Tahoe 200 Race Report-Part 1

*Note-the preamble is somewhat long-winded.  After all, the Tahoe 200 was a journey, not some weekend race I signed up for on a whim...

Surprisingly, the first time I read about the Tahoe 200 in Ultrarunning magazine, I brushed it off as an afterthought.  Still struggling to feel "comfortable" at the 100 mile distance preoccupied my psyche.  That was in November 2014, and after losing the Western States Lottery (again), I looked a little harder at 2015 goals.  One day an email showed up in my inbox about the lottery for Tahoe 200.  Same routine as Western States...1 week window to sign up, then cross your fingers and hope to be chosen out of the basket of hopefuls.  Last year's race sold out in a couple days, so I thought this year would sell out sooner (yes, indeed, there is a DEMAND for insane ultra events; I'm not the only crazy one out there).  I re-read the ultra running article and web-surfed for other news of Tahoe 200.  I watched an hour video by Kerry Ward, read a blog entry from Johnny Burton, found the split data at Ultralive.net, and read a couple other blurbs.  The wonder and awe of Lake Tahoe captivated me, and I was hooked on the Tahoe 200.  So I signed up and crossed my fingers that I'd get my name picked out of the hat.

Turns out the max number of entrants did not signup, so I was "automatically" entered into the race for 9/11/15!!  As of that day, Jan 15, 2015, I chose not to shave until after the race.  Why?  The beard was my partner--a daily reminder of thoughtful conjecture on how I could finish the Tahoe 200.  I thought about what I ate, how much I slept, how much I ran, where I ran, cross-training, how much beer can I drink.  Other questions:  how do I train for a 200 mile race?  What about altitude?  Only about 20 miles of flat terrain, what about 180 miles of up and down?  Sleep deprivation training?  Diet?  Gear?  Night running?  GPS/directions?  And on and on...

First up:  Training.  Getting those miles in.  Loathing the indoor treadmill or mouse-track at the local YMCA, Michigan winters proved to be challenging to say the least.  Didn't matter what the weather bestowed, I was out in the elements no matter what.  Slush, lung biting cold, ice, snow-storm, it all hardened my Michigan ass.  My work schedule rotates on a 2-week basis, so here's what a 2-week stint in January looked like:

Week     Sun  Mon  Tues  Wed  Thurs  Fri  Sat   Total
1              8      3       18       8      --        10   --      47
2              8      --      13       5      --        15   --      41




Add a couple miles on that long Tuesday run and I was up to 30 miler by April.  I mixed in some X-country skiing, ice skating, snow boarding, and Fat Tire bicycling into the mix for fun.  I planned on racing 2 100 milers before the Tahoe 200 in Sept.  The Indiana Trail on April 19 and another one somewhere in the middle of April and Sept.  Had a strong 3rd finish in Indiana, but in the end was disappointed with my puking at mile 70.  Also thought about how miserable I felt after 100 miles and what the heck was I going to do for a 200 miler?!

8 Degrees on this morning run.

Typical trail running in January

April 2015: Barry-Roubaix bike race-2nd place tandem!  1st place 2014, 2nd 2013.

Need...more...miles.  Thought about running up to my parents house north of Manistee (163 miles), but I've done that on a bike before.  Then I looked at the map of Michigan and plugged in Onekama, MI to city directly across the state, Tawas.  150 miles.  Perfect!  Picked a weekend in July and plans were made to leave Onekama/Lake Michigan at 4am and arrive sometime 2 days later in Tawas/Lake Huron.  It was a great training run to get over the 100 mile "hump" and run into the night.  Also on my mind was how my body would react to 1-3 hour down time followed by jumping back into a run. Surprisingly, this went well!  A little rickety at first, but 20 min in at 3am my body responded like an autopilot.  By the time Tahoe 200 started, I had logged almost 1500 miles of running and 1800 miles of cycling.  Since January 1, longest runs were 150, 100, 50, then about 12-15 runs of 20-30 miles.  Average "light" day was a 10 mile run, with hills.

