Monthly Summary - September 2010

Here's September:

Swim: 0 yards
Cycling (outdoors): 0.0 miles
Cycling (indoors): 0:30 (hours)
Run: 113.6 miles
Strength Training/Yoga: 2 sessions

Approximate monthly total training/racing time: 21:45 hours

September was at best a 2/3 month. I was recovering from AC then had my surgery and continue to be in the midst of recovery. I haven't done anything active in 10 days.

And October is going to be another super light month. Recovery is going really well. I've been weaning myself off the pain meds and I'm just starting to feel comfortable walking around. My pretty staples come out on Tuesday. But it's going to be a little while longer before I'm allowed to do anything active, let alone running. As I keep telling myself - this is a break that my body needs. I'll heal and recovery and when it's time, I'll be back doing what I do. Patience.

And thank you all for all the support surrounding my surgery. Your notes and emails were so nice to read and helped me get through it all.

Recovery Part One

My 24 staples* and I were wheeled out of the hospital Friday morning, along with prescriptions for three mighty powerful drugs.

Here I am on Monday morning waiting to get all checked in (and still mostly smiling):

The rest of my hospital stay was unremarkable - I wasn't allowed to sit up or get out of bed or even raise the back of the bed until Thursday at noon (77 hours after I first got onto the bed before the surgery). So that pretty much sucked. But the nurses and other hospital staff were great and I had a ton of fantastic company; Elizabeth and my family who stayed in the hospital pretty much all day, everyday, and lots of good friends who stopped in to say hi and hang for a bit.  Here's a picture of my home all week (after I was allowed to raise the bed and get up):

It's really nice to be home and sitting on my couch and eating out of my fridge and sleeping in my bed. And hanging out with the boys. I'm still in a fair amount of discomfort, but that's where the percoset and oxy come in. Each day I've taken the dogs on a nice morning walk and gone on one excursion. Yesterday, I went to Santa Monica with my dad to get some Nike Frees and today it was a trip to the Melrose Place Farmer's Market for some delicious fruit and a bunch of yummy stuff from Dave's Gourmet Korean Food booth.

The nice thing is that I am getting better every day. As long as I make sure to take it easy, that trend should continue.

*If you want to see some bonus pictures, follow these links - but be warned, they're a little nasty. The first photo is a shot of my full back so you can see the entire incision, the second photo is a close of of the incision and the 24 staples!

DONE!

And by all accounts it went really well!

Now it's time for a speedy recovery!

It's time

So this is it, huh?

It's been six months since I found out that I need this surgery. Six months that went by in about a second.

Click here to read what I've written this year about the surgery.

In July 2007, a few weeks before my first Ironman and on the fourth anniversary of my original surgery in 2003, I wrote the story of that surgery. It's still my favorite post on this blog.

I thought I'd be all profound and stuff in this post. But I don't really have much left to say.

I did manage to get in two great runs this weekend. Twenty one miles in La Jolla Canyon/Sycamore Canyon yesterday and about 12 today in the Santa Monicas with Assaf. Pretty good way to start my break.

And now we're here, and tomorrow at 7:30am, Dr. Langston Holly and the UCLA A-Team are going to cut me open and fix what's wrong. (With the tumor anyway. There's a lot that's wrong that all known medical science can't begin to fix.)

Wish me well, send good thoughts and positive energy and I'll be back before you know it!

The Things I Carried*

Ok, Ok, I promise, this is the last blog post related to Angeles Crest. I swear. At least for this year. :)

Some people have asked me about the gear I used and clothing I wore during the race. What worked and what didn't. What I would recommend to others. And as you may have realized, I love talking about gear. And researching gear. And trying out new things. And writing about it all.

Also, I was really fortunate that at the race pretty much everything I chose to use or wear worked out perfectly for me. So this post is pretty much a long list of things I like.  Here goes.

