Angeles Crest 100 Miles Endurance Run - 2013 DNF

Why?

Why would anyone want to run 100 miles? There are many different answers to that. I am still trying to pinpoint mine. An easier question for me to answer is "why do I want to run and finish The Angeles Crest 100 Mile Endurance Run?"  The San Gabriel Mountains are magical to me. That sounds a bit trite, but yes, there is "magic" in those mountains. As a kid I spent a lot of time up there with my Dad. Mostly we skied the small resorts of Kratka Ridge and Mt Waterman, but sometimes we would hike a local trail, visit The Mt Wilson Observatory,  or simply drive up Angeles Crest to check out a snowstorm.

As I got a bit older I would go up solo or accompanied by my dog or another friend. I enjoyed the adventure of exploring a new trail, climbing a new peak, or crashing through a stream on my mountain bike.  I wasn't a “runner” back then but found myself running down the trails after bagging a peak. Running down the trail reminded me of skiing. I was also hungry and just wanted to get back to civilization and eat.

Years later I found a love for running through Team in Training. I did a couple of road marathons and then discovered trail running. I was back in the mountains and soon found the Angeles Crest 100 through my TNT coach Jimmy Dean.  Eventually, I took the plunge.  Angeles Crest 100 2013 would be my second attempt at finishing. You can read about my 2012 attempt here.

                                          AC100 Start 2013

Wrightwood – Inspiration Point (9.3 miles)

Five minutes into the run a sense of depression came over me. At least I was getting my first mental meltdown out of the way! Part of me just didn't want to be there and I had a lot of trouble staying present in the moment. My legs felt heavy.  It was difficult to not imagine the climbs and discomfort ahead. "Quit gripping," I told myself. "Relax."  As we climbed the switchbacks to Blue Ridge I looked around at the company that surrounded me. These were runners who I considered stronger than me.  I questioned if I was moving too fast, took stock of my heart rate and breathing and deemed that I wasn't. Physically, I was feeling good.

I made it to Blue Ridge and took in the sunrise views. Baldy off in the distance and my mood started to lift a bit. I was able to run more sections this year than I was able last. This gave me a lift and as I made my way to the first aid station, I noticed that the blues that I had started the race with were leaving. It took a few hours of moving to flush out the grogginess that was a product of the sleeping pill I took the night before. "Nothing new on race day?"

                                           sunrise at Inspiration Point courtesy Rona Smith

Inspiration Point – Vincent Gap (4.5 miles)

Dropping into Vincent Gap I heard the first of many "yeah buddy's" from my friend Rona. The next stretch was a short, runnable 4.5 miles. I ditched my hydration pack and opted to cover the this section with two handhelds.  I was in and out of Vincent Gap in less than a minute. My legs were waking up along with my spirits and I felt comfortable cruising at an easy pace (for me) through this section. I passed my friend Mark along this section. "I think we are going too fast," said Mark. I sensed some concern in his voice and questioned my own pace.  I was feeling good at my pace and trusted what I was doing. Along this stretch I met a woman named Rececca. At times it's very helpful to chat it up with another runner. It can jolt out the loneliness that sometimes gets a hold when you are having constant conversations in the head.  As it would play out, Rebecca would be key in me getting as far as I did in this race.

Rona cheering on ALL runners.

Vincent Gap – Islip Saddle (12.06 miles)

I dropped into Vincent Gap aid and my INDY worthy crew helped me restock and be on my way. I wouldn't see them for a long time after this aid.  The runner leaves Vincent Gap, traverses almost 50 switchbacks to Mt. Baden Powell, then runs the PCT to Little Jimmy Camp and eventually the next aid.  This section is some of the most beautiful on the course. It was also part of my downfall last year.  Once the runner branches away from Baden Powell much of the trail is rolling and technical in many spots.  Last year I popped my ankle on this section four times and hit the dirt three. That slowed me down enough to eventually be timed out at Cloudburst Summit.  I attribute those 2012 ankle rolls to the shoes I was wearing. This year I was in a different model and had no such issues. 

