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!"

Team In Training SGV Bushido - Way of The TNT Warrior

The SGV TNT BUSHIDO

“Way of the TNT Warrior”

~adapted from the So Cal Coyotes Trail Bushido who adapted from someone else..who adapted from another... and then someone else. Pass it on!

0.        Your Physical Health is Ground Zero

Running, walking, training should enhance your health, not tear you apart. Recovery is key. Always keeping in mind the point of doing this is to maximize your well being. If you are constantly pushing it, never taking time for recovery you will soon break down or burn out. Keep an eye on your energy levels and your physical aches and pains. Either we take time to self-maintain or soon we we’ll be doing all the things we should have been doing all along while injured.

1. Respect The Run/Walk/Training

Running, walking and training are a gift.  Always strive to appreciate that you can move your body in an inspired, elegant and amazing way. Even a “bad” run is still part of a great day more often than not.  You are challenging yourself for YOU , for others (cancer patients and their families) and sport. Your body will react and you will become stronger.  Running, walking, training is one of the greatest representations of, “you get out what you put in”.

2. Respect Your Fellow Athlete

Anyone who runs, walks, bikes, hikes, swims, snowshoes etc. deserves our respect. Those who get out there and JUST DO IT, it doesn’t matter the distance, speed or frequency, on that day you are an athlete and we are humbled by you.

3. Respect the Roads and Trails 

No matter where you live, you can always visit some amazing places to run. Be it a local park, a side trail at the Rose Bowl, a mountain, canyon or beach, Earth deserves our deepest respect. It’s not enough to not litter. Pick up litter. We are using the trails to better ourselves; let’s leave the trails better too. Step up your game. It will feel really good and you will inspire others to do the same.

    4.  Remember Where You Started

Whether it was 28 years ago or 28 days ago, remember how far you have come. Do not waste time wishing you were better, faster, more fit than another time in your life. Work to be better NOW.  There was a time when physical activity (running, walking, training) was difficult, laborious, or even punishment, but now, you can enjoy yourself, have fun and improve with mindful remembrance.

    5.  Never Envy (Another Athlete)

Much of an athlete’s success is determined prior to their workout’s beginning. Never begrudge someone else the hard work they did to improve. Measure yourself against yourself and be generous with that measurement (be glass half full)

    6.   LEAD (By Example)

Commit yourself to having an impact of others (runners/walkers and “non” athletes alike). Training doesn’t just improve you physically; it improves your overall health, well being, vitality, and mentality. Reinvest that energy in others by inspiring them to take up a physical activity that inspires them. If they hate running or don’t run/walk, invite them to give it another shot with new perspective. 99% of us loved to run when we were children. We didn’t even think about it. “Don’t run in the house, the hall, by the pool etc”. “You messed up! Run two laps”, our PE teachers bellowed! Somewhere we took the wrong turn. If you found your way back to that joy (or never lost it, spread the love. Even if you inspire just one in every ten people, that one drop in the pond will send shockwaves through their life and to those around them. It is worth it.

    7.  The “All In” Mentality

You never know which run/walk or race will be your last or last for awhile. Don’t take it for granted. It’s one thing to take an easy day in a tough week; it’s another thing altogether to just run because your training schedule says so. Don’t lose sight of this simple, yet profound thing that we do and how much we miss it when it’s not available as an option. As Team in Training Athletes we do share a bit of the cancer fighter’s struggle. Cancer patients and families suffer. They suffer through the fear and the pain of treatment. We suffer too. Training can be tough and there are days when it can be difficult. Remember that our suffering is a joyous suffering done in large part to end the suffering of those who courageously take on cancer and fight for LIFE.

 

 8.  Have Fun!

“If you are not having fun, you’re doing it wrong.” – K. Benton

It’s better to sacrifice performance goals than it is to sacrifice the enjoyment of running/walking. Of course it is fun to improve, but if you make it to the end of a long training program, fall short at a race, and have the thought or feeling that “I just wasted four to five months of my life” or more, you’ve ripped yourself off in so many ways.  The journey is what counts! Start with an attitude of gratitude and the race results will follow. No, it will not happen over night. Our sport requires patience.

    9.  Finish Strong!

Finish your races strong. Give it your all even if your all is a slow march to the finish line. Sometimes finishing strong is simply about your attitude. When close to the finish, line it up and knock it out. Don’t quit. The  two exceptions are injury or when you have spent 50% or more of a race running/walking with someone (teammate or otherwise). Though shall not drop the hammer on partnership at the very end. If you are running with a partner and for position you agree to part ways prior to the last 20% of the race.