Well into the Shore to Shore 150

July 17, 2015:  Ran 150 miles in 36hrs.  3hrs sleep.  $4,000+ raised for Helen DeVos Children's Hospital

Any sane person focused on a 200 miler would then have recovered in a reasonable amount of time, then resumed a moderate running schedule in prep for the big event.  I ended up drinking beer every day and sitting on my ass for the next 5 weeks.  No, not couch potato, but driving 5,000 + miles out to the beautiful Northwest in our family motorhome.  Great 3 week reunion trip with fellow bike riders from Odyssey 2000 and folks in Seattle.  Highlights include Bend, Crater Lake, Oregon Coast, Portland, Mt. Hood, Mt. St. Helen's, Mt. Rainer, Bainbridge Island, Seattle, Banff, Lake Louise, and Glacier National Park.  I placated my fears of lack of running with notion that we did several hikes at "elevation"--like 4,000-5,000 ft.  Wow!  Altitude acclimation!!  Hah.

Shenanigans at Lake Louise, Alberta

Family at Lake Louise, Alberta.  Gorgeous!

Elevation Training...followed by BEER.

Back from our exciting RV trip, I focused not on distance but on hills, hills, and more hills (or at least what East Grand Rapids, MI had to offer).  I ran almost every day from Aug 23-Sept 7, mostly hill repeats and some speed work.  And, yes, I was a little sore after a couple of those days, which had me worried.  But I stayed the course and just tried to remember all the running I had done earlier in the year and all those wintry, cold as hell days I plugged through in Jan/Feb.

Finally the time was upon me!!  Sept 9 I flew out to Reno, got a ride from my friend Jason from Odyssey 2000, then spent 2 days in Tahoe City before the race on 9/11/15.  Such a beautiful area!!  Loved watching the sunrises and sunsets on Lake Tahoe.  The air was hot and extremely dry, felt like I could start a fire just shuffling my feet too hard.  Truckee river was dry as a bone, and any trail I explored was dry and dusty.  Did all the pre-race check-in procedures and met some fellow runners and staff.  One of the things I love about ultra running is the supportive, encouraging, small town feel of the people involved.  We all had nervous jitters, but we seemed to all be in this together and all want everyone else to succeed.

Let's see, before I get started on the race, remember all those specific questions about Tahoe 200?  Diet?  Gear?  Altitude acclimation?

FOOD:  Let's start with diet.  Since I started ultra racing back in 1988, I adopted the mantra of eating fuel to feed the working body.  If you burn x amount of calories per hour, you need to replenish (eat) x number of calories per hour.  Over the years I'd say I vomited roughly 50% of all my races.  Sometimes at the end, sometimes in the middle.  Usually it'd happen about 6-8 hours into the race, sooner if it was hotter rather than cooler.  I tried every goo, drink, gummy, powder, capsule, regular food known to man.  Nothing seemed to expedite clearing the stomach better than another thing.  The only consistent method of keeping stomach contents down and absorbed was SLOWING DOWN.  Ugh.  These are RACES, so slowing down is a really tough option.  I'm running, not walking.  A couple years ago  I read about a high-fat diet, the so called Atkin's diet extreme, and usefulness in athletes.  I brushed it off as a fad diet and never thought about it much, until (again) Ultrarunning wrote a great article on the concept.  The also referenced the book, "The Art and Science of Low Carbohydrate Performance" by J. Volek and S. Phinney, which I read and soaked in.  The Keto Diet dictates 80-90% daily calories from fat.  HOW in the world can I do that?  In January, I went all in and gave it a go.  Surprisingly hard to do, as everything seems to have some bits of carbohydrate mixed in.  Avocados?  15grams.  Whole milk?  16grams.   Peanut Butter? 10grams.