The climb up to Baden Powell kicked my butt more so than in some of the training runs I did in preparation. Along the ridge to Little Jimmy I was again visited by the self talk that is not of the helpful variety.  "Quit gripping", I told myself. "Relax",

below - popping out to Islip - photo - courtesy of  "Think Blue"

Islip Saddle – Eagles Roost (roughly 4 miles)

Islip Saddle is an aid station and a medical checkpoint. I stepped on the scale and was down a few pounds, but good to go. At races like this they often measure your weight to monitor dehydration / over-hydration. My crew got me in and out, I dropped my hydration pack and opted for the handhelds for this short stretch. 

Leaving the aid one has a short, but steep climb over Mt Williamson. I passed two runners on the short climb only to have them overtake me on the downhill over the other side. 

Eagles Roost – Cloudburst (7.56)

I was again greeted by crew member Rona's enthusiasm as I entered the Eagles Roost aid station. My crew hooked me up and I hit the road with a cold iced tea in my hand. I slugged it down and started running sections of the highway. This section of the course puts the runner on the highway to bypass a canyon section that is closed to protect a frog species. Anyhow, the road was a nice change of pace. I compared my pace to the previous year and noticed I was seven minutes ahead of last year.  Those seven minutes though wouldn't be good enough to get me through the Cloudburst cut off. I would have to pick it up unless I wanted to again be locked out of the race at the 'magical' Cloudburst Gate.  Once the runner gets past Cloudburst the time cut-offs relax a bit.

Along the road I caught back up with Rebecca. We started talking and both realized that Cloudburst would be tight. She was the last runner to make that cutoff last year so I decided to stick with her. We worked together to run as much as possible. Once we hit the dirt trail that leads down into Cooper Canyon I pulled ahead and lost sight of her. I was making good time along the canyon. I had to otherwise my day would end like it did the year before. I started the climb out of Cooper Canyon and looked back. No Rebecca. "If I made it," I thought, "I would be the last through Cloudburst this year."

I was wrong. Moving hard up the switchbacks to Cloudburst came Rebecca. As she passed me I yelled out, "Are we going to make it?"  "Yes, just keep pushing!"

With Rebecca's help I made what to me is the infamous Cloudburst cutt off. I was too busy working to be gripping, but I'm sure my crew was wondering if I would make it. I was seven minutes ahead of cutoff and twenty minutes ahead of last year's time.

I was also out of gas.

Cloudburst – Three Points (5.18 miles)

At Cloudburst my crew loaded me up with the necessities and urged me to get out the door and back on the trail. "It's a new race. You're still in the game," were the words told me by friend and crew chief Ryan.  I felt like I was hanging on by a thread.

The trail from CB to Three Point is very runnable, almost all downhill but I was so gassed from the CB battle that I had to walk and recover. At one point the section sweeper caught up with me. I kept thinking it would be just a short while before I was timed out of the race.  The rule though is to simply keep moving forward and that's what I did. I wish it was faster, but I had to recover.  

Three Points – Mt Hillyer (6.36)

Came into Three Point Aid with twelve minutes to spare. They weren't lying when they said the cutoffs relax a bit after CB.  My crew offered up words of encouragement, stocked my pack and I was on my way. "I believe in you!", yelled Rona as I left.  The words gave me a spark as I headed into the late part of daylight.  I particularly like this section of the course. The terrain is a bit more gentle and reminds me of something out of a Western. As you look across the terrain it's easy to imagine horse thieves and banditos.  This section is also runnable and the trail is a bit less technical.  I made up some good time here.

Along this section I caught up with Rebecca. She was carrying a small sandwich bag of pickles. I asked her if she was having cramping issues (I've heard pickle juice help alleviate muscle cramps). She said "no" ... it was just the only thing that sounded appealing to eat.  That would be the last time I saw her. She wound up dropping at Mt Hillyer a few miles ahead. I appreciated the help of the other runner and wish she had made it further along the course,

One eventually bottoms out and has to climb a seldom used paved back road up to Mt Hillyer. I don't mind this section, but I think I'm not the norm in regards to this. Along the road I passed a runner. We talked a bit but she eventually told me she wanted to be left alone. She was having a rough day and was about to have a breakdown. I respected her wishes and left her as she started crying.  I double checked. "Go!" she said.   

