I awoke on Sunday morning feeling exhausted, mildly sore, and dehydrated. I sat up in bed after shutting off my alarm, unsure of what my next move was going to be. It was 7:00 AM and I was scheduled to be back in Foresthill to begin day 2 of Western States Training Camp at 8:30. But truthfully, I wasn't so sure I wanted to do that. The heat from yesterday fried me and left me in a state of fatigue and haziness. Today was forecasted to be even hotter, around 93 degrees. The distance today would be shorter and the climbs would not be as harsh as yesterday, but still, it was going to be even hotter. Was it smart for me to put my body through more suffering? The thought of relaxing in bed, going out for a nice breakfast, and just taking it easy before heading home seemed more appealing than running through an inferno. My hotel room was air conditioned and comfortable, which made the decision that much more vexing. I slowly got out of bed and wobbled over to the bathroom, looking at myself in the mirror. At least I looked better than I felt. I spent a few more minutes contemplating my next move when suddenly I remembered something important; I was trying to get into Western States. My dream race. Numero uno on my running bucket list. The ultimate adventure. The journey that I'd been trying to be a part of for the past three years. If there's anything I know about Western States, it's this; it gets friggin' hot. Like, super hot. On average, the temperatures in the Canyons get into the low nineties, even dabbling into triple digits some years. And even after you conquer the Canyons, you still have thirty-eight miles to go. Admittedly, being active in heat is not a strength of mine. I fare much better in the cold, or at least in cooler weather. Some of my best races have been in cold conditions where there's been pockets of rain and cloud cover. Heat presents an obstacle for me when it comes to running. It's a weakness of mine. I focused my attention back to my reflection in the mirror, and said to myself "Dude, listen. If you're going to do Western States someday, you need to learn how to deal with the heat. And this is a great opportunity to learn how to do that". That was it. Case closed. I was going to be running today.
The first step was admitting that heat was a weakness of mine, which felt good. Truth be told, running in 93 degree heat scared me. A lot of things could go wrong. But instead of running away from my fears and weaknesses I decided to conquer them. That was the second step; making the decision to embrace my fear instead of repress it. Once I had those two steps under my belt, the third step was determining the course of action I needed to take in order to maximize my chances of success and mitigate any risks. I needed to stay as cool and hydrated as I possibly could. But how? I brain stormed as I got dressed and gathered my running gear. I recalled reading an article in Runner's World several years ago where the author explained how he survived ever year while running some marathon in South Texas in the middle of summer. One thing that stuck in my memory was he mentioned he drank a large 7-Eleven Slurpee before the race. Once I was ready to go, I checked out of the hotel and drove to the nearest 7-Eleven. I filled a large plastic Slurpee cup with icy cold Coca-Cola flavored slushy deliciousness and grabbed two bottles of Gatorlyte. I also wanted caffeine, so I filled a small paper cup full of hot coffee and made my way to the counter. Looking at my items in front of me next to the cash register, it thought it looked pretty silly that I had a huge Slurpee right next to a cup of hot coffee. "I know this looks strange, but there's a method to this madness" I said to the clerk as I chuckled. With plenty of fuel, I exited 7-Eleven with a smile and set out down the winding road for Foresthill. In addition to consuming the Slurpee before today's run, my plan to was take down two electrolyte tablets per hour, have one water bottle for electrolytes, one for water, and make sure that I was drinking all thirty-two ounces between aid stations. Once I arrived, I ate the two remaining slices of pizza leftover from last night, and continued sipping on the Slurpee while I meandered around the starting area. I saw a lot of runners from the day before, including the two Midwestern ladies, and we exchanged greetings. At 8:30 AM sharp we began our run from the elementary school parking lot. Today we would be running eighteen miles from Foresthill to Driver's Flat campground, which involved around 2,400 feet of climbing. I took one last sip of the Slurpee until there was nothing but a small layer of flavorless ice at the bottom, and threw the cup away as I began running down the road. About a mile or so down Foresthill road, the course hops back onto the Western States trail, which then drops 2,500 feet over the next sixteen miles into a valley. This point is mile sixty-two of the Western States course. Western States runners traverse this same path and cross the American River at Rucky Chucky, which rests at the bottom of the valley. From there, they proceed to Green Gate, and another twenty miles to the finish line in Auburn. Luckily, the distance we were running today was much shorter. We followed the single track trail over rolling hills into the gorge. Occasionally, we'd get treated to a beautiful view of the American River, which flowed below us in the distance at the floor of the valley between the towering green hills. At around the 10K mark I heard foot steps behind me, coming in pretty hot. I quickly stepped to the side of the trail and nodded to the runner passing by. "Hey, nice work" I said. "Thanks, great job!". She moved like a bullet as she passed by me. I caught a glimpse of her face and immediately recognized her from somewhere. But I wasn't sure where. I knew that she was a big deal, but I couldn't quite put the face with a name. I later found out it was Brittany Peterson. She was the second place female finisher at Western States in 2019. She was also the first place female finisher at the Black Canyon 100K in February, and a top performer in several other ultramarathons.
Day 2 was as difficult as I expected it to be, but being prepared for the heat made things more tolerable. I refilled my water bottles at the first aid station at Cal2, powered through the short but hellish climb up to Ford's Bar, and traversed along the trail, which ran parallel to the American River. The scenery was beautiful as always, but as expected, the heat was baking me. It was getting hotter with each passing minute and the exposed areas of the trail felt like being in an outdoor sauna. The occasional breeze made the situation slightly more bearable. "Oh, that feels nice" I said to myself hoarsely. Eventually the trail deposited me onto a wide fire road. I continued to walk up the hills and run when capable, before finally rolling into the second aid station at Rucky Chucky, two miles from the finish. Similar to my situation at Michigan Bluff the day before, I needed to sit down, drink some fluids, and regroup. The volunteers filled my water bottles, and I downed all thirty-two ounces within a minute. While sitting on a rock, I chatted with some of the volunteers. One particular older gentleman had run Western States several times, beginning in the early 80's. Talk about a true hardcore original. Eventually I felt refreshed enough to hammer out two more miles. I stood up, thanked the volunteers, and set out to tackle the final segment to Driver's Flat. The only problem was those final two miles were uphill on a gravel road. The going was tough, it was getting hotter, and I had to move aside several times for passing vehicles. Eventually the climb was tackled and the finish area came into view. Just like the previous day, several volunteers were in the finish area providing food and drinks to runners with chairs set up under canvas tents. Again, this was simply out of the kindness of their hearts which made me feel grateful and wanting to volunteer at a race or expo in the near future.
We were soon hauled back to Foresthill on a school bus, and I made my way back into Auburn to meet up with Brian for some beer and lunch. He was a local guy and the brother of my friend Kelly from the Bay Area. When I finished Canyons in April, he and his girlfriend came out to the finish line with Sammy and Kelly for moral support and brought us to Pistol Pete's for a night of drinking to celebrate my finish. We had a great time catching up, and when the dust finally settled, I arrived home in Silicon Valley that evening. During the two and a half hour drive home I consumed almost three liters of Gatorlyte and water. Although I was sore and exhausted, I had made it through the intense heat without cramping up or having heat related nausea. The going was slow, but I made it, and I was happy that my plan had worked. Although it's still a challenge for me, running in heat is no longer as scary as before. The fear of the unknown had diminished, thanks to the simple decision I made that morning to responsibly jump right into a scary situation instead of run away from it. I will eventually get into Western States, I just have to keep trying. But when I do get in, it's going to be go time. I have a lot of work to do between now and then and I'm just getting warmed up!