CLOTHING:
I started the day wearing the following (you can see most of it in the above picture that Elizabeth took when I was coming into the first aid station at Inspiration Point):

• My pink Headsweats hat from Jackrabbit Sports in NYC: I love this hat. It's brought me great luck in racing this year. And, of course, I like that it's flashy!  I never took the hat off during the race.  I only wear Headsweats hats and visors when I'm running.  I have a closet full of them, but it's the pink one that I race in.  I've written a lot about the store in this blog. They don't have online shopping, but if you're in NYC, it's definitely worth stopping in.
• Brooks Rev Sleeveless shirt: I like racing in white shirts, especially if it's gonna be hot.  This one fits me really well.  I changed my shirt twice during the race - at Shortcut (mile 59.3) I put on my bright green Craft shirt and at Chantry (mile 74.55), I put on my longsleeve Nike shirt.   
• Nike 2-in-1 shorts: They have a boxer brief liner. These shorts were last year's model and I haven't been able to find the same shorts this year. The updated ones don't fit as well.
• Skins ICE Men's Half Tights: I wore these compression shorts under the Nike shorts. They supposedly help keep your legs feeling cool. I'm not sure if I really feel that effect, but sure they are comfortable.  I wore them and the Nike shorts throughout the race.  
• Drymax Maximum Protection Trail Running Socks: This is the only item that I got for free. These socks are definitely my favorite racing socks. They're super comfortable and keep my feet really dry. I never changed them during the race. And never even felt like I wanted to. I've been wearing Drymax socks for a few months now and these are my current favorites. The only drawback is that they're really expensive.
• New Balance MT100 shoes: I love these shoes. Since I got my first pair early this year, I've done nearly all of my trail running in them. I've run over 450 miles in my first pair and over 250 miles in the pair I wore at AC. They're comfortable and light and fast! They're also impossible to find right now anywhere. But the updated MT101 is due out next month!
• DeSoto Arm Coolers: Another product I've been wearing for a couple years. I wear them in pretty much any race when it might get hot. They provide sun protection and when it gets hot, you can either spray them with cold water or stuff them with ice for instant cool down.
• Lululemon Foldin Key Cuff: Kristin and Colin introduced these to me this spring. It's an awesome, super simple idea. A lightweight piece of fabric that goes around the wrist and stretches to hold keys, money, gels, food, a phone, etc. I used it to carry my Salt Stick salt tablets during the entire race. They're not always available or easy to find in an acceptable color, so if you find them, buy a couple!
• Glitter star tattoos: This isn't something I "wore" as much as something that was "on" me.  I got the glitter tattoos done a couple days before the race. They turned out awesome and were a ton of fun. Especially because they washed off a few days after the race! In LA, you can contact Sparkle & Shine and they'll hook you up.
• At the Three Points aid station (mile 42.72), I changed my shoes and swapped the MT100s for a pair of Brooks Launch. This was the longest and the furthest I'd run in the MT100s and planned all along on changing them around here. It was a great decision and the Launches carried me through the rest of the race. I like the Launch because they're light (9.3 oz) but still comfortable enough for 60+ miles of running.

NUTRITION/HYDRATION:

• Ultimate Direction Fast Draw Extreme handheld bottles: I started the race with two UD Fast Draw Extreme handhelds. I used the UD 20oz bottle in one hand filled with Infinit. But in the second handheld, I swapped out the UD bottle for a Camelback 24oz Podium Bottle with just water. I wanted to have the Camelback bottle because, while I love the UD kicker valve on their bottles, the valve on the Camelback bottles is easier for squirting water on my face or arm coolers.
• Ultimate Direction Wasp Hydration Pack: I did my research and chose this pack. I'm still happy I went with it and wore it during a lot of long stretches during the race. It's comfortable and carries everything I need.
• Infinit: If you're a reader of this blog, you know that I love this stuff. I've been using it for years and have relied on it for all my calories for Ironman races and 50 mile ultras. I used it for probably 75% of my calories at AC until Shortcut Saddle (mile 59.3 - 13 hours into the race), when I decided I couldn't drink another sip of it!
• Accel Gel: I've been using these gels for years as a back-up for or supplement to Infinit. I prefer the vanilla flavor, but when I need some caffeine, I'll use the chocolate.  At pretty much all times during the race I had three of these gels with me.  
• Salt Stick: Supplementing with salt is new for me. But after a few training runs where I bonked or finished covered in salt on my skin and clothes, I realized I needed to start doing it. Salt Stick is the only one I've used and it seems to work for me.