    10. There Are Many Eyes in “TEAM”

When it comes to training (running/athletic walking) or a race there will be good days and ugly days.  YOU are part of a TEAM, especially when you don the Team in Training jersey. Represent yourself as you would want your teammates to represent you. Especially when you have a bad day. The great thing about failing when part of a TEAM is you get to celebrate the success of your teammates instead of wallowing in self pity. Even when you go to a race when you are a “TNTer of one”, we are globally recognized and you represent us all. You represent yourself, your teammates, TNT alumni and future teammates. Make the TEAM proud, especially when your performance isn’t what you had hoped.

"All endeavor calls for the ability to tramp the last mile, shape the last plan, endure the last hours toil. The fight to the finish spirit is the one... characteristic we must posses if we are to face the future as finishers" - Henry David Thoreau

http://www.socalcoyotes.com/bushido-video.html

The Angeles Crest 100 - My First DNF! Beautiful!

I grew up and currently reside in the San Gabriel Valley.

To the North are The San Gabriel Mountains. These mountains hold within memories, wonder and discovery for me. I've been stomping around in these mountains by ski, bike, and foot since I was a kid.

It was never a question to me that if I ever ran a 100 mile trail race that the AC100 would be my first crack at the distance. I first learned of the Angeles Crest 100 Mile Endurance Run in 2006 as my Team in Training friend/mentor/coach Jimmy Freeman was training to tackle this event. I watched him at various points along the AC course that year and saw him finish. "Amazing", I thought to myself. At the time I was focusing more on the roads and the marathon distance. I never considered going after 100 miles. Every year since I have been drawn to this race to spectate what most would call irrational, unreasonable, pointless. There's something very inspiring about watching people push their limits physically, emotionally, and in some cases I'm sure spiritually. The AC100 is considered to be one of the more difficult 100 milers around. "It's supposed to be hard!"

Above - Chantry Flats AC100 2010 spectator (Mile 75ish - inspired by runners who have a marathon to go - over mountains!) 

The race was filling up quickly this year and with a leap into the unknown I took the plunge and registered for the 2012 AC100. Why not? Are we ever ready to take on something big or a task/goal that we perceive as impossible? I don't think we are. If we wait until we are 100% confident to take things on we will often find ourselves waiting and twiddling our thumbs. We stay stagnant and I'm tired of being that way. The training,  the journey to the start of AC100 was a mixed bag of emotions and motivation. There were days when I wanted to get out there and days where I wished I never signed up for the race. Training for this event was a struggle on many occasions and I had to force myself to get out the door and run. There were other moments though that re-affirmed my love for training and running and most of those were because of the friends that came out to share the trails with me and the beauty of the mountains and trails.

Above - training adventures

Pre- Race Travels- I arrived in Wrightwood, CA mid morning the day before the race. I checked in to my cabin and went over to the community center for the medical evaluation (weight and blood pressure) and bib pick up. I was happy to be there!

Above - The day before. 

My crew (crew - friends who would be supporting me throughout 100 miles) arrived later in the evening. The hours waiting from them were lonely and the mind wandered from positives thoughts of success to "what the hell am I doing? Can I get out of here." As I waited I mixed fuels and prepared gear for my crew and the race.

At one point I turned on the television (Dish music - acoustic station) and Bob Dylan's "It's All Over Now Baby Blue" played. I cranked it up and laughed to myself. ..."Leave your stepping stones behind something calls for you..."

Also had moments imagining I was operating a drug den as I mixed my race fuel :D

Above - Should I cut this with more Carb Powder? Are the cops coming? Are they onto me?

My crew arrived, we got things situated then it was time for "sleep". I wish I banked more hours of sleep leading into this race as I only got two hours that Friday night. My mind was all over the place as I sat in bed. Mini panic attacks in bed followed by peaceful mantras to get the SandMan to visit. Somehow I got a few hours of shut eye. The alarm rings at 3:30AM! I'm up and moving and getting ready. The race is at hand and there isn't too much time to dilly dally. My crew of friends are pretty much all business aside from some comments about snoring and they usher me out the door. My cabin is a few short blocks away from the starting line and I walk to the starting line alone in the darkness. I appreciated the moment to be alone and soak in the situation. "This is happening!"

Waiting For the Gun to Go Off - I see many familiar faces of the ultra community at the Wrightwood Community Center. I check in and sit down. There's Louis, Andy, Summer, Kate, Jimmy , Mark,  Anibal, my crew, Andy K, Catra, Hal, and Kam. I'm sure I missed some.

Above - My Crew (Cup, Think Blue TB. The Hawk and Me - not pictured The Dog Runner & Bandito)

I then see my friends Van and Virginia who drove up the mountain to see myself and the others runners on. These two amazing, genuine, kind people are life thrivers and cancer survivors. I am linked with them through Team in Training and the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society.

