Couch to 100km. #NeverStopSmiling

Shuffle run. 3 minutes. Walk. 1 minute. Shuffle again. Finally I reach a bench. I sit down and glare at the glistening Lake and watch the moon & street lamp cast shadows along the path. It's a beautiful, warm night and I'm finally able to somewhat run after 2.5 weeks confined to the couch. Yet, I can't appreciate the serenity and stillness of 10:48 pm. Instead, many self- deprecating thoughts encircle my mind. Why did you move here? You don't have any friends here. 2.5 weeks on the couch has made you fat. Why can't you actually get through a training cycle? You're dumb enough to have hopes of fulfilling your goals this year? Who are you kidding, this sucks. Running is stupid.

Warning. Melted crayons in mountains may not be potable.

I stood up and started the trot back. Why am I thinking this? Champions don't sell themselves short. People that go after their dreams have to start somewhere. Don't freaking feel sorry for yourself; that's what losers do. Failing is on the road to success. It felt as though both sides of the coin were sitting on my shoulders, tearing my consciousness apart. It was an endless cycle of feeling lazy, then guilty, then motivated, then apathetic.

1 month later I stood on the start line of the Waldo 100k. I honestly had no idea what to expect. I originally entered the lottery with pie in the sky dreams of winning the race. I actually imagined crossing the line, what I would do with my arms, and hugging Meghan triumphantly. When I stood next to friends in the darkness, I wondered if I would even be able to finish.

Pre race done right.

With two weeks of knowing I would definitely race, Meghan gave me all sorts of tips and I prepared myself mentally for a long battle. She instructed me to run the first half with my HRM and take it easy. Since I haven't worn one of those chafe-traps in forever- let alone longer than 6 miles, I was apprehensive about following it for 30 miles. Nevertheless, I lubed up and chugged up the first climb.

Loping along the singletrack in the early, pink light, I felt free and happy. It was as though I was a doe bounding through the woods (my spirit animal), and again, I let myself imagine what it would be like to bound along the final three Rosary lakes feeling like this.

My friends are amazing.

I made it up to Fuji Mtn and saw a glorious audience of mountains and felt even more rejuvenation. Meghan was at the top and greeted me with a big smile & I forget who I knuckle punched, but it was awesome. Coming back down, I was smiling and dancing, seeing all my friends in the race. It was pretty fantastic. Soon, I caught up with Andrea Thorpe (she witnessed a fun bush sesh- sorry again!) and Ken Sinclair right as we entered the Mt Ray aid station. Despite being in that ideal HR range, I was feeling pretty jazzed up, especially listening to the Chicago Broadway soundtrack and I bolted out of there. I was pretty much alone the rest of the way; I would catch up to some guys, hang with them for 100-400m or so, then be on my merry way.

Chloe. Sorry boys she's taken.

I knew I was in second place at this point, and couldn't understand how; I was just waiting for hordes of people to pass me. All morning I was sticking to my tried and true (thanks stephanie) plan of 1 gel every 20-30 minutes. I even had a watch beep just for the occasion. All of a sudden, my stomach decided it was joining the Olympic diving team, and started doing triple backflips. Long story short, from miles 27 to 41 I was puking. Nothing I could eat or drink could stay down. Now, I blame myself for all my alpine excursions, drinking from alpine streams and lakes unfiltered and eating questionable chicken the friday before. I don't blame the heat, because I never actually felt hot during the day. (I'm sure I looked REAL hot puke-running though. Boys on the course, if you didn't get my number, leave a comment below).

Before. PC LongRun

After. Sums up the day quite nicely. PC LongRun

In my mind, I thought of how badass Rory Bosio was with severe food poisoning during BOTH the Atacama Xtreme 100 & Lavaredo Ultra. I tried to channel her and do things with a smile. Because hey, if you're smiling, then things are alright. And, I reasoned that I was coherent (still singing T swift) and able to keep running, so I did.

Couch snuggles with Riley!

To be honest, I wasn't really paying attention to my surroundings- sure they were beautiful, but I was just watching the miles tick by and rationing out what food I could stomach over time. I kept imagining Stephanie rolling her eyes at my pathetic attempt at getting in calories. The one solid thing I remember in that stretch were the aid stations. Coming into Charleton lake, I was greeted by a raucous party. I saw many loving friends and back flopped into the glimmering waters (damn I wish it would float me away in a current). The same applied to the others- wonderful people treating me so well before kicking my butt back into the forest.