NIGHT RUNNING:

• This was the only place I feel like I made a "mistake" during the race. All along, I figured that it would get dark somewhere between Shortcut Saddle (mile 59.3) and Chantry Flats (mile 74.55). But in my plan it wouldn't get really dark until towards the end of this section. So, I decided I grab a cheap little Duracell headlamp at Shortcut and then trade it for my better headlamp when I got to Chantry. (I actually wore this same headlamp at the beginning of the race and it was fine then. But it got light quickly in the morning and I was running with other people who had lights so it didn't matter as much.) The problem was that I didn't actually get to Shortcut until 6:10pm and didn't change my plan. And then it got very dark very quickly. And the little headlamp sucked - it's not bright enough in the first place and it was losing battery strength. This was definitely a "better safe than sorry" moment that I messed up!
• Last year, I bought the Black Diamond Spot headlamp. It's a great light and perfect for night running on fireroads and relatively easy trails. But as AC got closer I got worried that it wouldn't be enough for the technical running through the night during the last 25 miles at AC. So, at the last minute I stepped up, opened my wallet and bought a Petzl MYO RXP. And I'm so glad I did. You can see it in the picture above that Billy took when Jimmy and I were leaving Chantry.  The MYO RXP rocks. It's bright and comfortable. It has a ton of functions that I still haven't figured out how to use.  And even though it has a 3xAA battery pack on the strap on the back of the head, it doesn't feel heavy and doesn't bounce. I think I could have comfortably worn this lamp all the way from Shortcut (though I definitely would have needed to change the batteries during that time).

If anyone has any questions or wants more details, let me know!

(*Sincere apologies to Tim O'Brien for bastardizing the title of his incredible book. I haven't read it in years, but it's one of those books that has always stayed with me.)

AC100 Post-race

In the days after AC I actually felt much better than I thought I would. I was walking a little funny, but only a little. I didn't have any real pain or injuries from the race. The tendon in my foot/ankle continued to bother me for a few days, but it got better on a consistent basis, so I wasn't too concerned.

I took it really easy the following week - a few days off, an easy hike in Temescal on Thursday and my first post-race run the following Saturday. I ran easy on a pretty flat bike bath near Avila Beach. The run went well. The only thing was that my legs didn't have any "pop" whatsoever. I could run comfortably at a steady pace, but the one time I tried to pick it up for a little speed, my legs just wouldn't respond. I couldn't blame the legs at all for that! The next week I ran Monday, Tuesday and Thursday and felt pretty good during each run. Thursday's run was a tough out-and-back with a 3.75 mile climb followed by a 3.75 descent. I felt great during this run.

Angeles Crest 100 Mile Endurance Run - Part 4

I've built all this up over three posts with a lot of words (read: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3), but now I have to admit that I remember very little of the last 25 miles. I know that it lasted 6:32 and time definitely wasn't "flying" but my memories come in brief little flashes.

Jimmy and I ran out of Chantry Flats and into the last 25 miles of the race. We left while I still had a mouthful of food and was carrying a cup of soup.

Photo by Billy

For months, I'd been hearing how tough the last 25 miles of this race are. I left Chantry totally focused on breaking 24 hours. It was 9:42pm, which meant I now had 7 hours and 17 minutes to accomplish that goal. Despite the fact that I'd never run this far before and never run this section of the course, I was confident that I could do it.

I knew that Brandon, Keira and Mark weren't that far behind me, but breaking 24 hours was far more important to me than what place I finished in. On the other hand, finishing in the top ten at my first 100 would be pretty sweet.

The first five miles out of Chantry are a climb up to the Mt. Wilson Toll Road. I'd been fearing this climb for weeks. But when Jimmy and I started up the trail, my legs were strong under me. Jimmy was handling me with a great mix of motivation and fear. The motivation got me power hiking pretty quickly up the climb and the fear had me running any little section that I could. My foot felt fine going uphill but once we crested the Mt. Wilson Toll Road and started moving downhill, the tendon in my foot and ankle caught back on fire. Every so often Jimmy would look behind us to see if anyone was close. Because of the switchbacks and the windy trail, sometimes we would see lamps or hear voices but it was impossible to tell how far back anyone was. I don't remember if this section of the trail was marked well or not. Having Jimmy guide me was enough. Putting on my new Petzl Myo headlamp was pretty huge too.  I could actually see where I was running.  That headlamp isn't particularly cheap, but it kicks ass.

