Waldo 100km

  The Waldo 100km webpage contains the following warning,

"It is not a beginner-level ultra and participation in the race should not be taken lightly."
  
Since I started contemplating ultra's, I've wanted to run Waldo.  I've also been extremely intimidated by Waldo.  I knew that running this race would be a totally different experience.  Although I was still recovering from my knee injury, I signed up this spring thinking that my running last year had been so great, that by August I should be in great shape to finally tackle Waldo.  At the time, I had no clue that my training this summer would be detoured a bit by planning both a big move and a wedding.  A few weeks before the race, despite not having trained as well as I'd hoped, I did still feel relatively positive about how I'd do - I definitely felt I could finish in 16 hours.  However, I changed to the early start (3 am) because I didn't want any chance I wouldn't get my hat.  To get a Waldo hat, you have to finish by 9pm - within 16 hours for the normal (5am) start, 18 hours for the early (3am) start, and I figured that just in case I was having a bad day, I wanted the extra cushion. 

At least, those are the rules for a 'normal' year. The Wednesday before the race, a fire broke out near the Pacific Crest Trail (PCT), in the middle of the course.  Luckily, the Forest Service was able to quickly get the fire under control and co-Race Directors Craig Thornley, Meghan Arboghast (and others) put together a revised course that kept us out of the burn area.  The revised course added an additional 5km (3 miles) and some additional elevation. Because of the change, they gave us an additional hour to get our hat - 10pm.  An hour it turns out I needed.

Some facts about Waldo (partially stolen from Douglas McCarty's blog):
5120: Starting and Finishing Elevation, in feet. There are two minor climbs of about 1,000 feet, and three major climbs of more that 2,000 feet (Fuji, The Twins and Maiden Peak).

7,818: Elevation in feet at the summit of Maiden Peak which is 9 miles from the Finish Line.

12,000: Approximate feet of climbing on the revised course (of course, there was an equal 12,000 feet of descending as well). (To put it in perspective, the infamous “Heartbreak Hill” in the Boston Marathon rises a total of 88 feet over the course of almost one half mile—that would barely qualify as a “roller” at Waldo.) -- in a normal year, there is about 11,000 feet of elevation gain.

So.... my Waldo story:

I woke up just before my 1AM alarm.  Ross and I camped in the parking lot at Willamette Pass.  Despite only putting in one ear plug (nervous about missing my alarm if I put both in), I managed to fall asleep before 10, so was able to get a few hours of sleep.  Made tea, ate my bagel, double checked that my hydration pack had everything, and applied a few coats of body glide to the likely-to-chafe parts.  The morning was warm, but surprisingly, there were a few sprinkles. 

Just before the 3am start. 
Thanks to Mikio for the photo

At 3AM, I left the start with the rest of the early-starters (30 or so?).  Somehow I ended up in the lead.  I certainly didn't feel like I was pushing the pace - I was actually trying to keep my breathing and heart-rate under control - but there I was in the front.  The course was marked with reflective strips, but I was still unfamiliar with the route and at times the strips were hard to find.  Thankfully, Ken Sinclair volunteered to lead us the way to (nearly) the Gold Lake Aid Station.  On the way, I chatted with Darryl from Condon - who several years ago weighed 433 pounds.  He lost 195 pounds (!) a few years ago and is now a serious marathon and ultramarathon runner.  Seriously impressive.

I loved the first several hours of the race.  The route to the Fugi aid station was fairly runnable and time was flying by.  It was light enough to turn off my head lamp near the AS, and as I was about 100meters from the top of Mt. Fugi, I caught a glimpse of a sliver of red just above the mountains.  I got to the top in time to see the sun, glowing red through the lingering smoke, finish its climb above the mountains.  The sky was awash in brilliant reds, oranges, and yellows.  Stretching in front of me were rows of mountain peaks, green valleys, and dark blue lakes.  The view was AMAZING.  That's my excuse for tripping and falling to my knees at the top.  ...but seriously, it was so beautiful.  Definitely worth the 1am wake-up call.

Unfortunately, my high from the morning started to fade the longer the sun was up.  By the time I reached the Twins for the first time, I realized that my stomach was seriously unhappy.  I had some mild nausea that I attributed to the elevation, but over the course of the day I ended up having to visit the bushes six times for some rather unpleasant business.  I have never had that bad of a stomach during a race.  I've gone over my diet for the previous week and the only thing unusual was maybe a little more dairy than normal.  I think that, the early start, the strain on my body, and the emotional stress I'd been under leading up the race led to my issues.  Unfortunately, this took both a physical and mental toll and contributed to a negative mental dialogue that I had a hard time shaking for most of the day.

The other part of my negative attitude was my feet - my feet hurt.  Not impending-blisters pain; just plain pain.  I've had a love-hate relationship with trail running shoes and have struggled to find some that offer the right balance of flexibility, shock absorption, and stability.  I've been having issues with foot pain once I hit about 20 miles in training runs, and the same was happening in this race.  I changed my shoes at Charleton Lake from an older pair of Brooks Cascadias to a new pair.  Despite not being well broken-in (I'd only done one medium-long run in them), the change in shoes helped, but I think I still need to do some experimenting with brands and styles.