I kept running. I didn't know how it was possible and I was still incredulous that I was doing this, and doing this in second place. There MUST have been a fire breathing dragon blocking the trail from Andrea and the others... I watched my watch tick past 50 miles, the longest I've run since White River 50 mile, a whole year plus before. At this point, my body was starting to cramp up from dehydration & lack of calories. But nothing was stopping me. I KNEW it was possible to get to the finish line. I reasoned with the same logic as before; just keep moving and doing what you can with what you've got. I plastered a smile over my grimace- because smiles can do anything. (Must've looked like SUCH a lunatic). Soon enough, I came to the Maiden Peak aid station, where I had volunteered last year. They gave me a popsicle and cheered me up to the summit. I knew these last 12 miles- Monkeyboy took me on a bonkalicious death march the summer prior. It was just 3 more miles of up and then down.

Best Friends! At Trampled By Turtles

Up at the summit, the cramping turned to pain. I was embraced by Kim at the top and I almost started crying in her arms. But she pushed me away down the mountain before any tears fell. Like I told myself a month ago on the park bench, I would not cry. I have come so far and gone through too much in the last year that the crying was over. I was chasing AND getting my dreams, so I had to smile.

I love the Queen! PC LongRun

I smile-grimaced, laugh-shouted through utter anguish on the leap of faith. Woof, man. That just did me in. The rest of the way was all downhill, unlike how I remembered it from my run with MB. My knees felt like someone was unscrewing them with a dull knife. My calf & feet felt like they were being incinerated. Yet, I kept moving. I knew if I stopped, it needed to be at the finish line. I kept calculating and recalculating the time left and wondered if I'd ever get to the side path from the PCT.

LB getting his WS qualifier PC LongRun Pic Co

I was running like a baby cow with three legs taking it's first steps, but I realized I was going to finish. And I let myself acknowledge that I'd get second place. I immediately, in classic fashion, fell down and started sobbing. I had withheld so much and gutted through so much pain to get to the finish that it finally came flooding out. It was quite an embarrassing scene as the ski patrol medics carted me off in a wheelchair (totally unnecessary- I was broken but I could've probs just shuffled).

Chloe get er done. PC Golden Mama Elke

I feel so so fortunate to finish this race surrounded by so many integral members of my friend group. Meghan- basically my more-than-running-life-coach, was the RD and got me to BOTH lines; she also has introduced me to her friend group, which basically hunted on a saturday in oregon rather than a tuesday in auburn. There were really too many people to name that were amplifying the stokage that weekend. I will say, I really owe a lot of my mental strength to my beautiful friend Chloe Romero, who was a certifiable badass finishing the race; she sent me flowers with a note saying "Stay gritty" during a pretty bleak period. Stephanie Howe is always such an inspiration & best friend, and just by sending a text saying "you can do anything you set your heart & mind to" really stuck with me, hard. And then I got to go to a concert with her & Zach in Bend and wake up with ocean rolls on her birthday!!! (Felt like more of a present to me than it probs did to her, ha!) Thank you to my super rad sponsors for supporting me with all the miles (The North Face, Julbo USA, Sisu Girls, Victory Sportsdesign). Additionally, all the various people back at home that believe in me, I'm truly grateful. Sometimes it's hard to believe in myself, but having such a lovely community, really makes me smile. And that's all I need.

Next up.

The Long, Long Trail

The proposal.

Over my winter break in December, Mary had asked me if I wanted to join her on a 270, 11 day fast packing trip across the length of Vermont on The Long Trail. I naively agreed.

The Views!!

I had not done much research and just assumed it would be a cool training trip for CCC in terms of testing nutrition, time on my feet and having a pack on. I would use every piece of gear I needed for CCC. I had been to Vermont twice before to pace her and a friend in the VT100 mile race. I thought, it's just hiking, how hard could it be?

Starting the journey

Being 20 years old, training harder than I ever had, I was thinking I could pretty much do anything; 270 miles in 11 days would not be a problem. I did not think much about the trip until I finished school mid June and all of a sudden I was to fly out in 6 days. Mary had been texting me all week telling me everything I should and probably needed.  Hmm, the list was more extensive than I thought, which led to many last minute trips to REI and SFRC. Even to Jorge's doorstep a half hour before I was to leave to borrow a sleeping pad!