Close to the Idlehour aid station (mile 83.5) we ran through the party tree - a tree the aid station volunteers had decorated with a ton of glowsticks. It was a welcome sight in the middle of this night. We got to Idlehour at 11:52pm. It's a major point of pride for me that my split for this nine mile section from Chantry to Idlehour was the third fastest of the race. We were in and out of Idlehour quickly and headed toward the second-to-last checkpoint of the race at Sam Merrill. When we left Idlehour I had 5 hours and 5 minutes to run 16.5 miles and finish sub-24.

My biggest memories of the 12 miles from Idlehour through Sam Merrill to the final aid station at Millard Campground are of Jimmy's voice, "Hug right" (to avoid falling off a cliff to the left), "Step down", "Crumbling trail", "Poison oak", "Tripping rock". He was doing a great job not only keeping me safe, but also keeping me focused and awake. He broke the rest of the course down for me into short sections, which did sort of make it seem more manageable.

From the Sam Merrill checkpoint (mile 89.25), most of the rest of the race is downhill. In the weeks before the race, I was excited for this part of the course. I figured that no matter how I felt, I could just let gravity take me home. But the profile doesn't show how technical and rocky most of this section is. And if easy descents were rough on my foot, this kind of terrain was absolutely killing me. I could run, but had to do it gingerly and I knew I was losing time when I otherwise felt great. I love running on trails, but at this point, I was begging for some nice, hard, smooth, unforgiving-on-the-joints pavement. Anything to give my ankles and feet a break!

We got to Millard Campground (mile 95.83) at 3:07am. That meant that, barring catastrophe, I'd get my sub-24. We heard that Dom was just a few minutes of ahead of us and didn't see anyone behind us. That didn't stop Jimmy from continuing to look back to make sure that we weren't going to get passed. As we left this final checkpoint, Jimmy called Elizabeth to let her know that we were headed home. Thankfully no one expected me to do any talking because, despite the fact that I still felt OK, my brain wasn't sending coherent signals to my mouth. We ran through the El Prieto Trail and finally, finally, were done with the technical parts of the course. And this brings us full circle back to the beginning of Part 1 of this race report: remember that?

Billy and Colin taking photos (like this one of Jimmy and I coming up the road):

Photo by Colin

Jimmy still looking back to make sure no one popped up behind us in the last mile:

Photo by Billy

The relatively unceremonious, but still breathtaking, finish line:

  Photo by Elizabeth

I was done. And I have the pictures to prove it.

Photo by Colin

Photo by Billy

Photo by Colin

We hung out at the finish line at Johnson's Field for an hour or so to see Brandon, then Mark, then women's winner Keira cross the finish line. Then, Elizabeth and I drove back to Pasadena. Somehow I managed to shower and sleep. Sunday at around 2, we went back to Johnson's Field for the awards ceremony. It was a blast to hang out with all the runners and their support crews. Elizabeth, Jimmy, Loren and I hung out with the dogs while Hal and Ken read off every finisher's name and handed out the plaques, maps, buckles and award statues.

Photo by Elizabeth

Photo by Elizabeth

I was so psyched to hear him read off my name and my time and to get that damn buckle.

Photo by Elizabeth

And with that, we're done!

But before I let you go, I need to send out one more round of thank yous. People (including me) say this all the time about every race, but I have never meant it as much as I do this time: I could not possibly have done this race without the incredible support I received from family and friends. It would have been impossible to have had anywhere close to the same fun experience and even just finishing would have been an incredible struggle. Elizabeth, my parents and Drew and Ashley (and Buhner), who all got up in the middle of the night to crew me from the very start. They put up with my nonsense (the same nonsense the Elizabeth's been putting up with for months) and always met me with huge cheers and everything that I might possibly want or need. Jimmy who coached me through all the training and then was there all day, helping my crew learn how to handle me and then running with me - nearly carrying me - for the last 25 miles. Colin and Kristin for running with me from miles 52-75, which were probably where I struggled the most mentally. Cat and Jeff for coming out and spending many many more hours than I ever expected. Billy, for all the great photos and the support at the end. Loren and Charlie who brought the dogs to Chantry!  All the Coyotes who came out and supported Dom, Kate, Kelly and me throughout the day and night. And then, huge thank yous to everyone else, people I know and don't know, other people's family and friends and the volunteers all over the course. All of you rock!

