minds over the cliff’s edge to test their limits. Rob Krar barely missing the CR on a hot day, Magda in her 100 mi debut, Kaci running so strong the entire day, Gunhild Swanson making the cutoff at SEVENTY years old! (Can I be her when I grow up?), Meghan gutting it out despite thinking she had a broken toe, and seeing ALL my friends! WS100 was certainly a party. Whether they were running, crewing, pacing, or just spectating, I felt like every person in the ultra community I have known & loved was out there! As well as multiple new friends!

South Sister with the other Siblings next door

Lil D recovers from WS100 with South Sister. NBD

This Cali girl hasn't seen snow in a while...

The next two weekends were filled with camping and running adventures. Denise Bourassa and her hubby Ken kindly let me stay at their house in Bend one weekend and took me on a gorgeous tour of South Sister and Green Lakes. Their friend, Scott Wolfe, took me on another tour of the last 20 miles of the Waldo 100k course. Then I camped with Denise and Ken the next weekend up near Timothy Lake by Mt Hood! (Shocked they aren’t tired of me yet) Saturday I spent 35 miles out and back on the PCT. The first and last 9 I got to run with Denise- love that woman- and ate chocolate peanut butter covered oreos at mile 30. (holy goodness I got transported to another world).

35 miles on the PCT does not disappoint.

Sunday, I accidentally found myself at the Columbia River Gorge and went for an out and back run up to Larch Mountain. It was super steep on the way up, so I took my time enjoying the trees and gorgeous waterfalls. Coming back down I was relieved to be moving a bit faster over the technical terrain as I was running out of daylight and unprepared for the dark. I came around a corner and stopped dead in my tracks. Leaning up against a Redwood tree, I put my arm around it in an almost embrace. I was about 3000’ above the River and could see the sunset through the green, lush trees. The last rays of golden sunlight emanated off the green branches as the clouds slowly brightened to deeper pinks and purples. The forest was still and a bird call could be heard somewhere below me. A stream trickled nearby over some rocks. It was an emotional moment and a fabulous end to the weekend.

 

OH SO GREEN 

Why run 5 miles to finish Waldo when you can stay here?

The Atacama Pacer Report

On Tuesday, May 12, I arrived in San Pedro de Atacama in Chile. It is a small town, ruled by dogs, and in a desert north of chile and west of the Andes. With vistas of glorious volcanoes, my heart was happy for the opportunity to explore. If anybody was wondering where or why or what I was doing, it was to pace Rory Bosio in a 100 mile extreme desert race.

Just your average sunrise

Night before the race we were getting everything all set out and ready. Rory and I had gone over our game plan several times and talked about the race. Of course over our ritual nail polish sesh. We went over what would be in each bag, how she wants her nutrition laid out and at what points and where it would be put in her glorious polka dot pack. We settled in for a relaxing slumber and turned out the lights.

This was a common scene at each Checkpoint

At around 3 am I wake up to hear Rory screaming get out get out!!! Apparently the hotel cat had climbed through the window, pounced on her and tried to get into her covers. I also learned that while I was sleeping she was puking her brains out from nausea. Possibly last nights salmon dinner was the culprit... 

At 630 we wake up, breakfast is made and coffee drained. We put on our kits and lug all the bags and shit out the the cars. 

We get to the start and Rory and I find a nice spot by the local church to pee, per my pre race tradition. The start was super mellow in the town square of San Pedro de Atacama as there were only 40 racers total braving the desert. Rory sets off setting the pace. It was so rad to trail alongside her watching the kilometers pass by and cheering them on. Before the first checkpoint at km 20ish, Rory was passed by Mattias. 

low key start

We got to the first checkpoint, aka aid stations with water, coke, Gatorade, chips and granola bars. Maybe some other things but not much. Rory came screaming in and out looking amazing. I did my job as crew and set out food, took warm outer wear, and filled her bladder.

We spend some more time following and met her again at CP2. This was 40k in the race and pretty freaking hot. Rory rolled in there in 3:40ish with another dude and they charged out to what was considered the roughest part of the course along the salt flats.

I have no idea what we were laughing at. (Not my pic)

We couldn't follow the runners along the salt flats as cars couldn't go on the squishy, crusty, crackled terrain. However, after a long time of waiting at CP3, 60k in the race, Rory finally came out in the lead with nobody near. I fixed her things per usual, but jumped in too. I was supposed to pace her the whole entire last 100k. This would severely test my limits because I have to put on a good face as pacer and I do not allow myself to start feeling crappy when I need to be the one entertaining and keeping my runner positive. I have paced several times before, never that distance and I am not the best heat runner. Additionally, on top of that, this desert race, which is all monotonously flat, is also situated at a nice 8200'. I live at sea level. Nevertheless, I am stoked. 

NaCl for miles!

So we start running. It's fun and nice and were having great boy talk and girl gossip. I'm telling her my wildest and craziest stories and also getting some from her. At about 4 miles in we come upon two freshwater mini lakes. Of course she jumps right in and I don't blame her with the insane heat!! (It was then 330pm). We continue on a dirt road for the rest of that segment. We were both in good spirits and moving at a pretty good clip -930-1030 min per mile. Rory was still emptying herself from last night but doing great. I was fine until I started to feel a stomach cramp at mi 8. I just grinned and bared it and thought maybe I should just try to pee or poop it out. Or take electrolytes. So I popped a squat to no avail while Rory kept running. I sped up to try to catch her, still with the stomach ache. All of a sudden I found myself hands on knees puking several times. I felt like shit. I was dizzy, goosebumps and still with a stomach ache. I tried to catch back up to her and eventually caught up a bit. I was about 10-15m behind her and stayed like that for quite a while. In the next 2 mi I puked about 5 more times and she said I was having altitude sickness but we have to stay together due to race regulations. I felt terrible. I came to Chile, across the freaking equator, to pace my friend and take care of her but the roles reversed. She became the one cheering me on and telling me I need to keep swinging my arms. I felt so bad I was holding her back. She is an amazing athlete but an even more incredible friend for dealing with me with a smile. It was maybe the longest feeling 5k to the next CP. The thing was you could see it but not get any closer- like a mirage in the desert heat.

classic.