I flew to Vermont Saturday night on a red-eye, planning to have most of Sunday to relax and get ready for the trek. Unfortunately, due to a United fiasco I was delayed and spent all of Sunday in the Newark airport. I arrived in Vermont at midnight. Obviously I was not going to start at the Canadian border with Mary at 6 am the next morning, so I would meet her later in the evening.

Climbing up a ladder in Devil's Gulch

One of the shelter's we slept in!

I arrived on the trail to meet Mary for the last 5 miles of the night. I had my borrowed pack all set to go and ate a quick on the go dinner before we set off. My energy was high and my excitement uncontrollable (despite carrying a 30lb pack!) I hopped and skipped and pranced through the gorgeous greenery and chatting wildly with enthusiasm. Mary had already done 18 miles so she was not as keen to be jumping about.  That evening I had my first taste of what was to come. We hiked two miles an hour, impossibly slow compared to even a tired day while running. We climbed up steep hills with no switchbacks and hiked down equally steep descents.  We arrived to the shelter we were to camp at and quickly set up our sleeping bags. We wanted to get as much shut eye as possible before a long, big day.  The shelters are scattered along the trail and often have fantastic views of the landscape you ordinarily cannot see through the dense forest. A trickling brook nearby supplied our water for the next day.

Stuck between a rock and a hard place

Yup.

Going to sleep was very interesting that night. We heard little mice crawling about and had to rearrange and hang our food several times. Mary and I ended up sharing a bunk to quell our nighttime fears.  Before shutting my eyes I caught sight of a flashing light in the corner of the cabin. I frantically told mary that I was going crazy already and was scared. Turns, out, I had just seen my first firefly. I had a restless night and was woken up around 3 am by two hikers coming in for the night.

Sun, Sun, Mr. Golden Sun

GREEN!

In the morning we awoke to a gorgeous sunrise, ate a quick breakfast and were on our way! The best idea I had was to put my instant espresso into a Salomon soft flask and slowly sip all day; it was wonderfully welcomed. The hours go by so slowly but also so fast it is incredible. Every time we got to a shelter we stopped to consult the map and eat a quick snack. We hiked through several different types of forests. We would be traipsing through ferns up to our waists and sloshing through some thick mud. It was unclear whether the mud was thick enough to support our weight or if we would sink down into it.  The trees changed from aspens to birch to everything in between.  We climbed several steep uphills and struggled down the descents, 1000' per mile sometimes for 3 or more miles. It was tricky because a lot of the trail seemed to not be a trail at all; the only way it seemed to exist was purely by the hikers coming through. The trail was never smooth or easy. It was always hopping over the mud, balancing on the logs that were sometimes laid down, or literally rock climbing up or lowering yourself down. I felt like it was a game of the ultimate trust fall every time we descended as we had to grab ahold of the rocks, roots and trees to go down or pull yourself up.  Devil's Gulch was kind of crazy. We had to climb up a ladder, go "bouldering", and walk across slick, treacherous wet rock. I am more surprised than proud that I did not take any tumbles that day. After 10 hours of hiking, we met Mary's husband Mark at the road crossing.  He took our packs, refilled our water bottles and fed our ravenous stomachs with some food.  I ate some salami, Fritos chips, french fries and maybe something else. It was incredibly delicious.  We would then hike the next 6 miles without our packs and only water bottles to meet him again.

Starting again at Sunset.

Peaked.

Mary taking it all in

Mary's feet were killing her and starting to blister; ours both had been wet all day, so I'm sure mine were starting to blister as well.  At that road crossing, I felt fine and eager to continue into the night. However, as soon as we started, I started to feel the fatigue and weight of the previous 10 hours. I wandered like a zombie behind Mary. I felt as though I had tunnel vision, only seeing where her feet meandered around the trail.  I felt somewhere between drunk and sleepwalking. I wasn't very talkative and my feet started to really kill me. They were so sore and tired! I stumbled along the trail not caring if I stepped in mud or hit a brach with my arm. After 12 hours and 47 minutes we reached mark again at the next road crossing. He picked us up and took us back to their camp, as we were very close by, for the night. I don't even remember falling asleep.

