Struggling through the Bear
For the last three miles stopping is all that has consumed my thoughts. I am not sure why exactly, which is probably the most frustrating part of it all. Maybe I got a little too hot climbing out of Cowley and I probably fell behind with hydration, but honestly my legs feel okay; I'm not bonking, but the will to go on is just lacking. John Fitzgerald, from Montana, runs by, asks if I'm okay and the only response that comes to mind is that my head is broken. He runs on and I stop and sit on the edge of the creek. I take off my pack, then my socks and shoes, and then I jump into the beaver pond just above my stopping point. I spend only a moment in the water and I am too cold to keep swimming. I put on my shoes and shuffle my way to Temple Fork aid station, where my super crew is waiting.I have had an amazing summer. I raced Transvulcania, Bighorn, Speedgoat, El Vaquero, and the The Rut. I paced Ty at Hardrock, ran the Idaho 12ers with Jared, traversed the King's Trail in Sweden with Krissy and Fred, and now the Bear. I knew I would be a little tired, but I figured with lots of miles on the legs I could put together a solid performance to cap the season. I was even brazen enough to think I should go after Chris Kollar's course record. To clarify, my number one goal with any ultra is to finish, then comes a lengthy list of additional goals that are only sought after if the "day" is happening. If things fall apart subsequent goals are thrown out the window until sometimes only the goal of finishing remains.As I stood at the starting line of the Bear I fully had the intention of chasing the CR splits until I either crossed the finish line ahead of them or until I blew up. It was a horrible race strategy, but I had convinced myself it was possible. Off I went, or I should say we went; a small group formed on the ascent up Logan Peak and we ran "comfortably" up one of the largest climbs of the race. At the Logan Peak Aid Station we were 3 minutes ahead of schedule. A quick bottle fill and on we went. I felt pressure to keep pushing even though I had already built a buffer. Our group stayed pretty close to each other all the way to Leatham Hollow, now almost 10 minutes ahead of schedule.
Tanae and the girls (super crew) were there. They helped me change shirts, reload my pockets and bottle, and got me on my way. One runner fell back while Nick and I pushed on up the road; another 2 minutes ahead for a total of 15 when we surprised the volunteers at Richards Hollow, who were still setting up. On the climb Nick fell back a little. I was leading, feeling good, eating well, drinking well, it was going to be my day!
Or maybe it wasn't. I caught Phil Lowry on the climb up to Cowley, he offered encouragement, and I pushed on. At the top it felt like the temps really increased, I should have slowed down, but instead I pushed a little harder. Cowley aid station came into view, I was really hot, all alone out front. I should have relaxed but instead I pushed.
When I came into the aid station super crew was there to swap my bottles, and Roch hit me with ice and sun screen.
I hustled to leave. There is a long double track climb from the aid station on which I felt really thirsty and hot. The single bottle I was carrying was emptying far faster than it should have been. I had to start rationing to make sure I would have enough. I was still ahead of Chris's splits. I should have relaxed, backed off. Instead I pushed, but my body rebelled. My legs started to feel heavy, it was hard to run the uphills, but then I topped out. "All downhill to Right Hand Fork aid", I told myself. Then Pierre caught me. Someone might as well have taken away my birthday. I tried to rally and run with him, but he just rolled away. I cursed my situation; no water, hot, and still a couple of miles from the next aid.
When I finally arrived at Right Hand Fork I was in trouble. I had given back a lot of time, but was determined to put things back together and rally. I jumped in the creek, drank two whole bottles of water, Tanae filled my Ultraspire Alpha pack with ice water, I got hugs from the girls, some encouragement from Roch, and finally got moving. I had slipped to 3rd. During the short out-and-back just outside of the aid lots of runners had closed the gap; this got into my head. I was still hot, but I was able to move pretty well. I pushed for a bit to try to make up some time and then, then the wheels came off.It happened all of the sudden. I was running and then I was walking. I didn't care. Many runners passed. It didn't matter. I slowly walked on. Then, I went swimming. After the swim I decided that at Temple Fork (mile 45ish) I would pull the plug. I justified to myself that it had been a great summer, lots of fun adventures and racing, and I didn't need this. Tanae wouldn't have any of it. At the aid station she quickly swapped gel, filled the pack, and encouraged me to get moving. Roch and Karl piped in as well, and honestly after a little Red Bull courage, and lots of tough love, I got up intent on not quitting.