Along with this adventure I chose to add a fundraising component. If I can step up to the starting line of a 100 mile run over mountains WE can raise money to end cancers: Cancers that Virgina and Van have survived / endured and cancer that took my Dad and many others away from us.

Tick Tock Time To Start! 

It's now time to step up to the line. Am I ready? No choice. Here it was! I took my place under the start banner, shook some hands and embraced in a few hugs. Not knowing what to do I got off my feet and sat for a few minutes against a dumpster. I stood up, took a calming breath and recited a childhood Jr All American Football prayer that I recalled from back "in the day": Adapted for running:

"God our Father Hear me pray
As I prepare to run this day
Give me strength and courage too
To do the best in all I do
Protect us as we run this day
This much I ask in Thy name"

Above - grass field and San Gabriel Mountains in the background

 I'm not Catholic, but I did the sign off the cross. Hoots Howls Hollers and the Gun Goes OFF!
It was a relief to hear the start call! The first step and I now have less than 100 miles! I'm making headway!

Mile 0 to Mile 9.3 (Wrightwood to Inspiration Point) The race starts with a climb up along the Acorn Trail to Blue Ridge. Heeding the advice the AC100 vets I take it easy here and enjoy, for a moment, the sunrise.  I pass from the San Bernadino Mountains into the Angles National Forest and smile as I high five the "Welcome, Entering ANF" sign. "This is awesome..."

I'm successful here to not get sucked into the adrenaline of the early race and stick with an easy pace. I get up to Blue Ridge, run the flats and downs (a lie - I peck my way along a section of down because it is very technical and steep) and pull into Inspiration Point aid where my Indy 500 worthy crew awaits. Time is of the essence. I'm a mid to back of the pack ultra runner (at the moment) and I need all the time I can get. I'm in and out in less than five minutes.

(left - sunrise in the San Gabriels)


Mile 9.3 to Mile 13.85 (Inspiration Point to Vincent Gap) Feeling good here. I see new friend Summer on the trail and she is in good spirits, but struggling a bit with some breathing issues. The higher altitude doesn't help. I realize that she is struggling mainly because she is a stronger runner than me and under "normal" situations she is a good distance ahead of me.      Good thoughts on this section as I feel I'm making good headway, but alas...

Mile 13.85 to Mile 25.91 (Vincent Gap to Islip Saddle) I arrived at Islip feeling pretty good. My energy is fine. My crew goes to work as they switch me to a flap (sun/neck protective) hat, give me an iced filled bandanna, and stock my pack with fuels. There's a long climb to near the summit of Mt Baden Powell ahead and a shade more than a half marathon to the next aid. Mt Baden Powell peaks at 9407 ft (we don't go quite that high)and pushing at a faster pace makes one hear their heart beat in their ears. In past training ruins (I meant runs mot "ruins" because "ruins" is somewhat accurate :D  ) this climb was tough for me, but on AC100 day I was feeling great!. As I climbed I was was able to pass four runners. I attribute that to my training, rest (taper, and staying easy/calm the first part of the race. I was not racing these runners, but it still felt good to pass them. Once you climb to near the summit of BP the runner has some ridge running to do.

Some ups and downs to do over beautiful country. On the ridge at mile 18 my right ankle buckled once and I fell to the trail. I got up, limped for about 20 yards, then realized I could keep going. More running and the twisted trail popped my ankle again. This time I did not fall, but questioned my selection of shoes for this race. I had similar ankle rolling issues in these shoes during my training runs, but opted for them due to their great cushion. "Settle down!", I thought to myself.

I ran some more along that ridge. My ankle gave way once again. I yelped in temporary pain. I fell to the trail. "I can quit now", I thought. "I'll pull into the next aid and drop". Makes sense right?

"Bullshit!", I told myself. Sometimes when I roll an ankle there is initial pain. I'll limp on it for a bit then realize I can safely go on without doing permanent damage. "ONWARD!"  POP goes the ankle, "F*C#!" another twist on the same ankle and a return trip to the earth below. I made my way to the next aid station somewhat dejected, but that feeling of dejection would not last too long.