I was so dizzy I thought I was gonna pass out when we got there. Rory got her pack re situated and took off. I was gonna take a breather, take care of myself, and get ready to go again. I really didn't want to let her down and want to be there for her in the tough parts. We hugged as she charged off down the dirt road. I sat down for a bit trying to keep it together despite wanting to both cry and puke. I felt like a pansy for not being able to handle 15 miles and she was at 50miles.

Anyways, I curled up in a ball in the car and kept sipping coke. One of the guys I was with went and got me little candies infused with the local Coca leaves. This helps with digestion and altitude sickness so I was popping these things in left and right. I managed a picky bar and banana too as I hadn't had calories in 4 hours or so.

RB making dirty jokes early in the race

We went out to get to CP5 to meet Rory at 100k. The sun was setting and the landscape was magnificent. We had to drive on these super sketch salt flats following tire tracks for direction. Big kudos to our driver for navigating that. Once at cp5 which was the 108km mark, we saw the stars come out and waited for Rory. Sure enough, she was first and rolling in. We got her stuff situated with warm clothing and food. She didn't want me to pace her yet, and I feel really really bad. I feel like such a let down for her and a total loser.

But, I will continue to do my best to help her in any way I can. She was rocking and rolling this thing. However, as we headed out to CP6 to meet her, we looked back to see her headlamp circling. Worried she was lost out there, we stopped for a bit. A truck drove out to meet her and give her direction so we took off. Later I found out she got off course for around 2 hours and the truck driver had no idea where the course was. The race director had to drive out and guide them back to the dirt road. When Rory finally got to CP6 her lead had greatly shortened and she had put a lot more stressful miles in between checkpoints. Before she came, I was told I was supposed to be taken back to the hotel to rest. I said oh hell effing no. And just like that, any residual inkling of sickiness vanished. Rory came in and I got her stuff per usual. However, now she wanted me to take her into the finish for the last "30km".

Found her doppleganger in the town's TNF store

I was super jazzed to be back with her and guiding her through the last bits. She told me "silence is golden" as she was too brain dead to follow any stories. Instead I kept her on pace per her request and reminded her every little bit to eat or drink. Once off the road we wound on some sandy or hard cracked terrain. It was pretty crazy.

This section was the worst. The flags  directing us were spaced so far apart that it was a struggle to find them. Our headlamps- my Petzl RXP and her NAO and an additional small light still wasn't bright enough to look that far ahead. Additionally, the reflective tape on the flag was maybe a square centimeter- again, super hard to find in the dark. Some flags had fallen over and I stopped to pick them up and place them upright several times. It was a wicked game of I Spy. But we pressed on and I found flags for her. Christian, the RD, even came out to help guide us. We found our bearings and eventually figured it out to Valle de la Luna. This would've been amazing in the daylight.

View from top of a sand dune

We wound around super cool clay-like boulders and hills. She was pushing hard at this point and very spent mentally- due to the flat course, it was a ton more runnable terrain, which is not what she was used to for 100 miles. We were still hitting 10-11 min pace. She was crushing it and I was so grateful to witness such amazing athleticism and endurance. 

Valle de Luna off to the left

She threw a couple jokes in here and there: "do you want a jolly rancher?" (As I was opening the candy) "then go eff a farmer". And there was more. We finally come upon this tunnel and it was about 400-600m long. Very cool to run through and the final CP was on the other side. Homestretch baby!!

yummy pisco sour!

She grabbed some chips, enough coke to last the 10km to finish and we jet off. There was a rocky, technical downhill here to the dirt road from Pukkar de Quittor into town. I had run this the other day exploring so I knew the rest of the way well. This seemed to put her mind at ease. However, downhill after probably already 100 miles of running hurt a lot. But she is so freaking tough, she pushed through it. We had to cross a couple rivers along the way through that park on the dirt road. The RD said there was two but we crossed maybe four. At this point we were pushing hard and I was playing some of her favorite tunes out loud for added motivation. We had to cross one more big river right outside the town and we opted to use the ratty pedestrian bridge. Heading into town we lost the flags but I knew the way to the town square where she had started. When we turned the corner and the banner was in sight, she went for it. God I was so excited for her to finish! She broke the tape as the first ever finisher of the Atacama Xtreme 100miler in just after 20 hours. She had bested the men and women in the field on terrain and with conditions she is not accustomed to, which makes it even more amazing. I am in such awe and so incredulous I got to be there with her and contribute in a small way to her success.

I really look up to Rory and value her friendship so much. I learned so much and look forward to many more adventures with her. We had a great time in the desert and it was such an epic trip. I really cannot express or put into words how amazed I am that I had an opportunity to visit, explore and run in South America- a place below the equator and where I had never been before. Despite stress from taking off 1,5 weeks of school in the middle of a hard quarter, it was 110% worth it (at least that's what I keep repeating to myself!). I have no regrets and I would rather receive bad grades making up midterms than trade my experiences in a new and foreign country. I made some lasting friendships and learned things I definitely would not have learnt in a classroom in California. I guess I truly take the motto Never Stop Exploring to heart. As well as my own personal mantra of seize every opportunity and make things happen when following goals, dreams and ideas.