I took a chance and went ahead and ran Cascade Crest 100 in Washington state. Mentally I pepared myself for a DNF. I would be fine with that. All I wanted to do was run a few miles in the Washington mountains. I would not be fine with setting back my recovery from my fractured leg. It had been six months of healing. The day before I hiked a little in a small canyon down to Puget Sound. The leg pain was bad. I was discouraged and worried that I was doing the wrong thing.
I camped for the night at Lake Kachese, very pleasant and convinced myself that I would be OK attempting the race.
It was so great to be at the start line again. There were so many kind friends who greeted me and lifted my spirits. I took it very easy and did not push it. There is a massive initial climb and at the top I took video of a large group passing me at the top. I was just having a good time. The leg pain was minor, but on the descent, it wasn't good, so I took out the trekking poles. Depending on the pace or the steepness, I used one or both poles for many miles.
At mile 11, I was in 126th place out of 144 starters. Talk about "back of the pack!" At mile 15 I overheard the aid station volunteers mention that there were only 16 more runners to come through. I was shocked! I am instead used to being in 15th place overall at that point. Wow, I was going seriously slow. I tried to work on my pace, but made very little progress passing people.
At about mile 18, two very kind runners, one from Vancover and the other from Boston, ran a couple miles with me. We talked and talked. This is something I rarely do in races because I'm so out of breath. It was great fun and they totally took my mind off the leg pain. It seemed to magically go down. Other pains were worse.
At mile 34, Stampede Pass aid station, the only drop bags laid out were for those runners who were still coming. There were only about 8 bags in the pile. That got my attention. I was only 1.5 hours ahead of the cutoff. (There were actually 23 runners behind me, but only 5 of those would go on to finish.)
I decided that if I had any hope to finish, that I needed to try picking up the pace. The trekking poles were put away and I truly ran. I was shocked that within two miles all the leg pain was gone. My theory is that the fracture is indeed healed and the remaining pain is from soft tissue, getting used to the callus bumps that have grown around the bone. I think my body just remembered that I run crazy distances and decided to just live with it.
Over the next 18 miles it felt like I was flying. (My pace for that section was about the same as last year when I was healthy). I passed 20-25 runners and came into Hyak in 86th place. The run through the tunnel was crazy fun. I must of been running at about a 9:00 pace for those two miles, coming up on runners in the dark and blasting by them. I was in high spirits at Hyak. Buddy, Karl Jensen from Canada was there and we left together. He was starting to struggle and would indeed DNF at mile 68.
The night continued to go well. When I reached the "trail from hell" that goes by Kachese Lake, I was stunned that I was still running. The day before I checked out the early portion of the trail because I doubted I would make it that far. I ran that crazy rugged "trail" in record time for me, passing another bunch of runners, arriving at the next aid station in 69th place. I was only 1:10 behind my pace for last year and if things continued well, I would finish in about 28:30.
However, during the next massive climb, I ran out of gas. I could indeed detect that due to my lack of training, that I just couldn't push it hard. But with my experience, I knew what to do in order to continue. I took some key rests, and continued to eat pretty well. The "cardiac needles" were brutal. These are 6-7 steep climbs during a 7-mile stretch. Each climbs up and over a ridge and half of them don't use switch-backs. On one of them I yelled out to the trail that it was "nasty." The runners ahead heard me.
With about 12 miles to go, I felt some sharp pain in my leg near the fracture line. I knew I could easily break 30 hours, but it wasn't worth it. I shut down the pace for good, took Ibuprofen, and the pain soon dissappeared, but I continued to go pretty slowly. I had plenty of time, about 2.5 hours ahead of the cutoff.
The final miles includes a massive descent. I got my feet wet and with all the braking I was doing, developed some fore-foot blisters. Other than that, the Hoka Stinson Evos performed flawlessly.
At the bottom of the canyon, with 3.6 miles to go back to town, it was hot, approaching 80. I was pretty delirious. Ben Blessing was doing the aid station. They gave me a popcicle that started to bring me back to life, but I didn't answer their questions right. They asked if I needed my cammelback filled. I said no. But less than a half mile later, I discovered that I was almost totally out. This was bad. I knew I couldn't finish without more. I decided to leave the course and hike to the stream nearby. This was an emergency so I didn't worry about non-filtered water. I soaked my shirt in the cool water and used a paper towel the rest of the way to cool my face and neck. I also drank like crazy. I avoided heat stroke and started to feel fine again.
The finish line came into view and Charlie the race director said some nice things about me over the loud speaker as I finished. He handed me the buckle. This one seemed extra special. I really didn't think I would finish, but there it was in my hand. It probably is valued as much as that very first one. Five months ago I feared that I would never run again, and for sure never finish 100 miles again. But there I was at the finish line. I'm glad that I didn't burst out in tears. All I could think about was getting into the air-conditioned car.
Victory!!! I finished my 49th career 100-miler and continued my streak of 31 finishes without a DNF. | 