Breakfast of Champions

Goal was to keep carbs below 50grams per day.  Suffice to say, I was able to get going and by March I was on cruise control with the Keto-Diet.  Plenty of websites, recipes, and books out there on this diet.  April was my first race on this fad diet.  I already had a good feeling for this diet:  never really hungry, could go a day without eating, didn't bring any food on my training runs.  It was liberating not to be worried about or tied to food.  The Indiana Trail run consisted of 16.7 mile loops; 100 miles was 6 of these loops.  There were 3 aid stations within the loop.  I ran through each one sipping on a small cup of coke and drinking a couple cups of water.  Maybe once I had some peanuts.  All in all, I'd say I had about 1000 calories over the 18hr of racing (had a can of corned beef hash for breakfast-750 cal).  However, still threw up at mile 70 (like last year).  Mostly water and some sweet candy (Spree), but got up and ran again after 15 min of being down.  I'd have to say the diet was a success.  Ran with the same diet on the Cross -Michigan Shore-to-Shore...about 1500 calories consumed (coke, cheese, salami, ham) over 36 hours, burned over 18,000 calories.  Lost almost 12 pounds.  But never felt nauseous nor tired.   The books recommend 3-4 weeks of Keto eating before body adapts to taking fat stores for fuel, so I was pushing that time frame upon returning from my beer and butt-sitting northwest excursion. Nevertheless, I clamped down on carbs and ate fat like no man has ate fat before in weeks leading up to Tahoe 200.

GEAR:  With extensive 24-72hr adventure race experience, I knew just how difficult night running can be to stay on course.  Mix in sleep deprivation, electrolyte imbalance, dehydration, possible altitude sickness and you have a hot soup mix to make a 205 mile run into a 250 mile run.  I think I would have cried if I lost my way and ran 1 inch beyond the official 205 mileage.  So I armed myself with the Garmin Epix watch and ETrex 30 GPS hand held device.  My light was a good size 3xAA Peztl Evo to capture those tiny reflective strips.  With Maryam coming in a day after the race started, I only had 1 bag drop which I set at Heavenly, mile 105.  So the first 100 miles I had to carry everything--Jacket, long sleeve shirt, gloves, hat, batteries, headlamp, food (peanut butter pouches, trail butter, spree candy, slim jim), water, iPhone + battery, blister kit.   Thought about cramming in a pair of socks and more food (salami, candy), but thought again as I slung the 15 pound backpack over my shoulder.  For the most part, the trails were pretty conspicuous.  Skinny pink ribbons with reflective stickers close-pinned to tree branches every 1/4 mile or so marked the route.  But for those 10-15 times of trail splits or no-shows on the ribbon, I was sure glad to have the Garmin devices.  Very reassuring and comforting to see my little icon follow the purple line on the screen.  Not to say technology is all perfect and reliable; indeed the Epix froze around mile 150 forcing me to do a hard re-boot (losing all my run data and maps) and the ETrex had about 1000 little flags (waypoints) on the purple route lines that cluttered the screen to point of illegibility.

ALTITUDE:  Western Michigan is on average 750 feet above sea level.  The Grand River dominates as the predominant geographical feature, creating some modest hills and grades.  Lake Tahoe Basin rests at 6,300 feet above sea level; all roads and trails leaving the basin go UP, A LOT.  The Tahoe Rim Trail caps out at 9,300 ft and most of trail undulates between 7,000-9,000 feet above sea level.  I felt like a pipsqueak runner jumping into a Goliath of ultra running.  How could I not be intimidated by the climbing and elevation?  Here's the summary for the section between Housewife Hill to Armstrong Pass:  6500 ft to 9400ft, 12 mile climb, 4300ft climbing to aid station.  That's miles 70-82.  Wee hours of the morning.  Or at mile 170 Tahoe City to Rideout:  15 mile run with 10 miles uphill for 3,000ft of climbing 6,200 ft to 8,400 ft.  Quivering in my boots.  I thought about one of those altitude acclimation masks, but didn't want to fork over $80.  And I'm out here running to enjoy the natural world around me, breath in the fresh forest air, not my own sweaty breath.  I arrived in Tahoe City on Wed, Sept 9 and went on a couple jogs/walks and just crossed my fingers that I'd muster through.  My plan was to keep a very close eye on my heart rate and keep it at the same rate I had for the cross-Michigan run (125-130).  Whatever the pace, is whatever the pace.

Sunrise over Lake Tahoe 9/10/15 (from Tahoe City)

Sulphur Springs Start Line 2013

THE RACE:  Similar to almost all other racing events I've participated, I had 3 main goals:  be safe, finish, and win...something...age group, previous record for 45yr old, negative split the 100, overall winner, anything.  The last goal was just icing, and most of the time I can do without icing.  Just focus on finishing and finish strong.  I tried my first 100 miler at Potawotamie Trail in Illinois spring of 2012.  I ran 3 x10 mile loops and DNF'd with megablisters, pummeled quads, and shivers as I curled into a fetal position muttering why  I was doing this.  On the drive back home I thought to myself, "Maybe I CAN'T run 100 miles."  Two weeks after that, I got pissed off for thinking that way, using the word, "can't" in any sentence.  So I signed up for another 100 miler in 2013:  Sulphur Springs 100 near Toronto.  I focused so hard on this run, using the failure a Pottawatomie to fuel me over all the hardships of training for the upcoming 100.  I finished strong with a time of 17h18min which I still have yet to beat.