Until next time...

Angeles Crest 100 Mile Endurance Run - Part 3

Kristin and I left Chilao and I still feel badly that she had to listen to me continue to bitch about getting lost, but I think she eventually distracted me enough that I mostly let it go.

This section of the course showed tons of damage from the 2009 Station Fire. Huge hillsides bare of big trees.

Photo by Elizabeth

And the trees that were left were charred crazy looking things. They still resemble trees, except without leaves, and instead of being green, they're eerie shades of black, grey and white.

Photo by Elizabeth

During this section my stomach started shutting down. Actually, that's not really the right term. It wasn't upset and seemed to be digesting food and liquid OK, but I didn't have any appetite and even the thought of food repulsed me. I choked down another bottle of Infinit, which had been the majority of my calories to this point, but knew that I was done with Infinit for the day.

Kristin was wearing her Garmin, which was helpful in letting me know how far we were from Shortcut. I probably drove her a little crazy asking where we were too often. It was awesome to have company to run with for the first time since very very early in the morning and Kristin was tons of fun.  At times we heard voices behind us - it was Mark Tanaka and Billy (a/k/a LARunr), his pacer for this section. We came around a bend and knew we were getting close. And then we heard Jimmy's "Coyote Call". And Colin's laugh. The aid station was still a bit of a distance away and on top of the hill.

Photo by Elizabeth

We couldn't see them, but guessed that my pink hat was making it easy for them to pick us out.

Photo by Elizabeth

We got into Shortcut Saddle (mile 59.3) at 6:10pm. I grabbed my pack, a handheld bottle of water and, since it would definitely get dark between Shortcut and Chantry, one of my little headlamps. My crew must have known that I hadn't really been eating because Elizabeth, my mom, Drew and Tommy started in on me asking what I'd eaten and trying to get me to eat. But I couldn't. I knew that I'd taken in a lot of calories earlier in the day and that was carrying me for now, but I also knew that if I couldn't start eating soon, I'd be screwed later. My mom stuffed a PB&J sandwich in one packet of my pack and Elizabeth stuffed a sweet potato in another one. I said goodbye to Kristin (and hopefully thanked her profusely) because it was Colin's turn to run with me. He was sticking with me for 15 miles, until Chantry Flats.

As we were leaving, we heard Mark and Billy coming into Shortcut behind us. This was the closest anyone had been to me in a long time. I didn't doubt that I might get passed before the end of the race, but I didn't want to make it easy. We took off down the long descent out of Shortcut and I think I was still running downhill decently.

In addition to pacing me, keeping me focused on eating and drinking and making sure I didn't fall off the trail, Colin took about a thousand pictures while we were running. And the show-off in me loved it.

Photo by Colin

He also took a few videos, including this one, pretty close to the start of our section:



Colin repeatedly tried to get me to eat. I had a single small bite of the PB&J, but couldn't possibly have another one. And after my incident at Cloudburst with the sweet potato, I didn't even try to eat that. I had a gel and some gummy chews.

A few miles into this section Mark Tanaka and his new pacer, Lora, caught us. We yo-yo'd for a while, him mostly passing me on descents, me taking back lost ground on the climbs. We had our only real water crossing of the day around here. I ran right through it. Go Drymax socks!!

Photo by Colin

It went from bright sun to darkness very quickly. This part of the section had overhead coverage, so even when it was just becoming dusk it was dark for us. By the time we got to Newcomb's Saddle (mile 67.95; 8:04pm) it was pitch black.

Photo by Colin

One thing I'm really proud of is that I blew through aid stations throughout the race. This was partly because no matter how I felt in between aid stations, just getting to the cheers and smiling faces gave me a big boost of energy and reminded me that there wasn't any reason to waste time. In general, I was in-and-out within two or three minutes. I spent six minutes in Newcomb's Saddle, which was my longest time in any aid station. I probably "wasted" a minute or two talking to Elizabeth and my crew on the two-way video feed between Newcomb's Saddle and Chantry, but it was fun to see them. Finally, Drew reminded me that I was wasting time, by shouting over the feed that it was time to get moving! I also had some soup and a couple Tums there. I was able to suck down the soup and from that point forward, chicken noodle soup became my main source of calories.