I had a great patch climbing from Temple Fork to Tony Grove. I was actually able to run most of the ascent; my motivation returned. I smiled, and more than anything, I enjoyed the fall colors and the beautiful scenery. I think I was able to make up some ground, but I only caught back up to one or two runners. I came into Tony Grove, and it was great to see the crew. I was feeling better mentally and moving okay. After a few minutes of getting things swapped I headed out on the wave of adrenaline that I get every time I leave an aid station. A few miles passed and the mental gremlins started creeping in again, and by the time I came into Franklin Basin aid I was 75% certain that I would pull the plug.
I sat down in a chair at the aid station and told Tanae I was done. She simply replied, "no you aren't", and she went about swapping gels, getting lights ready, and adding a long sleeve shirt to my kit. Roch pulled out some strong reasons of why I needed to get out of the chair and get moving. He said that Anna Frost was due in any minute and if I didn't move she would surely catch me. This kind of motivated me, but not enough to get me out of the chair. Then he pulled out the big one, my daughters. He looked me in the eye and said you can't quit in front of them as he pointed to Brynlee and Chloe. My two little girls who had been drug through the mountains all day just to wait hours for me to arrive and in seconds leave again. They support me more than I could ever deserve. He was right.
I stood up, gathered my self, hugged the girls, and walked out of the station. Roch walked with me for a bit. I gripped about how I felt. He brushed the complaints aside and told me to get after it.For the next 40 minutes I slowly walked uphill. I forced in as many calories as I could stomach and then I decided enough was enough. I started to run, slowly at first, then a little faster. I was just starting to find my stride when I looked back to see Roch and Anna at the far end of the meadow closing on me. This was the last bit of motivation that I needed. It was time to cut the negativity, brush off the demons, and get to the task at hand. I firmly decided that I was going to have a good run to the finish. I didn't grapple with the idea of suffering, or giving up. I put it aside and ran. Almost immediately I felt better and had a bit of pep in the legs. The light was starting to soften as the sun got low in the sky. The Aspens, dressed in full fall splendor, brought a huge grin to my face, a cool breeze brushed my face, and I felt happy to be in the mountains.Logan River aid station came and went, then darkness settled in. Not too long ago I was quite scared of running in the dark, alone, in the mountains. This would be the first time I was running a hundred miler without a pacer. I found myself very comfortable in the dark, the beam of my headlamp opening the path ahead of me. Jason Murphy caught me and we ran together all the way to Beaver Ski Lodge. It was great to share some time with him on that section and keep my mind a bit distracted. On the grass of the ski area I sat down and ate some delicious warm broth. Karl Meltzer was helping Tanae crew and he mentioned to me that I was only 30 or so minutes behind the top three runners. They were pretty much together and he said they all looked a little rough around the edges. He then looked me in the eye and said, " You are still in this." He mentioned that even though I had felt pretty low for quite a while that I hadn't really lost much ground.That was enough to motivate me to get moving. I gave Tanae a kiss and hobbled down the hill (I had tightened up a lot sitting on the grass). Eventually I loosened up and was able to run again. I put in the headphones and cranked up the playlist I had prepared before the race. Fueled by the Offspring, Pennywise, Bad Religion, and the occasional blue grass song, I put away the miles as quickly as I could. Honestly I felt better at this point in the race than I had for at least the last 50 miles. When I got to Gibson Basin Aid station I got word that I was only about 15 minutes back from the runner in 3rd. After a quick hit of some broth I set out, hoping to catch a glimpse of headlights.I never did see any, but when I rolled into the Beaver Creek Aid station and met Tanae she grabbed my pack to refill it and said in a low voice "Pierre is still here". She then went about the transition. Pierre left while we where situating things, but had only a couple of minutes on