Beast Of Burden-Erie Canal 12.5 miles back and forth x8

Beast of Burden-I succumbed to the heat

Trying to explain DNF at Kettle Morraine to my son Oscar

With success, I signed up for a summer race and a fall race 2013.  The summer race, Beast of Burden on the Erie Canal in New York, I DNF'd at mile 37.5.  Puked and never recovered.  Going back to the drawing board with a vengeance in September, I entered the Mark Twain 100.  Another DNF.  This time after 50 miles.  My quads were shot and a puke again at mile 40.  I did learn a valuable lesson from this race:  don't bomb down the hills.  These hills were short and rocky, so lot's of hop-scotching down the grades.  Great pace, but dumb.  This DNF really deflated me and I thought I was done with ultra running.  Just didn't want to run in that kind of pain anymore.  I even threw out a few of the Ultrarunning magazines (which I covet so much I have them all stashed in a special spot in my house).

Nervous smile day before Tahoe 200

True to form, beaten down but not beaten, I thought 2014 would be the big year indeed:  the Midwest 100 miler Grand Slam  (+ the Indiana Trail 100).  Indiana Trail, Kettle Morraine, Mohican, Burning River, and Hallucination 100.  First race was the Indiana Trail in April 2014.  Success again!  I was actually leading that race for miles 60-70, but took my usual bow to the puke bowl and ended up finishing 3rd with time of 18h6m.  Kettle Morraine in June:  DNF.  Ugh.  Mile 67, pain, pain, pain.  No puke, but just sheer pain.  Wanted to spend more time with kids and stop jaunting all over doing these ultras.  Midwest Grand Slam was over.  So that put me at 6 tries at 100 milers:  4 DNFs and 2 official finishes.  Not good odds for the Tahoe 200.  I did have another success at Indiana Trail 2015 with time of 17h40min, good for 3rd place again, but not PR.  Much to my surprise, Ultrasignup ranked all the Tahoe 200 entrants based on finish times and places, and I was ranked 1st.  Although the math was solid, the reality of all the variables such as experience, location of person living, and veteran Tahoe 200 just couldn't fit into the "rankings".
Most of the runners signed up for Tahoe 200 were from West Coast, plenty of country to train in the mountains.  I tried not to let it effect me, but I was hopeful that if I just took it slow and stayed the course I could have a shot at a podium spot.

Then I saw this guy day before are day checking in--a late entrant not on the ultra signup list.  Paul Romero, number 100.  Wow.  He looked super fit, broad shouldered, tall, relaxed, cordial and confident.  I immediately thought, "Well, there's the winner of the race:  Mr. Spartacus."  I asked a few folks, "Wow, who's that guy?"  One racer said, "Oh, you don't know?  He's the founding father of 100 mile races.  He organized {such and such} race in Colorado."  And on race morning at the start line he shook hands with a slew of people that knew him.  He just seemed uber relaxed and ready for the task.  He didn't even have a back pack on, just a waste belt with goodies and some poles.  I thought about doing the same thing since the first checkpoint was only 7 miles away, but the 7 miles took almost 2 hours.  So off Spartacus went along with about 20 other runners gone up the trail out of site after a mile or so.

I was hoping for some cool, mountain fresh air for the Tahoe 200.  Mother Nature prepared a hot, dry, sun-searing 80-85 degree week of weather.  Man brought some wild fires off a 100 miles away that gave us some smoldering air, but I didn't seem to feel/smell it as much as others.  I did notice spectacular sunsets and sunrises.  Blazing crimson sun made my heart skip a beat during those twilight times.  I ran the first 1 mile of the race the day before the race, so I knew how bloody steep it was and to hold my adrenaline at bay.  Just slow, steady, power hike up the ski hills.  I'd say my pace was about 15 min/mile, and I arrived at the top of Mt. Baker, Ellis Peak with a pack of about 10 runners.  Met Matt from Bay Area, another guy using Tahoe 200 as resume run for Badwater 2016, a Japanese fellow who didn't speak much English but smiled profusely.  Two women were wearing shockingly bright shirts that were a good 20 min ahead of our pace.  I was pretty sure Spartacus was also long gone up the trail.