Top of the World

The next morning we awoke to a classic Vermont downpour. We gathered a light pack of just necessary food and water as we would see Mark again that evening, We started hiking up the road and soon came to a river crossing. Knowing we would get our feet wet all day we just hiked through it, not caring. the trail continued up and up, we soon found ourselves bushwacking up a flowing river. We did not doubt it was the trail as the trail was ridiculously crazy, but we did not see the white vertical rectangles painted on trees along the way for quite some time.  We were soon frantic and turned around. We found the trail again and saw where we had made a wrong turn. However, we lost an hour and a half and added 3ish miles of hiking! It was so disheartening and just added mental discomfort to the bleary day.  The trail of course, wasn't any different from what we had been doing off trail, but it was harder.  We hiked up and down waterfalls. The rocks were wet and water oftentimes flowed over them in small rivers.  It was tough, even with a light pack, to haul yourself up and over the obstacles.  Going down was even worse as it was uncertain every time you put your body weight down over one foot if it would be supported or slip out from under you. We were also paranoid looking for the white blazes indicating we were not lost.  You would start to wonder, "has it been too long? where could we have gotten off course? We are definitely lost!", but then moments later one would appear.  The previous day was filled with talking and stories and occasionally singing. Today, there was nothing. We hiked in near silence, concentrating on our footing and finding the trail, but I think it was also due to exhaustion.  Hours came and went. The rain continued on. A small respite from the unforgiving trail was a short hike up a downhill ski run. Haha! that is a break!  Mary accurately described the trail as "The trail that keeps on giving!"Soon (9 hours later), we met Mark on the road. We were tired, wet, hungry and mentally drained. We decided that after 18 miles in the pouring rain and over that crazy, course, we were done. We would not attempt to ascend and descend the highest peak in Vermont: Mt Mansfield, which loomed before us through the fog.  We went home to a welcomed hot shower and food and rest.

I would not continue with Mary the next day as my feet were killing me and I was so exhausted. I did not want to push myself over the edge before CCC. Mary had a tough day climbing Mt Mansfield in the clouds and crazy rocks at the top. I soon joined her the next evening. I even took a shakeout run on Thursday up the mountain behind Lake Elmore. Thursday night we had some pizza and then hiked straight up a ski mountain, of course not on the groomed open downhill, but on the technical side trail. We had to climb ladders drilled into the rock faces because it was so steep.  We finally reached Stark's nest, a warming hut, on top of Mad River Glen ski slope. We woke up to another lovely sunrise and went on our way. This time, our day was cheerfully welcomed.  It is hard to describe in more detail the days and the trail, but it was more hours and hours. I soon grew weary and my feet started to hurt.  The hours and miles dragged by and we began to feel desperate; where was this shelter we were staying at? We eventually reached it, ate, and fell fast asleep, sorta. At Skyline Lodge, there were several other hikers, both for the night and through hikers, so it was a tight squeeze and not much sleep amongst the snorers.  In the morning we packed up quickly and started hiking. Mark would meet us 5.5 miles at the next road crossing and I would end my journey and he would hike with Mary for the rest of the day and night. Mary ended her journey the next day because her quad and knees were killing her.  The words I have for describing this trail and adventure are as follows: deceptive, rugged, rural, relentless, beautiful, degrading, giving, green, fun, technical, and interesting.

Done.

And Done.

It's hard to think that you couldn't finish something. It's much easier to mentally make yourself feel better about losing in a race. Okay, maybe I didn't have their experience, didn't know the course, didn't put the miles they did. But to lose to a trail is a whole other story. It's a bit disappointing knowing you didn't have it in you to complete a goal or to even keep up with Mary. It is incredibly humbling to have to stop because your body just cannot handle the terrain and the long hours. Even though I am 20, I have a long way to go; I am not indestructible nor immortal.

chicken nuggets anyone?

This past week, after TLT, I have resumed running and enjoyed Vermont with Mary and her family. We went to Shelburne farms, hung out by the lake, and I even raced a 5:50 mile road race in Montpelier an hour after eating at Ben & Jerry's (very lactose intolerant...)

5:50 ain't too shabby!

Big thanks to Mary & her amazing family for inviting and taking care of me on this awesome adventure. Also thanks to my family for supporting me in my crazy ideas of fun... Onwards to CCC!

Ben & Jerry's! Just had to indulge... 

The destruction.

In terms of gear used: S-Lab light jacket, Salomon Bonatti Jacket, Sense Ultra SG, 2XU calf sleeves, TNF Better than Naked Shorts, Tech T shirts, Arcteryx pack, Marmut sleeping bag, S-Lab 12 set pack, Black Diamond Z poles, Mammoth & NuGo bars, Tailwind, SFRC buff, WS100 visor, Black Diamond Headlamp, Injinji socks, Salomon long sleeve.