The sun had just fallen below the horizon on Friday evening as I drove up the 5 freeway. Next to me in the front seat was my running/hiking backpack, stuffed full of provisions. My plan was to drive up to Lake Tahoe and run through the night into the morning without sleeping. I passed through Sacramento, Auburn, Truckee, and drove past the renowned Squaw Valley Ski Resort before eventually arriving in Tahoe City. When I rolled into town, the neighborhood was quiet and many of the establishments that lined the streets had shut down for the night. I soon encountered an unexpected problem; finding a place to park my car overnight. That's not as insignificant as it may sound. I knew where I wanted to begin and end my run and the shortage of available parking in the area was throwing a wrench in my plans. Many of the residential streets had posted signs that didn't allow parking and the public lots near downtown did not allow overnight parking. After driving in circles for nearly thirty minutes, I was eventually able to find a side street off highway 28 in downtown that had available street parking near a baseball field. I began preparations for my all night rally through Tahoe, filling the internal bladder of my pack with water, layering up with warm clothing, strapping on my Vibrams, and gathering food and supplies. The thermometer on my dashboard read that the temperature outside was thirty degrees. Perfect. Even though the Tahoe Rim Trail 100 is run in July, it is not uncommon for temperatures in the mountains to plunge into the thirties in the dead of night, even in the middle of summer. The temperature was forecasted to hover right around the thirty degree mark throughout the night. Additionally, the elevation of the route that I was going to run averaged around 6,500 feet. I had designed this training run to acquaint my body with running an ultramarathon distance at relatively high elevation in below freezing temperatures straight through the night without sleep. I was essentially trying to kill three birds with one stone, so to speak.
The frigid midnight air came pouring in as I opened the door to my car and stepped out. I threw on my pack, switched on my headlamp and flashlight, queued up my Strava app, and took off. My planned route was pretty straight forward. I would run down highway 28, head left onto highway 89, which followed the west shore of Lake Tahoe, run down the road until I hit seventeen and a half miles, turn around, and head back the way I came. I chose this particular route knowing that is showcased astounding views of Lake Tahoe and had great alpine scenery. Heading down the road through downtown, there seemed to be no one around, until I saw two girls and a guy on the sidewalk up ahead. They looked to be in their mid to late twenties. One of the girls extended her leg off the curb like she was going to cross the street, but then decided it wasn't a good idea and brought her leg back, stumbled backwards, and almost fell as the guy held her up. I had a pretty good idea of where these guys had just come from. Her focus shifted towards me as I glided by. "You're doing a great job! We're proud of you!" she slurred. Although she was inebriated and had no idea who I was or what I was doing, I could tell that she was intrigued by the idea of someone running at 1:00 in the morning and her words were delivered with seemingly good intentions. I smiled and thanked her. Making a left onto highway 89, I headed south down the side of the road towards the town of Homewood. Leaving Tahoe City, the road became more desolate, and as I came around a bend, Lake Tahoe appeared to my left. The water was smooth as glass with lights shining along the shore and massive mountain peaks dominating the distant horizon along the whole circumference of the lake . "Wow!" I said to myself out loud. This was my very first time seeing this lake in person and I was astounded by its beauty even though it was dark outside. I couldn't wait to see what it looked like in daylight on my return trip. Arriving in Homewood, the welcome sign along the roadside was almost completely buried in snow. I ran past Homewood Mountain Resort, which includes several ski runs facing the lake, offering incredible views. After passing by a fire station, a couple of restaurants, a boat shop, and a small store, I continued down the road towards the next town of Tahoma. Leaving Homewood behind, the road again became more desolate. One of my main concerns when planning this run was my safety. In order to make myself noticeable to motorists, I wore a reflective running vest, a blinking headlamp, reflective ankle bracelets, and carried a flashlight with a blinking red light on the back of the handle. Since I was running in the middle of the night, I assumed traffic would be minimal, but I was pretty lit up and hard to miss. The few cars that drove by me were obviously aware of my presence, and cruised past me slowly. It was an absolutely gorgeous night. As I ran, I periodically looked up towards the tops of the tall pine trees that lined the road on both sides and was in awe of the cloudless, star filled night sky. Every hundred yards or so there was a house, cabin, or condo building along the side of the road, some sporting colorful Christmas lights. On the left side of the road I would periodically see gates marking the edge of a driveway that led through the trees to a property on the shore, some two or three hundred feet away. I was relieved to see these properties lining the road, along with a street light every quarter of a mile or so. Having never been here before, I assumed the road on the outskirts of these small towns on the west shore would be much more rural. As the concern for my safety eased, I continued to admire the sky and thought about where I was at that moment. My mind and spirit were filled with euphoria, and my running felt effortless. I was going at a modest pace and I felt as if I could glide forever. The lake emerged again through the trees. On the distant shore were two bright lights shining from a mountain summit. I assumed it was a ski resort but wasn't entirely sure. Running with the lake shore to my left and a ten foot snow bank to my right, I decided to switch off my flashlight so I could enjoy purity of the night.
