TRT Weekend
The night before the race, as we sat around finishing dinner and prepping for the day ahead, counting out salt tabs and calculating splits, Amy, feeling pain just walking from the car, decided she wouldn't start. Despite her game face, it was a somber beginning. Her first 50 miler put on hold. I said a small thanks to the goddesses - and PTs and chiropractors and podiatrists and coaches and friends - of good fortune and strength that delivered me to another starting line and slipped away into bed.
The 100 mile runners were out the door at 3:45am and the 50m/50k runners an hour later. (Somehow, when romanticizing the idea of signing up for an endurance-type event you never remember the crazy early morning hours. Right?) Ken, Kevin, Yariv and I rolled out in the dark cruising along the eastern shores of Lake Tahoe to the start at Spooner Junction. The vibe was all trail runner - relaxed, familial and friendly. The volunteers were decked out in robes and curlers ushering us from registration to drop bags to the starting line. Victoria was there to pace her b-friend Bryan so we caught up at the start and swore again that we'd meet for a run together sometime soon. (This time, Victoria! This will be the time!) Zach Landman and his fiance Geri were there conducting a research project for UCSF so we were all measured for blood pressure and weight. Me: But I haven't been to the bathroom yet! Geri: That's ok it's not exact. Me: But it should be close, right? Geri: Step on the scale please.
I was, um, not at my "ideal" running weight. To be fair, I haven't been at my ideal running weight since I was 15 but I have a secondary "lifestyle-choices" ideal weight that I was egregiously off of as well which left me feeling Jabba the Hutt-like as I lumbered around the starting area. Undone again by a number on a scale. Agh.
And so the race began, me and my extra weight, Ken dashing off ahead, Yariv taking it slowly behind, Kevin running alongside me to chat for a few minutes before dialing into his steady, quicker pace and Jorge, who'd come up the night before, fresh off the TRT waiting list bounding immediately out of sight on his unflagging energy and endless smile. Like that I was alone with my thoughts, with my hopes for the day ahead.
People ask what you think about for 6, 7, 12 hours when you race. Honestly, I'm never sure. You have passing conversations with people - where they're from, what distance they're doing; how they're feeling; you talk about the weather, the course, the views; you offer to take someone's picture, you take your own; you get complimented on your skirt, your skin, your pace; you compliment others on their strength, their legs, their enthusiasm; you check in with your body - with your legs, your back, your hips; you check in with your head - with your clarity, commitment, and enjoyment; you wonder about your friends behind and shout excitedly when you cross paths with those ahead; you take a salt tab every 30 minutes and drink a bottle of fluid every hour; you think about whether you'll be able to paddle tomorrow; you think halfway there, only 10 miles to go, it's all downhill from here; and then it really is the last 7 miles and you think fast feet, final surge, keep drinking, push hard, pass that girl ahead and don't look back; then - how is 7 miles taking so long? why is it going uphill again? i'd kill for a Slurpee; where is the freaking finish and finally... yes! There it is. Smile.
Ken and Amy
I came into the finishers chute to the cheers of our extended Endurables clan: Amy and her husband, Lane; Marla, waiting to pace Larissa in the 100m; Joel waiting to pace Brett in the 100m and Randy just hanging out in support. I finished some 40 minutes faster than 2009 and with the race experience I'd gone in wanting to have. Where I'd suffered last year, I surged through this year. Nutrition, fluids, sodium, endurance - it all came together beautifully. Bonus round? I left 10lbs out on that 34 mile course. And though I suspect it returned in the form of beer and pizza later that night, that moment on the scale post-race was icing on the cupcake.
Brett finishing first 50 mile loop
Yariv finishing his first TRT 50k
Ken getting BP taken after his 2nd TRT 50k finish
Brett came sailing through the checkpoint some 30 minutes after me on his first 50 mile loop in the top five. He looked lively and upbeat as always and moved out quickly with Joel at his side. Another 15 minutes and Ken finished up his 50k followed soon by Yariv, then Jorge an hour or so later at just under 10 hours in the 50m and Kevin a few hours later doing the same 50m with Ben, Amy's original pacer, pacing him through the last 20 miles. We shouted for one another, for other runners, for runners finishing strong, barely finishing, finishing with their kids by their sides. We drank beer and ate burritos. Ken was happy to PR, Yariv happy to finish. Jorge happy to go sub-10. Kevin happy just because that's how Kevin rolls. (Pics: Jorge finishing 50m above, Ben and Kevin finishing 50m below)
We made friends with the guy sporting the 12-pack of Bud Light Limes for his still-running wife; with our neighboring peeps soaking their feet in buckets of cold water; with the family waiting for their Dad to finish. Rick Gaston appeared on the scene as part of his friend's crew and wasted no time helping runners, saying hi, snapping pictures and generally engaging in the art of Rick being Rick: Man on the trail running scene.
The 50k crew - Ken, Yariv and me. Pic from Rick Gaston.
Victor Ballesteros, another house guest and friend of Brett and Larissa's, pulled out of the 100m after the first 50m loop - his body not responding as he'd hoped. Weeks after finishing the Western States 100 it was amazing he had the determination to try. But Victor, like Brett and Larissa, is a million miles of trails beyond my current ability so back-to-back hundies? What do I know?Word started circulating that Larissa was dropping. The tendinitis had returned and she was suffering. With mixed reports coming in we weren't sure what was happening but it became clear she'd dropped and was walking the final miles to get back to the 50m checkpoint. Her first 100 would have to wait. And Marla, her pacer, would have to wait.
By then, Ken, Yariv, Victor and I were driving alongside Lake Tahoe in Ken's convertible heading home; the top down, the wind racing about, 4 dirty and tired faces tilted towards the sun, reliving our own memories of the day.
In the end, Brett would finish 2 hours faster than last year and take 2nd place overall in the 100m. Larissa would walk her way into the 50 mile mark and tearfully call it a day. 12 runners - some DNFs, a DNS (did not start), a first-timer, a few PRs, a top 2 finish, some middle-of-the-pack finishes, a pacer on loan. It ran the gamut of experiences any single racer running long enough could have. You live, you learn and you go on to race another day.Oh, and we saw a bear just outside our rental house in Tahoe Donner. Lumbering along maybe 4 feet from the deck without any concern for the 7 hysterical humans running around with cameras and cel phones. Awesome.
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