Mt Hillyer – Chilao (3.72)

Made it to Hillyer aid  with good time to spare. My run through bandito country was a good one. I drank some chicken broth, talked with a few at the aid station and set out for Chilao.   

The sun was starting to go down as a ran / hiked the Hillyer Ridge. It was beautiful. The mix of emotion, fatigue and scenery is hard to describe in words.

It was dark as I snaked my way down from Hillyer. It came on very quickly. At once I simply did not want to continue. I had now run further than I ever had before.  I thought of taking my time and timing out at Chilao. Back and forth a mental masturbation. Should I stop? Should I continue? Physically I was feeling pretty good and I was climbing up through the ranks of the other runners. Still, I  sat down on the ground, looked at the orange sky and planned my DNF. 

                                                    Chilao Sunset - Rona Smith

I was having trouble being in the moment. I was thinking too much about the miles and climbs ahead. I knew they would be hard and that I may not finish.  I went back and forth with myself until I simply decided to go on, make the cutoff and see what was ahead. I'm a bit bothered by frittering away five minutes on the trail above Chilao, but I think there is a lesson in there...  

Chilao – Shortcut (6.5)

I pulled into Chilao to my crew, my pacer Sawna, and a group of friends who had made the drive up the Crest to cheer myself and the other runners on. I weighed in (still down a few pounds), reloaded and hit the trail with Sawna serving as my trail shaman.

It was nice to have Sawna there on the trail.  I could now get out of my head a bit and talk about different things. Ask her questions instead of going back and forth in my mind.  Sawna did a good job of keeping me focused on the positive. We passed a runner climbing out of Shortcut Canyon and eventually came to Shortcut Aid.  

Shortcut – Newcombs (8.65)
(w/ shaman Sawna @ Shortcut)

At shortcut I announced my number and met back up with my crew. More chicken noodle soup! The broth was really the only thing that I wanted to eat. Solids made me want to puke, but my crew did there best to try to get me to eat. A small piece of boiled potato here.... a bite pf PB&J there.  As I looked at the other runners at Shortcut I was surprised to see a handful that I know to be in better shape / stronger than me. A combination of their "off day" and my continued march forward enabled me to catch them. Whether it was that, just getting through some tough miles, or being closer to the finish I left with Sawna feeling re-charged and optimistic.

From Shortcut the runner has a long downhill on fire road to canyon's bottom. Sawna and I decided to run a run/walk ratio of 4:1. We would run four minutes, then take a one minute walk break to recover and switch muscle groups.  It felt great. We were passing other runners and having a good time.  It was here that I started to believe that I could actually finish this thing. I still had about 35 miles to go, but if I continued to feel this good it was possible. We bottomed out in the canyon and now had a climb to the next aid station. The climb isn't particularly long. What could go wrong?

If you feel good during an ultra it will pass. If you hit a rough patch it will pass. My feel good abruptly ended about a mile into the climb up to Newcombs Saddle.  My energy started to really drain and my stomach started to act up. I'll save the details of my stomach issues.

When we got to Newcombs Saddle I was gassed.  My head was starting to spin. One of the radio operators said that he had been following me all day and was impressed with my effort to hang in and beat the cutoffs. This gave me a warm and fuzzy feeling, but only for a moment. I had to somehow regroup if I was going to finish this thing. One of the great aid station volunteers made me a banana, peanut butter tortilla wrap. He warmed the tortilla, spread some PB on it and included some sliced banana in it.  "Take that with you and slowly nibble on it. You need to get some calories in you." I think I found a new trail food. Thanks aid station volunteer.

Newcombs – Chantry (6.6) 

With Sawna behind me and peanut butter burrito in hand we made our way down the trail to Big Santa Anita Canyon.  I was struggling at points to maintain my footing. Running was harder. I developed a bloody nose. I was hoping this patch would pass and I would have another lift in energy, but I think my stomach issues and cumulative lack of caloric intake were taking their toll. AC100 was throwing stomach punches at me and my reflexes weren't sharp enough to appropriately respond.

My concentration was wavering and I fell once. I tried to work the upcoming cutoffs in my head and had a sense that unless my physical and mental state improved it wasn't going to happen. As we climbed out of the canyon to Chantry I was pretty set on quitting.