Ellis Peak

As I crested over Ellis Peak, a downhill came upon us and I started power hiking down, taking great care not to be tempted to run down the hill.  Why not?  The Devil spoke and said, "Your heart rate wouldn't give a signal of working too hard, and you could just use gravity for the momentum and speed.  Think of all the time you could gain from those slow laborious hill climbs!".

Rubicon Trail

As I learned from Mark Twain 100, I cannot/will not run down hills anymore, or at least save my legs for the final stretches of the race.  Many runners passed me on the downhills, but I didn't necessarily catch them on the uphills...I took it easy going up, just steady powerwalk.  If there was a flat part between grades, I'd get the jogging going--about 10-12 min/mile pace.  Ups I'd say I was at 18min/mile, downs around 15min/mile.  I learned a term from a race official, Richard Kessler, called "Douche Grade"  It's the grade where it's not steep enough to walk, but tantalizingly too steep to run, so you end up power hiking on what seems to be a douche grade.  Very annoying.  I also encountered several trail traits worth of "Douche Rocks."  These trail sections were relatively flat, so you think you can run, but the rocks were big enough and spread out just enough to make you do a hop-scotch dance if you chose to run.  Something I could not do at mile 140.  Mile 140 I had enough juice in the legs to do the Hollywood shuffle (13-14 min mile), that's about it.

Loved the section after Mt. Baker check point:  nice gradual descent that I did pick up the pace and felt confident I wasn't "bombing" down.  Had a couple more of these types of descents over the course.  Then we got into boulders and Rubicon.  The boulders were awesome!  The trail wound around/over smooth rocks and rounded boulders.  True to the legend and TV show, Rubicon proved very formidable to the Jeeps that attempted to pass.  Crazy stuff to run on as well; powdered sand crushed by the jeep traffic puffed all around my body---picture pig pen from Charlie Brown.  Some

Gridlock on the Rubicon

Not the fastest terrain to run on 

runners wore bandannas around their face.  I ran with gators for the first time.  I think it helped, but my Hokas had mesh top and sides that let in plenty of soot-soil.  I was entertained by all the jeep traffic.  Some needed winches hooked to a tree or other jeeps to get out of a run, some were stalled, some even had guys with tool chests tinkering with the underlying suspension right there on the trail.  Plenty of oil stains and smoothed over rocks/boulders/roots gave quite a site.  Found our way to Buck Island Lake for next checkpoint at mile 18 (Rubicon Aid).

Really started to heat up on way to Tell's Creek Aid station.  Very thankful the the water spigot at parking area around mile 25.  Water was deliciously cold!  My bladder and squishy waterbottle combined for total carrying capacity of 60oz.  At this point (7hrs/25miles) I had consumed about 120 oz of water, and 4oz coke.  No food yet (had breakfast burrito for breakfast at 7am).  Next several miles I ran with a group of 3 others; unfortunately, not very similar running styles.  I like power hiking up hills, gingerly hiking/jogging down, and jogging/running on flat/gentle grade down.  One guy ran/walk ran/walk on flats and ups, then ran down hills.  I have tried the run/walk around Reeds lake at home, but my body can't seem to get into that rhythm.  As a result, we were all passing each other here and there.  I chose to stop and take a panoramic picture, then slowly moved on.

At the next checkpoint,  Tells Creek at Mile 31, I quickly filled my water reservoirs and moved along.  Tried to swallow a peanut butter packet, but soon found out how futile that was going to be.  My mouth was already dry as a cotton ball.  In fact, I already nursed 2 bloody noses since the start (and had one the day before).  That shot down half my food stash of peanut butter and Trail Butter (espresso peanut/almond butter in a squeeze pouch).  Downed a couple slim-jims and tummy quieted down a little (just hunger gurgling).  Passed a couple more runners on way to next checkpoint, a nice man from Ohio and a young guy who was having some back pain.  Even though I had my headlamp with me, I'm glad to have made it to mile 44 checkpoint (Wright's Lake) just at sunset (saved time from stopping on the trail and tinkering).  Speaking of which, incredible view to the West with the sun washing the meadow all kinds of shades of orange.  Bright ball of fire kept popping out of trees saying to me, "Goodnight!  See you in the morning to heat your...feet!"