me. I felt like I still had a lot left in my legs and decided to push just a little harder. I caught Pierre about a mile and a half outside the aid station; he wasn't feeling well. I slowed and we talked for a few minutes and then I offered some encouragement and pressed on. I thought that I would maybe be able to hold on to third, and considering my demons earlier in the day, that would make for a pretty good race.Ranger Dip aid station came into view faster than I expected it to. I first saw Roch and then Tanae, both seemed a little surprised to see me. Tanae said that Jason had left maybe five or six minutes ahead of me and wasn't moving too fast. It was lightly raining. My stomach had grown tired of gel so I asked Tanae to fill my hand bottle with coke and with a kiss I set off. One steep climb and a long descent was all that was between me and the finish. It was time to burn down the barn. At the top of the climb I paused for a moment and reminded myself, out loud, of the advice Roch had given me as I walked out of the last aid station, "Descend like Bode." I knew what he meant, it was time to let it all hang out and RUN down to Bear Lake. Maybe a half a mile or so into the descent I saw a headlamp, I quickly caught the runner. It was Jason Koop. He had taken a fall and was struggling to run like he normally does. He was very surprised to see me as the last time we crossed paths was when I was walking down the road some 65 miles previous. I commented that I was back from the dead, asked if he was okay, which he asserted he was, and then I proceeded my descent of reckless abandon.It was starting to rain a little harder, but it was only making the trail tacky. This allowed me to really trust my feet and roll down the descent. I know that if Jason rallied he was still within striking distance and so I harnessed a little bit of "run scared" and pushed hard. It took longer than I imagined in my mind but finally I came to the river crossing where, in 2008, during my first 100, I caught Leland. I smiled as I remembered that moment of running down to the finish of the Bear with the legendary Leland Barker and Fast Evan Honeyfield (my pacer) and I used that fond memory to fuel a strong finish.
Tanae and Catehrine were standing in the rain at the finish, along with Leland. I was so happy to see them. Tanae gave me a huge hug, and whispered in my ear that she was proud of me, and then retreated to our van to rest. Roch arrived shortly after, and also gave me a hug. His smile spoke volumes. It only took a minute to get cold and nauseated. Roch took over and got me laid in a cot and sipping on some Sprite. I was puked a few times and had started to feel a little better when the mighty Anna Frost finished. She had put in an incredible run and I was glad that I was there to hear her finish. She took the cot next to me for a few minutes before she had a little puke session of her own. I dozed off for a few minutes, and woke to an empty tent and pouring rain.I hung around the finish the rest of the night and pretty much the whole next day. It was so inspiring to see runner after runner roll into the finish. The conditions got very difficult during the night as the rain continued and the trails that I had enjoyed as tacky turned into long, brown slip-n-slides. The toughest runners of us all rolled in as the 36th hour approached. I couldn't help but reflect on how much stronger they are than I. I was also able to witness Ty come into the finish of his Double Bear 200 mile effort. He looked so good! Truly a monumental effort on his part.It took me until now, more than two weeks after the race, to process the day that I had out there enough to write about it. I had to work through more demons during this race than ever before. I have suffered more in other races due to fitness or injury, but battling off the mental weakness was nearly too strong to overcome. I am so glad I had the unrelenting support of Tanae, Chloe, and Brynlee. I also would not have pressed on without Roch and Karl's wisdom and motivation. I love how our tribe rallies around each other during these tests of will, and with that help even what seems insurmountable can be overcome. I have much to be grateful for and many people to thank, particularly those mentioned above. I also need to thank the good folks at Patagonia, Ultraspire, First Endurance, and Smith for helping me keep the dream alive all summer.Now it's time to take some time off, recover, and plan the next round of adventures.