At some point before Newcomb's Saddle, we passed Mark Tanaka for good. But right outside the aid station, Brandon Adame passed us, running without a pacer. The course from Newcomb to Chantry starts with another long descent and finishes with a short climb to the aid station. The descent was tough on me, mostly because my headlamp was pretty crappy so it was hard to see anything and the tendon in the top of my foot and ankle was pretty much on fire. It was fine during climbs, but descents were getting painful.

Photo by Colin

At one point toward the end of this descent, I took my only fall of the day. It wasn't a bad one and I bounced right back up, but it was a legit fall. Immediately after my fall, I started hearing more voices behind us. Two women. Uh oh. That meant it was Keira and Ashley. I knew Keira was winning the women's race. At one point, it seemed like they were right behind us and I figured for certain they would pass us, but Colin got me going and we held them off.

On the final part of the climb into Chantry (mile 74.55), we re-passed Brandon, the runner who passed us near Newcomb's Saddle. Then, Colin started shouting, "Josh Spector coming in!" It felt awesome. The crowds were going crazy. We came into the aid station and it was total sensory overload.

Photo by Billy

There were so many faces, including my sister who was there with Gus, Charlie and Birdie. I guess they'd had some quality time with Jimmy while I was waiting.

Photo be Elizabeth

Gus had spent part of the evening hanging out in the duffle bag with my extra clothing.

Photo by Elizabeth

I expected to have a minute to catch my breath and get some food from the sweet spread I knew Elizabeth and my parents would have put out for me.

Photo by Elizabeth

But Jimmy had other ideas. He grabbed me and was all business. He told me I had 90 seconds to change my shirt, get my good headlamp, get some food and get going. I did all that as quickly as possible, but it was definitely stressful with Jimmy counting down the seconds! :)

Photo by Elizabeth

Once I'd gotten it all taken care of, Jimmy had me running out of the aid station post-haste! What I didn't know is that Jimmy and Keira's pacer for the last 25 miles of the race, Tommy, had been talking trash all evening about which one of them was going to finish first. Jimmy knew that Keira - or, actually, Tommy - was right behind me and wasn't about to give any advantage.

"Just" 25 miles to go. Two big climbs, two long descents. I couldn't visualize the finish yet, but I knew it was coming.

I swear it's almost done. Just one more post... by tomorrow, I hope!

Angeles Crest 100 Mile Endurance Run - Part 2

Photo by Elizabeth

I left Eagle's Roost feeling great. I was 30 miles in and through some of what I believed would be the toughest parts of the course. I was confident but also knew that I had two challenges ahead of me.  First, it was about to potentially get hot and second, and more important in my mind, I was now entering the unknown. I had never run on any of the rest of the course. Seventy miles on trails I'd never really seen.  I took my two bottles, had a few pieces of fruit, Elizabeth tied a wet bandana around my neck and I headed up the Highway, first at a slow jog, then, as soon as it became an incline, at a brisk walk. Mom and Dad passed in their car and said Hi, Drew and Ashley passed and congratulated me for slowing down and then Elizabeth passed with a quick cheer.

It's probably 2 miles on the road but it felt longer. The turn off back towards the trail was well marked but the way through Buckhorn Campground was not. In the campground I stopped and sat down for the first time during the race - on a campground table just for a minute to dump some rocks from my shoes. I got to a poorly marked intersection, but thankfully some campers told me which way the runners in front of me had gone. Next was a section on the Burkhardt trail; it wasn't really better marked, and the markers that were there alternated haphazardly from yellow to orange to blue and back, but at least the trail was generally easy to follow.  There was one point where I felt certain I was lost but not too much further down the trail I hit a major left hand turn back onto the PCT which was marked with tons of flags and chalk.

It was around here that I had my first "down" moments of the race. I didn't know where I was or how much longer until the next aid station. It was getting a little hot. Also, my two bottles were running low. I wasn't dehydrated but I was terrified of it happening. And I kept thinking back to advice I'd gotten that I should carry a pack through Cooper Canyon. It was too late now, but I started kicking myself. All this mental strain started to wear on me. By the final climb out of Cooper Canyon, I was out of water. I didn't even know if it was the final climb until I saw Sada waiting on the trail taking pictures. Then I heard the aid station commotion. Thank goodness. I made it to Cloudburst (mile 37.5) at 12:49pm.