Still smiling--but blisters forming...

The volunteers at the aid station all clapped and rang cowbells.  Encouraged me to sit down, wash my feet if I wanted to.  Offered more things than I could have imagined; I settled on some beef ramen
noodles (thinking of my daughter and her love of chicken Ramen).  Filled waters, sipped on some beef broth, but couldn't down the noodles.  Had 2 small cups of coke, then ran off to continue the race.  Realized about 1 mile up the hill that I left my squishy waterbottle back at checkpoint.  RATS.  Ran back down hill to get the bottle and said my thank yous and goodbyes again.

1st night was upon me.  New moon gave little light, and heavy tree cover made for a dark, dark trail.  As I mentioned, trail was conspicuous for the most part, but there were some open boulder sections that I was constantly looking ahead for the happy little reflective flags.  It was like playing a game of Bingo every time I spotted one up the trail.  Sometimes I would just zone out and not think about the run, just stuff back at home, family, life, music, etc.  That could be construed as carelessness, for there were several times I thought, "Gee, when was the last time I saw a flag?  Oh, no, 1/2 hour?"  Panic stricken, I looked at my GPS gear and most of the time I was in the vicinity of the purple line, but maybe not on the line.  So for 5-10 minutes I'd get butterflies thinking I'd lost my way, only to be settled by a pink reflective siting up the trail.  As the race progressed, these fears became stronger and harder to deal with (especially at night).

Thank goodness for Pink Flags!

Made it to Sierra at Tahoe ski area by 1am.  Saw Spartacus running down the hill from the short out-and-back to the checkpoint.  Tried to give him a high-five, but he was coming down too fast and our headlamps were kind of blinding each other.  We both gave each other kudos and went on our way.  He had about 30-40min on me depending on how long he stayed at the checkpoint.  Sierra at Tahoe had some neat decorations with Christmas lights lighting the way into the Lodge.  Real Bathrooms!  Real soap and sink!  Full supplies and fresh cooked food!  I declined as usual on all the yummy treats, sipped on some Coke and had a couple slices of cheese.  People were so friendly and attentive to my every need.  I applaud and appreciate everyone's hard work.  A man name Lorenzo came and asked how my feet were doing.  "Any blisters or hot spots?  I can take care of those."  Indeed I had about 4 hot spots, but I taped every toe before the race and thought they'd be protected.  I thought about taking off, then I thought about 160 miles still to go.  Yes, I'd better let an person with experience take care of my hotspots.  We sat down and I gingerly took off my Hokas.  Sand just poured out like I was running on the beach all day.  My socks were stiff and stinky.  The tape I took such patience with looked mangled and tattered.  Ended up taking all the tape off except the big toes (still doing fine).  Both pinky toes had water blisters, blister forming just below toes on sole (new to me), and middle toes had beginnings of blisters.  I was surprised at this since the toes were taped with Kerlix.  I also dumped powder into my sock and lubed between my toes with Desitin.  Lorenzo took great care but was thorough in washing off dirt and applying tincture of Benzoin to get the new tape to stick.  20 min later, both my feet felt like bionic digits and I thought everything was good for next 140 miles.  (60 miles later I found I had more blisters and the current ones doubled in size).  Finally got up and left the aid station at 1:32 (for total of 38 min stoppage time).  Felt so good to wash my hands and splash water on my face!

Jog, Hop, Jog, Hop, repeat...

3rd place runner coming up to checkpoint as I ran down the hill.  We nodded at each other, then I veered off to follow the continuing route.  Just a short 8 mile jaunt over to House Wife Hill, and I made pretty good time of 2hrs, but didn't see my man in 1st.  I was thinking he was going to break this race wide open any time now.  Not that it mattered, I wanted to be unwavered and run on my own capabilities.  The race director, Candice and some other staff were at the remote checkpoint of HWH.  Such great energy from them; loved taking in their vibe and it got me going in no time.  Topped off supplies and got a baggy of 3 thick cut Tillamook sharp cheddar. Man I love Tillamook!!
Sunrise quickly came around 6am and like all the other ultras, the sun gave me a jolt of energy and wakefulness.

