11:15 AM: I arrive in Auburn and pull into Black Bear Diner for a quick meal. Today I will not be participating in one of the many endurance events held in Auburn, but instead, I will be a spectator at perhaps the most noteworthy event that takes place in the area; the Western States Endurance Run. The Western States Endurance Run, commonly known as the Western States 100, or simply Western States, is held once a year on the third weekend of June, and is one of the longest standing ultramarathons held in the world. Initially a horse race, it transitioned into a footrace in 1977 and covers rugged terrain along the Sierra Nevada mountains between the start line at the base of the Squaw Valley Ski Resort and the finish line at the Placer High School track in Auburn. I've been heavily intrigued by this race for several years since reading about it in Dean Karnazes' memoir and have since made it a goal of mine to run it someday. Finishing the race is difficult enough, but due to the level of prestige that Western States holds, just getting in requires a great deal of effort. Before even registering, all potential entrants must complete a qualifying race. There are several ultramarthons throughout the United States and the rest of the world that are Western States qualifiers, however the minimum distance is one hundred kilometers, and runners must finish within a specific amount of time. Once runners qualify, they must also enter the lottery process. Out of the thousands who apply, four hundred runners are selected each year, and even for runners who have multiple qualifiers, the probability of being selected for first timers is low. It can take as long as seven years for some runners to get in. I myself had been denied in the lottery this particular year even though I had earned a qualifier, but like everything else in life that is worthwhile, I must keep trying.
12:35 PM: After driving down a desolate stretch of road through the wilderness, parking on the side of the street next to a rock wall, and walking about a half a mile down the winding road, I arrive at the small outpost of Michigan Bluff, mile fifty-five of the race. Several spectators line the sides of the street sitting on blankets and in camping chairs in front of small houses socializing and waiting for the leaders of the race to pass through. I walk down the street towards the Michigan Bluff aid station which is situated at the junction where the course leaves the trail for the pavement and continues down the street for about a hundred yards before picking up the dirt trail once again. From tracking the live results online, I learn that Jim Walmsley, a twenty-nine year old runner from Flagstaff, Arizona is in the lead and will likely be passing through within the next ten minutes. After spending a few minutes chatting with a few people in the crowd and scoping out the scene, I walk past the aid station and down the trail, where several photographers are anticipating Jim's arrival.
12:50 PM: The small crowd goes wild as Jim emerges from the trail and comes cruising through the aid station sporting a white Hoka shirt, displaying not one ounce of exhaustion. He spots his crew on the roadside and runs over to them, pausing for about ten seconds while they fill his hat with ice, before disappearing down the road and back onto the trail.
1:14 PM: Another round of applause erupts as second place runner Jared Hazen, twenty-four years old, also from Flagstaff, comes running through Michigan Bluff. Rocking a blue Hoka shirt and looking strong, he drenches himself in ice water with the help of an aid station volunteer. Temperatures at Western States can range from the high thirties at the summit of Squaw Valley early in the morning to the low hundreds in the notorious canyons section later on in the afternoon. Because of its length, the race starts at 5:00 AM and continues into the night, and into the following morning, with an 11:00 AM, thirty-hour cutoff. Michigan Bluff is nestled right in the middle of the canyons section and several runners are in dire need of aid by the time they arrive here. Luckily, today the temperature is unseasonably cool and has hovered in the mid to high seventies throughout the day. Despite the pleasant weather, Jim and Jared both opt for a cool down at this juncture to keep their momentum going. After a brief pause at the aid station, Jared hops back onto the course and takes off past the enthusiastic crowd, his long hair and clothes dripping with water, as he disappears back onto the trail.
1:58 PM: As I mingle on the trail a few hundred feet ahead of the aid station, photographers on the trailside gear up for the arrival of the female leader of the race, Courtney Dauwalter, a Minnesota native now residing in Golden, Colorado. Seconds later, she abruptly comes running through as cameras click and the small group gives her kudos on her performance. "Great job, Courtney!" I shout as she glides by. She replies with a "thank you!" and a smile as she continues to the aid station. What stands out to me the most about her is not only the fact that she's an amazing runner, but the fact that she is always smiling. Photographers have taken videos and pictures of her at start lines, finish lines, and even during the most difficult sections of races, and she always has a big smile on her face, no matter what. This, to me, speaks volumes of her love and dedication to the sport of ultrarunning. This encounter was no exception, and seconds later, another round of applause erupts at Michigan Bluff as she passes through and continues to the next check point.
3:20 PM: After spending more time cheering on runners and chatting with spectators, I decide to relocate to the next check point at Foresthill, a little over six miles down the course from Michigan Bluff, thirty-eight miles from the finish line. Between the two points, the dirt road leaving Michigan Bluff rolls up and down, banks right at the intersection with Gorman Ranch road, and continues onto single track trail through pristine, alpine wilderness. Once on the single track trail, runners drop 1,000 feet down the twisting course into Volcano Canyon, cross a small river, and climb up the switchbacks leading to another short section of road before arriving in Foresthill. As I arrive back at my car to leave, several cars are now lining both sides of the road as far as I can see, as spectators walk down the road, heading towards Michigan Bluff.