Photo by Elizabeth

Elizabeth and my parents had another nice spread laid out for me.

Photo by Elizabeth

I filled up bottles and tried eating some sweet potato. The first bite went down OK so I stuffed a second big piece in my mouth but instantly realized it wasn't gonna take. I apologized and spit a nasty partly-chewed orange mess out on the ground.

The next five miles - from Cloudburst to Three Points is the part of the race I remember the least. In fact, I don't really remember it at all. From the course profile I know this section is a descent and I think I was moving OK through here, but I couldn't tell you what this section looks like.

All I remember is coming to Three Points (mile 42.72, 1:49pm) and seeing that the checkpoint was at the top of a hill across the Highway. I crossed and climbed the path and my crew was screaming for me.

Photo by Cat

Photo by Jeff

This time, in addition to the usual suspects, Cat and Jeff were there!  I checked into the aid station and went over to the car. It was time to change my shoes. I got my Brooks Launch out of the car, knelt down and changed shoes.

Photo by Cat

I thought about changing socks, but my feet were still feeling good and frankly it just seemed like it would be too much trouble. Getting up was a little dicey, but once I was up, I felt great. It was fun to see Katie and Brian on my way out.  A quick high five and I and was off.

I left Three Points with two bottles. My mom shouted something like see you in 10 miles which caught me a little off-guard until I remembered that the Mt. Hillyer aid station was in between and there was no crew access there. This section starts downhill but then has a long climb on the road up to the Mt. Hillyer aid station. The main thing I remember about this climb was that it twisted around a lot and there were chalk smiley faces on the road. When I saw the first one, I assumed it meant that the aid station was right ahead. By the third or fourth smiley face I was a little pissed off by the teasing!

I wasn't feeling great when I got to the Mt. Hillyer aid station. But the crew there were saviors. I had some potato slices and watermelon with salt (there's a first time for everything and it actually tasted great!). I spent a minute or two talking to them, my first human interaction in what seemed like a long time. Also, Hal was up there hanging with the aid station crew. On my way out I asked how far it was to Chilao. One of the volunteers told me it was 3.5 miles, "3.5 hard miles," Hal said "because of all the boulders." The volunteer also asked me to tell the Chilao staff how well (or poorly) this section of the trail was marked. Off I went up a dirt road hill and then onto the trail. I was feeling pretty good, knowing I was getting close to Chilao and my first pacer of the day, Kristin. But this was where things got interesting.

From the Mt. Hillyer aid station, I hadn't seen a single trail marker. The trail was straightforward enough. Or so I thought. But then it turned nasty. Lots of boulders, no clear trail, a dead-end, a small path between bushes that could be a trail, another dead-end. But I kept moving down the hill, following false trails. Kept moving, that is until I realized I'd gone way too far. And what was I supposed to do then? I didn't know where the trail was, didn't know where I'd gone wrong and didn't even know how to get back to where I'd started. I thrashed through bushes, mostly ones with thorns. I climbed to the top of the biggest rocks I could find and shouted for help. At first, a little timidly and later with much more gusto. I thought about just going downhill and hoping to find the highway. I knew that would result in being disqualified. I was definitely in panic mode. Panic of being lost. Panic of missing out on sub-24. Panic of embarrassing myself because I'd gotten lost and then panicked. Eventually, I got my wits about me and started back up the hill. Not necessarily the same way I'd come down, but I hoped up was better than down. Every big rock I found I climbed and shouted a loud "HELLO!" And finally, I got a response. It was the volunteer from the Mt. Hillyer aid station, he'd come out to re-mark the trail. I was only a few feet below the trail, but when I emerged through the bushes he was a little shocked. And he was at exactly the point where I'd taken the wrong turn. He pointed me the right way. And there, about 5 feet down that path was an orange flag. The first flag on this section and I still believe an easy one to miss. But that doesn't mean I'm kicking myself any less.*

Thank goodness for that volunteer.  If he hadn't come out to re-mark the course and hadn't been exactly there when I shouted out, I don't know what would have happened.  I probably would still have found the trail, but it would have taken me longer and having him send me down the right trail was huge.  I owe him a lot and don't even know his name.

