Tahoe 200
Last 100 Almost
I know that if you are not a runner, you may find this boring to read. But I promise that after this, my following posts will focus more on the journaling part of mountainsnail’s journal. Now back to the very slow race.
Barker Pass to Stephen Jones Memorial
As I reach the Barker aid station, I’m starting to feel the sleep deprivation kick in, and my legs are pretty much shot. I know what’s coming next: a very steep downhill section. My quads are going to hurt. As you can see in the elevation graph above, it’s all downhill for 7 miles. I chill at the aid station for about 15 minutes, eat my new favorite, instant mashed potatoes in broth, and put on a new pair of shoes because of the water crossings from the previous section. The good news is that the water crossings are over now, so the wet-feet problems should be gone for the rest of the race. As I start the huge downhill, I have to psych myself up for the pain that will come. Some more relief spray and gravity are my only friends for the next 7 miles to Stephen Jones.
Stephen Jones Memorial to Tahoe City
I tried to lie down at Stephen Jones after eating a little food and resupplying my running pack from my drop bag. But sleep didn’t come because of many factors. Trying to sleep during the day, next to the lake, along a highway, and with the noise of an aid station was too much for me. After about 10 minutes of trying, I got up and continued walking toward Tahoe City. About 2 miles in, I was back into a steep climb with more frustrating downed trees to negotiate. As the sun started to set, I had so much trouble staying awake that I tried to take a short trail nap. With the mosquitoes out, I wiped myself down with repellent to try to get some rest. But the buzzing was so annoying that it was futile to sleep at all. After the huge climb up, a very runnable downhill came, but my body and mind were so worn out that I couldn’t make myself run at all. More trail sabotage came in the last 6 miles until I reached Tahoe City, and the hallucinations started as sleep deprivation kicked in full effect. The shadows from my waist light were the biggest problem, but as I hit a two-track gravel section, my mind thought the small gravel I was walking on was field mice scurrying around. This went on for a few miles, with what looked like the ground constantly moving with mice under my feet as I walked along. I also ran into a mountain biker on this section around midnight, which I didn’t register as unusual at the time, but later I thought about it and figured out who might have taken the course markers. About 1 mile left to Tahoe City, I found a fellow runner who was in bad shape with stomach issues, and he couldn’t walk because his cramps were so intense. So I tried to run to the aid station to get him some help.
Tahoe City to Brockway Summit
I came into Tahoe City in good spirits despite sleep deprivation, and I was joking around a little even though my body was pretty much done. It was a crewed aid station, so I got to see Michelle, JD, and Colbert for the second time in the race. We decided a nap was needed before I continued, but I only lay down for 30 minutes. The sleep was weird, as it felt like I was given anesthesia or something, and my brain shut off completely. JD was going to tag along with me until Village Green, which is 34 miles away, and is going to be a grind because my nap did nothing to repair my legs for running, with my quads still at a 10 on the pain scale. We left Tahoe City around 2:00 AM with our waist lights illuminating the trail until the sun came up. It was a peaceful hike to the Brockway aid station, with the sun eventually coming up and the weird forest coming alive the way it does in the morning, with all the birds waking up. This section was another power-hike section for me with JD, and I small-talked all the way to Brockway Summit.
Brockway Summit to Village Green
At Brockway, I told JD I needed another nap because I was crashing again, but I didn’t get much sleep because it was daytime now, and the typical noise of an aid station. So off we went, and back to just power hiking with me relying more and more on my trekking poles. There was more climbing in this section than I expected, with the infamous pole line downhill towards the end. I never really stopped going forward, but I was true to my Instagram handle, the mountain snail. It was a grind up until the pole line with the famous 1,000 feet down in a mile, which is more of a controlled slide through manzanita brush. As we entered Incline Village, we caught up to a runner on the bike path into Village Green aid station, whom we chatted with as we all walked it in. There was a highlight at the aid station when a friend, Ken Flurry, paid a visit just to say hello. With Ken and the rest of my crew there, which will be the last time I see them all together until the finish, it did lift my spirits up one very small notch. Here, Colbert will be taking over pacer duties until the finish line. At this point, with less than an hour of sleep in 55 hours, I am at a level of struggle I have never felt before. But we march on.
Village Green to Spooner Summit
I pick up Colbert to finish the race with him as my pacer at Village Green. With me knowing a 7-mile grind up to Marlette campground is coming, my spirits are low. Colbert keeps the mood light and funny all the way to the campground because he knows that I am physically and mentally crushed at this point. I take two 10-15 minute naps while climbing up to Marlette campground because my body just quits working at times. I can’t really explain the feeling, but it is like my body is sending signals to my muscles out of order. If you had seen me, you would have thought I was a little tipsy. The one thing, though, through all the sleep deprivation, my mind’s decision-making was never affected to the point of worry. I was a whiny baby at this point, and saying sorry to Colbert for being slow so many times that it had to be annoying. We reached Snow Valley Peak just after sunset, with a 6-mile downhill to Spooner Summit aid station, and I’m so depressed that I can’t run one inch at this point. It is crushing not to be able to run my favorite section of the Tahoe Rim Trail. During this time, Colbert talks to me about his younger self growing up and all the stupid things that he did in his earlier life. He does this because he knows I am at the point of huddling up to sleep and never waking up again. As we get closer to Spooner, I just stare at Colbert’s feet, walking forward to numb some of the pain. When we finally make it to the aid station, Colbert and I discuss something drastic: to sleep for a couple of hours. It is not ideal to be 17-18 miles from the finish and fall even further behind in the race, but I can’t continue without trying a new strategy.
I am saving the finishing miles of the race because something happens that is incredible. It is amazing what the human body is capable of, and if I didn’t have a witness with me, you would never believe it happened. Sorry for the long post, but this should be the last one.