Smoky haze in the distance

Armstrong Summit was next aid station, and I would have thought it was another summit/uphill climb for an out-and-back similar to Sierra at Tahoe.  Nope.  Ended up going DOWN for a couple miles, which made for an annoying trek UP to rejoin the route.  Again I looked for Spartacus and wondered if he had already done his out-and-back.  About 5min in the trail to checkpoint, I saw Paul and his pacer.  We said hello and he looked fresh as he did at the start on Friday.  Still, I was encouraged that he was still only about 40 min ahead of me (as long as I didn't stop too long at CP).  Stopped just long enough to top off water bottles.  Asked about eggs and bacon, but too early yet for provisions of that sort.  They did have some monteray jack cheese which I took in a baggy.  Mmmmm....warm pocket cheese in a baggy.  My diet for next 40 hours....

Climbed out of Armstrong summit and didn't see any other runners, so felt I had a comfortable hold on 2nd place.  Still over 120 miles to go through some of the most difficult terrain and at least 1 more full night of running.  Although I thought about the mileage, it never once made me despondent or intimidated with questions like, "Wow, I have ONE HUNDRED AND ?? more miles to go? WTF?" or "Why am I doing this?  Jarring blister pain with every step, bruised feet, sore shoulders, slight nausea, cotton mouth, exhaustion, and not even half way...not gonna make it..."  I had worked too hard and braved tougher conditions to think punk-ass thoughts such as those.  I actually surprised myself how confident and focused I was to not get flustered the entire race.  Besides, I had my wife flying into town to join me in only a few more hours.

Sequoia Trees=Eye Candy

Loved, loved, loved the run from Armstrong into Heavenly.  Gorgeous boulders, whispering trees in the high alpine air, and a gentle downhill all the way to Heavenly was a great way to get the morning going.  The Sequois were scattered about like stewards of the mountainside, everlasting watchers.  Except some were twisted and toppled.  Some were on their way out.  Others were in a grove, protected by numbers.  I surmised that the fallen ones were subjected to extreme freeze/though cycles and the right formula took their life, for others remained strong and tall yet survived the same years of tumultuous weather.  Fascinating landscape, I was really enjoying this section and took many pictures.  A couple times I hit some long patches of "Douch Down-hills" where I'd have to hit the breaks and not get carried away.  I just walked quickly for a bit then started running again once grade became a little more reasonable.

Arrived at Heavenly a little after 1pm.  I had been texting Maryam when cell coverage was available.  Hoped she had an expedited flight-rental car-drive to Heavenly, but lines and timing made it so we wouldn't connect at Heavenly.  Drats.

Still stayed for almost an hour (longest stop of entire race) as I rifled through my drop bag.  I felt it was a lifeline as I could change socks, dump my jacket, shirt, and other non-essential gear (only dropped to 60 degrees first night; never needed any warm clothes).  As I took off my socks I noticed about 8 more blisters had appeared at various places on my feet.  Top of foot, heal, side of foot, between toes.  Some blood blisters, some water.  Foot was filthy and covered in weird combination of tape residue and soot.  Paul's crew was super friendly and offered me a soak basin, hoping that the dirt would magically fall off and I'd have nice fresh pink feet again.  I futzed around with the tape and tape gunk for a while, then said, "Screw it!"  I put on fresh socks, lightly placed my feet back into the Hokas (tried some New Balance 950s, but way way too tight in toe box), then started to pack up my drop bag.  I decided that from that point I'd keep the shoes and socks on all the way to the finish line, no matter what.  I talked to Maryam for a bit, requesting some V8, jerkey, and Starbucks double shots.  Said I'd see her at the next aid station, Spooner Summit.  Gee, only 4000 feet of climbing and 20+ miles away.  Spartacus had arrived at Heavenly 1hr before me and left shortly after I arrived, so he was a good hour ahead.  This is where I thought he was going to run away with the win...

To be continued