Mile 25.91 to Mile 29.98 (Islip Saddle to Eagles Roost) On the way down the trail to Eagles Roost I knew I needed to switch out my shoes. Again, my crew was greased lightening. They fixed me up and sent me on my way (fresh shoes and all). I had another section to conquer. At Islip the runners cross Angeles Crest Highway and climb up an exposed trail to near the summit of Mt Williamson. My energy was still pretty darned good and I passed two runners along the way. As I passed these two struggling athletes I reminded myself that "I am not competing against you. I am competing with you" Still, in the face of my rolls and falls it gave me a boost. My climbing that day felt strong. I got to the top of that section and now for the downhill. The issue now was that the downhills were difficult on my ankle. I ran, fast, hiked and ran.. On the downhill of Williamson I pulled out my i-pod and turned on the tunes. I never listened to music during my runs, training or races, but I was experimenting to see how the tunes would effect my running. My i-pod was loaded with reggae music. I was alone on the trail and soon was singing aloud. I felt alive in the moment. I was having a blast! At some point heading down Mt Williamson I had a flash of who I am and who I want to be. I thought to myself, "This is me! I'm doing this! I'm going to get to that finish!" I felt joy, satisfaction and 100% alive in that moment along that trail!

 Mile 29.98 to Mile 37.54 (Eagle's Roost to Cloudburst Summit) I pulled into Eagles Roost feeling charged despite my ankle. Once again, my crew greeted me with smiles and and a fresh set of fuels. We shared some humor and I grabbed a chilled coconut water for the section ahead. The section ahead covered some miles on pavement (due to an endangered yellow legged frog habitat) and then a section that takes one into Cooper Canyon. The flat road was a welcome relief to my ankle. I was able to run on the road for stretches and passed a few others who were suffering. Again, we are not competing with each other. We are competing with our "inner goonies" as my friend Juan would say. We are in this together. I left the road for Cooper Canyon and was feeling pretty good despite the adversity. Unfortunately time was running fast. Go go go! Near the stream bed I came across a strong runner sitting on a rock. "Are you ok?" I asked. "I'm done" he said. "Can I help?"... "Nah, I rolled my ankle... I'm done. I was still in familiar territory at this point and felt good about making the next time cutoff. "Move move move" I was looking forward to seeing my friends and pacers Matt and The Bandito who would be meeting me at miles 50ish and 75ish respectively I ran this section once before on a training run and it was marked differently, We ran a different route during the training run. The race directors mentioned this change and it did not register in my mind that there may be a change in trail. Turns out this section was a good half mile longer than advertised in the training run. Oh well... no whining. Maybe I just did. That said, the clock ticked closer to the Cloudburst Aid cutoff. Being on unfamiliar terrain I didn't have a feel for how far until to the next checkpoint. "It's gotta be close." I thought to myself. The clock ticked away closer to the cutoff time and soon my race was over.

I was probably about three or so minutes from making the cutoff. My friends (crew) came down the trail to meet me and we made our way up to Cloudburst Summit.

 The AC100 was my first DNF (Did Not Finish), yet it was one of my most rewarding running, "racing" experiences. I'm not a fast runner, yet I did race this event. I raced against the clock, my doubts and fears. I did not race my fellow runners, but ran with them.

 I'm ok with my efforts and accomplished two out of three goals.
-Finish without major damage to my health
-Do not shrink from adversity -Give the race my best.

Icing on the cake is that together we raised almost $5500 for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. These funds will go to fight cancers! I would still like to raise more life saving dollars. Want to reach the ultimate finish line, a cure!
http://los.lls.llsevent.org/kileyakers

The Day After - 

I ventured down to the AC100 finish line to see some of my fellow runners cross the line.  To see friends and those who I had a chance to train with cross the line was great.  I didn't feel like I was missing out because I didn't finish this one race, but felt inspired to become a stronger runner and come and give the AC100 a crack in 2013. Here's a an AC100 finisher. Permission to use courtesy Larry Gassan Photography.

Above - And the last shall be first. The last finisher of AC100 2012. check out Larry Gassan's photography/design here: http://larrygassan.com/

Notes:

I met many great people during my training and got to know others a bit better. Special shout out to Louis for being that extra spark that inspired me to take this on and kept me going. Thanks to Jimmy for being a great mentor and for getting this idea in my head a few years back. I enjoyed my training runs with JZ and not knowing exactly where we were going as well as the tough training run /rattle snake encounter with Coach Manny. The Bandito's midnight singing in the canyon was a treat too. Grateful for the friendship and mountain trails.

Thanks to Team in Training. I would not have taken this on without TNT.

Thank you to all of you who supported the spirit of my adventure and to those who donated to LLS. So many people are touched by this cancers. I will continue to do what I can to help be a part of the cure. 

Special thank to the people who came out and gave me extra support on race day (aka my crew). You guys were like an INDY 500 pit Crew  and Pacers that day and I looked forward to seeing you at all the aid stations. I wish I made more.

SEE YOU AT THE AC100 2013 Starting Line!