3:45 PM: The crowd at the Foresthill checkpoint goes wild in the distance as I walk over from my car. Upon arrival, I learn that the commotion was caused by Courtney's arrival, and that she had just departed. Jim and Jared had passed through about thirty minutes prior and were already making their way towards the river crossing in the valley. Foresthill's easy access by car and ample space for spectators to gather have lead to it being the largest and most popular check point of the course. The aid station is situated in the parking lot of the local elementary school, which has served as the start and finish line for many of the ultramarathons that I have run in the area. The school is located on a normally quiet two-lane road that passes through the heart of the town. The check point comes at the sixty-two mile mark of the race before continuing a half a mile down the road and onto the dirt trail once again. As I walk through the crowd of several hundred people, I recognize a group of runners from Texas whom I had met a month prior at the Western States training runs. Among the group is Laura, who is participating in the race, along with her support crew including Brian, who I had also met during the training runs. After we all greet each other, Laura informs me that she had to withdraw from the race after an unfortunate and painful accident. She goes on by telling me that she had sprained her ankle in the snowy terrain during the early stages of the race and shows me the surgical boot on her foot to validate her injury. Despite her bad luck, she remains optimistic, and Brian and I assure her that she can and should try the race again in the upcoming years. Minutes later, I learn by checking the live tracking feed that Kyle Robidoux, the first legally blind runner to ever attempt the race, who was being guided by ultrarunning veteran Scott Jurek, had also dropped out in the early stages, as the snowy conditions had proved to be too much. I think about how courageous he is for attempting the race and hope that he too will try again at some point.
4:15 PM: I catch up with Dusty Olson, who I had been hoping to meet at some point throughout the day. Noted for his long hair, tall stature, and his light-hearted attitude towards endurance sports and life in general, Dusty has been a well known character in the ultrarunning scene for years, despite the fact that his main passion is skiing and he runs ultras as a form of cross training. In the fall of 2002 he threw down an amazing seven hour and seventeen minute performance at a one hundred kilometer (sixty-two mile) road race in his native, Northern Minnesota. The race served as the 100K national championships that year, and his time qualified him for a trip to the world championships in Taiwan. Dusty declined the invitation, citing the fact that his passion is skiing and he would rather be knee deep in fresh snow on the slopes than competing in the 100K world championships. I love this story because it proves that he runs because he loves the sport, not because of the fame, exploits, and other trappings that come with being an elite endurance athlete. As we cheer on runners, Dusty and I chat about everything from ulrarunning to skiing to his struggle with Lyme Disease to the recent loss of one of his close family members.
6:20 PM: After a couple of hours of eye-opening, telling, and fun chit chat, Dusty and I part ways and I prepare to head off to the finish line at Placer High School. As I'm walking to my parked car on a side street a short distance from the school, I check the live tracking feed again. Jim and Jared are still in first and second place, respectively, and Courtney is still leading the female division, with Boulder, Colorado native Claire Gallagher following closely behind. Jim had won the race last year and set a new course record, and the way things are looking, he seems destined to do the same again this year, but the race isn't over until it's over.
7:09 PM, Placer High School, Auburn, California: The bleachers along the high school track are occupied by a few hundred spectators, all on their feet, as Jim and his crew enter the track for the final lap to the finish line. As I stand on the side of the track at ground level, Jim runs by high fiving spectators. Approaching the finish line, he leaps in the air in celebration, waving his arms around, causing the crowd to go even more crazy. He jumps through the finish tape, and as predicted, he wins the race for the second year in a row, finishing in fourteen hours and nine minutes, shattering the course record he set last year by twenty-one minutes. Jared finishes roughly fifteen minutes later, also breaking last year's course record. After their finishes, the local media outlets conduct interviews with each of them separately at the finish line. Watching these two interviews from the sidelines, I learn that Jim and Jared are actually roommates and training partners together in Flagstaff, which was unbeknownst to me beforehand.
7:30 PM: As Jared's post race interview comes to a close, I begin to walk back to my car and get ready to head home. As I walk off the track, I find out that Courtney, who had been the female winner last year, and had been leading the female division all day, had dropped out at mile seventy-nine due to hip problems. I'm disappointed to hear that her race had come to an end, but I also feel excited for Claire Gallagher, who is now leading the female division, and would probably be finishing in the next few hours. As I drive along the westbound freeway towards home, I think a lot about some of the key points that Jim and Jared both touched on during their interviews. "We live together and train together with a great group of guys. He pushed me all day" Jim said of Jared. "We hold each other accountable. This is our life, and we remind each other that we can't slack off" Jared said in reference to Jim. Although they did not explicitly say so during their interviews, I believe it's possible that Jim and Jared could not have accomplished everything they did if they didn't have each other. This realization made me look at my training and the fact that I have always done it exclusively on my own. Although I consider myself to be a good runner, I can't help but wonder about how much I could improve if I were to train with other people and let other people in, so to speak. When I run Tahoe Rim Trail 100 in July it will be my first time having a pacer at any of my races, so that will likely be a great start to possibly training with others in the future.
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