After passing through Tahoma, I switched my flashlight back on and continued to enjoy the marvelous surroundings. But as I continued down the road through Meeks Bay, I noticed something somewhat troubling. There were no longer any houses or buildings along the road. In fact, no lights or reflectors either. Although traffic had been very light, over an hour had passed since I had seen a car on the road, and the nearest town was now miles away. My Strava tracking app read that I had a little less than a half a mile before the turnaround point. Although this route only had modest elevation gain, I had been running up an incline on the road for what seemed like a while, and I slowed my pace to conserve energy. It was just after 5:00 AM when I reached the turnaround point. I made a U turn and began heading back when I felt a mounting soreness on my inner left foot. There was friction between my shoe and an area of my foot where I had gotten a blister recently. I stopped and sat on the roadside, removed my shoe, and applied some Body Glide to the tender area. Unfortunately, the fix was only temporary and the discomfort returned after a mile or so. The pain wasn't excruciating and was more of a nuisance than anything, so I just ignored it and kept running. There wasn't much I could do about it anyway. "Suck it up, Buttercup" I said to myself. As time passed and miles were covered, drowsiness began to take over. Running through the night with no sleep was a new experience to me, so I kept telling myself that this reaction was normal and that I would feel more energized once the sun came up. Step by step, I plodded along, trying to remain focused. Coming back into Meeks Bay, I could see the first rays of the morning dawn lighting up the eastern skyline behind the mountains across the lake. I had thoroughly enjoyed the stellar night that I had, but I was now ready for some daylight. As the morning sun turned the sky orange and blue, my mounting drowsiness went away. The arrival of a new morning after running all night had my excitement and energy levels firing, and a wide smile spread across my face. By the time I reached Homewood, the sun had made its way into the sky and the view of the lake from the shore was simply spectacular. I paused briefly to take some pictures before continuing on. To my delight, the small store near Homewood Mountain Resort that I had seen the night before was open. I headed for the entrance and as soon as I walked through the door I saw what I was hoping they had. "Coffee! Yes!" I said as I walked up. There was another guy making himself a cup of brew and he chuckled at my excitement. We chatted for a few minutes and he introduced himself as Brian. He was an Army veteran from Auburn who was taking some time to travel the country before settling back into his life before joining the military. He seemed intrigued by my adventure when I explained to him that my joyful reaction to the presence of coffee was brought on by the fact that I had been running all night. I exited the store with a smile, sipping my hot cup of heaven and eating a banana as I walked down the roadside. A little while later as I ran the final miles of my journey, Brian caught up with me in his Jeep and jokingly asked if I was sure I didn't want a ride. I laughed as we parted ways, and I soon arrived in the outskirts of Tahoe City. I finally reached the junction where the road met up with highway 28, turned right, ran past the area where the drunk girl gave me kudos the night before, and arrived back at my car, completing the thirty-five miles. I threw my arms in the air in celebration and let out a couple of hoots as I took the final steps.
Thirty minutes later, I sat in a cozy breakfast restaurant with a plate of hot pancakes in front of me. As I enjoyed this delicious meal, I thought about how great of an adventure it had been. Seeing Lake Tahoe up close and personal for the first time was incredible in it of itself, but I had gotten everything I wanted out of this run. I was creative and imaginative, and my goal was to alter my typical long distance training to prepare for other obstacles that the Tahoe Rim Trail 100 would present, and I had done just that. I sat there feeling a little less anxious about the race and thinking, yes, I could do this. Hopefully what my gut was telling me was right, but time will tell.