Chantry – Idle Hour (9.02)

     more chicken soup at Chantry - photo Liam

It shouldn't have been a surprise to me, but it was. Awaiting me at Chantry was a pack of my friends who had made the pre-dawn drive to Chantry to show their support and love. These people are amazing. Much of Chantry was a blur. I looked at the food presented me and didn't know what to do. I tried to explain that I didn't think I would make it, but my crew did not hear it. I'm glad that they didn't.  Tony helped clear debris from my shoe, Ryan and Rona set up my pack and I popped out of the chair. I gave Sawna a hug and was now in the capable pacing hands of Juan "The Bandito". As I passed the radio operators I said, "I guess I should go... huh?" They didn't say a word.

                                          Chantry Flats - Courtesy Liam

I left Chantry feeling defeated. For a moment I felt a bit emotional when saying goodbye to the group. I had a strong feeling of gratitude for all the support around me and at the same time felt a sadness knowing that it didn't look like it was going to happen this time. Perhaps that was my downfall. I caved into being rational. Two tough climbs and some technical miles were between me and the finish line. I was simply exhausted.

The Bandito and I made our way through the lower section of Upper Winter Creek. This part isn't so bad. Two miles out of Chantry (roughly mile 77) Upper Winter Creek Trail bites down on you when you intersect Hoegee's Camp. The trail gets steep and the switchbacks seem to go on and on and on...... and on.

The Bandito did his best to keep me moving, but I was experiencing mental and physical exhaustion that I have never experienced before. My steps were small and I could feel my lungs laboring. There were moments where I was concerned for my health. Looking back I think that I was never in danger. Like I said, it was just a tiredness I have never experienced. The Bandito somehow kept my head together for the climb. It was slow.

Eventually we topped out at the Mt Wilson Toll Road. Defeated, but not officially out of the race, we made our way for the next aid station. I managed to shuffle a bit, but three or four switchbacks above the Idle Hour aid station I watched on my Timex as time ran out. No fanfare, just the quiet of the mountain morning... The Angeles Crest 100 2013 delivered it's final blow.

I pulled into Idle Hour roughly 15 minutes after the cutoff / 9:01AM Sunday,  83.75 miles from the start in Wrightwood, 16.25 miles from the finish line banner in Altadena.

It was a good death.

4G fun foreground - DNF contemplation with Juan in the background

NOTES:

The scales at Chantry -

My first foray into the AC100 was spectating at Chantry. This was 2006 I believe. It was very inspiring to see the runners come in after 75 miles on the trail and step on the scale. They would then take off into the night to cover a marathon over mountains to the finish. In my training I often imagined making that climb into Chantry and stepping on the scale. It wasn't until a few days post DNF that I realized .... I did. Next year --- the finish.

    scales at Chantry

Chilao Sunset -

Back to taking 5 minutes to think at Chilao. There's a lesson there for me.  If we just sit there thinking about it we won't accomplish much. We just sit... weighing out the options until we have none or one. Most things that are worth going after involve, hard work, discomfort and the unknown. We need to stretch ourselves and risk if we ever want satisfaction. This seems obvious to me when writing. It is often difficult for me to put into practice. Chilao sunset was a reminder.

A most important reminder -

Doing these things is more often than not a group effort.  The best part of this adventure was the reminder that I have a great cast of friends who support me, offer encouragement and love. The camaraderie of this race was so uplifting. Becoming a part of the running community has connected me with the best of the human spirit. My hat is off who showed up at the starting line and to the race race directors and volunteers who make this great event a possibility.

I also used this race as a platform to fundraise for a cause that close to my heart. Cancer robbed me of the father who introduced me to these mountains. The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society is one of the missions I support. As I ran through the day and night friends were rallying to help me reach my goal of raising over $10K for those who truly endure. Thanks everyone. I am moved by your teamwork, support and love. GO TEAM!

 

What lies ahead - I signed up for AC100 2014. I want to come back smarter, leaner, stronger, and mentally in shape. AC100 requires all of the above to have a chance to finish. I want to finish.

More notes -

-Improve nutrition strategy
-Wear taller socks and gaiters next time
-Take care of the little things. haste haste haste
-Train smarter. More volume
-Believe in self
-"QUIT GRIPPING!.... RELAX!"