Luckily, the Waldo aid stations have the best volunteers I've ever experienced, and I really do credit them with helping me cross the finish line.  At every aid station, my pack was whisked off my back and promptly filled with my fluid of choice.  I was then offered a variety of foods - and for most of the aid stations everything had been carried several miles UP steep trails.  The volunteers were excited and encouraging and over-all awesome.  It was particularly great to see so many of my Corvallis friends at the stations - the Millers at Gold Lake - and Anne again at Maiden Peak, LD and Lobo at the Twins, Scott at Charleton, and Mikio at Maiden Lake.

Despite a drizzly morning, the afternoon of the race became rather warm, and climbing to the top of the Twins for the second time was an act of perseverance.  There were some beautiful views and some awesome wildflowers, but what really helped me push to the top was knowing that Ross would be waiting for me at the aid station.  Ross, LD, and Lobo took care of me - getting me a popsicle, which was so good, and trying to get me to eat more.  I switched from water to GuBrew in my pack since I was having a harder time eating calories and knew I was in a pretty severe deficit.

I left the Twins AS with Ross gently trotting behind me.  Ross paced me from the Twins II to the finish - 22 miles.  I don't think I would have finished the race if it hadn't been for him.  Our relationship was formed during many hours in the woods together and just his presence helped me stay calm and motivated through what would be my hardest miles.  Ross had been worried he wouldn't be able to keep up with me, but when I was doing what I thought was a run, I'd look back to find him power walking - no issues with keeping up.  The section from the Twins to Gold Lake was relatively easy-going, but I was pretty spent by then, and had my first melt down going from Gold Lake to the Maiden Peak trail head.  I was tired and I hadn't expected the race to hurt so much.  ...and I felt disappointed in myself for not enjoying it more.  Ross encouraged me to just walk for a bit and was understanding and encouraging without being annoying.  He was perfect, and soon enough I was able to pick up my pace a bit for the 6 mile climb to Maiden Peak.

I think we had a decent pace heading up the Peak.  I was very glad for our Thursday night power hikes and I kept telling myself to 'hike like Lobo' since he is always able to set such a great pace.  As we neared Maiden Peak, we could increasingly hear the rumbling of thunder and when we were finally able to get a view of the peak, it became apparent that there was a large thundercloud sitting over the top.  I told Ross that during my massage the Monday before, Meghan had told me that if the forecast thunderstorms appeared that they would probably just have us bypass the very top section.  I was secretly hoping they would, since I didn't feel like I had it in me for the last steep climb to the top - and I was in luck since at the saddle, some volunteers told us that due to lightening, we would be bypassing the very peak.  Yippee! Normally I would feel like a wimp for not wanting to go to the very top, but I'd run over 50 miles by that then, so I think I'm excused this time.

About 9 miles from the finish.

Ross and I picked our way down the steep part heading down from the saddle, then found ourselves at the last aid station.  I was feeling pretty good and after felt like I had a pretty good pace going after we left the AS.  Only 7.5 miles to the finish, mostly downhill - surely I could get there in 1 1/2 hours.  About 45 minutes later, we got to a lake where some volunteers told us 'only 4 more miles to go'.  Which meant I'd been going much slower than expected.  Cue melt-down - major melt-down.  I no longer wanted to run.  I was worn out - I just wanted to be done.  Ross was again gently encouraging, telling me that even at my fast-ish walk, we would make it in time for a hat.  I yelled back that I didn't care (not true - I really wanted a hat) and that I just wanted to stop running (very true).  Ross took it in stride and let me cry it out (at one point, I actually sobbed 'I cant stop crying'), and eventually I managed to start moving to the finish again.  I power-hiked most of those last miles, which at that point was faster than my 'run'.  I did manage to psuedo-run from the end of the trail to the finish line - and received both an awesome hug from the Queen (who in addition to being a great co-RD is an awesome masseuse and friend and has been so encouraging and supportive) and my hat.

18 hours, 18 minutes, and 14 seconds - 73rd out of 91 finishers; 21 runners dropped this year.  I found it interesting that despite feeling like I fell apart in the second half, my place was fairly consistent from one aid station to the next, varying between 68th to 75th place at each of them.

The next day, Ross asked me if I'd do another 100km.  At that point, I wasn't even sure if I wanted to do another 50km.  Of course, predictably, a few days later I started thinking about how I could train better if I ever did another one.  Whether I do another, and despite the pain of the day, I am so glad I ran Waldo this year.  Besides the knowledge that I can run 100km (and get my hat), Waldo ended up being a bit of a 'good-bye' to Oregon for me since a few days after the race, I left for my new job and home in Colorado.  I really can't think of something I would have rather done the weekend before leaving.  ...and in the weird way that my brain works, this was also in part a way for Ross and I to celebrate our up-coming wedding.  We had skied partially up Fugi and had backpacked many of the trails we ended up running together and it was wonderful to revisit those places and memories.