I was pissed. And had tons of adrenaline rushing through my veins. I motored down the course. Muttering to myself, feeling sorry for myself and pissed off at the race directors. I'm guessing I lost about 30 minutes. I got into the Chilao aid station (mile 52.8; 4:29pm) to the cheers of my family and crew. Kristin and Colin and Billy were all there. They'd all been there waiting a lot longer than I'd told them I would be. And I announced my presence with some choice curse words and a general bad attitude. Scott Mills told me to calm down and let it go. The Chilao volunteers told me to get on the scale. As I was stepping onto it I realized that I needed to get rid of my bottles.

Photo by Cat

I was about a half-second from just throwing them to the ground in sheer frustration when a volunteer reached out his arms and asked for them. I weighed in about three percent down, which was fine as long as I was careful from then out.

Photo by Colin

My crew walked me to where they'd set up my cooler and had to listen to me bitching the whole time.

Photo by Billy

I imagine they were hanging back a bit here watching out for an outburst.  But after all that time complaining to myself, I definitely needed to vent.  And I did not have an outburst.  Not a big one anyway.

As pissed as I was, I needed to let it go. In the grand scheme of things I really hadn't lost that much time. And from this point forward I would have company to run with.  Good company.

Photo by Colin

After loading up with gels and some chews and getting a new bandana tied around my neck, Kristin and I took off on a 6.5 mile leg to Shortcut Saddle.

Photo by Colin

I'm not sure which is worse, breaking this into four parts or making less parts longer. Or maybe I should just write less... :)

*Not to be a jerk, but here an excerpt from the official race booklet about this exact section of the course: "This portion of the Race Course is well marked on race day, but can be tricky for the newcomer on training runs."  Sweet.  

Angeles Crest 100 Mile Endurance Run - Part 1

I'm gonna start this race report at the end. The very end. I've written 14 words and I know this is going to be a long one. And the end is pretty much the best part. If you do read past the next paragraph, you'll be "treated" to what I remember of this crazy experience as well as a TON of photos, thanks to Elizabeth, mom, Cat, Jeff, Billy, Colin and others.

Photo by Colin Cooley

It was right after 4am Sunday morning. I'd spent the last 23 hours on my feet; feet that had absolutely been screaming at me since we left the Sam Merrill Trail checkpoint (mile 89.25) about 90 minutes earlier. Jimmy tells me that I'm a half mile from the finish line, but I have no idea where that is and no idea what a "half mile" means anymore. What I do know is that I am finally done running on trails. I have never been so happy to feel my feet on pavement. (But more on that below.) There are a couple of lights ahead and Jimmy wants to give chase. He's competing for me. "We can catch Dom," he says. I make very clear again that I don't give a rat's ass about catching anyone. Faster = more pain and I don't have the stomach for more pain any more. I know I'm getting my sub-24 hour buckle and no one is going to catch me from behind. That's plenty for me. Then the lights stop moving and the two runners kneel down. Now Jimmy's really excited because he thinks Dom's stopping to stretch. So we speed up just a little. I think "Maybe I can pass them. What's a little more pain?" But it's not Dom, it's Billy and Colin taking pictures. Just like they'd been doing all day when they weren't out there pacing. It's 4am for goodness sake. Aren't sane people asleep at this hour? When we catch up they run with us for a few steps, take a couple photos and then take off.

Photo by Colin

I watch them leave and only wish I could run that fast. One turn, maybe another and there's the park. The way to the finish isn't actually marked (on this day that's no surprise) but thankfully someone points me in the right direction across the grass. I can finally see the finish line banner. But there aren't any lights. There isn't any music. No finish line clock. No announcer. And the banner is actually facing away from me. Nobody's telling me my time or what place I'm going to finish in. WTF? But at this point, I'm not asking questions. Jimmy's pointing me in the right direction and I start seeing and hearing people – my friends and family, incredible supporters – cheering me on. And then, and then, it's just done. I know I smiled because I have pictures.

photo by Colin

photo by Billy Yang

I got my white finishers' t-shirt and a finish line photo. I saw Elizabeth and mom and dad and Loren and Cat and Jeff and Drew and Ashley and Colin and Kristin and Billy and Pam and Scotty and Lori and some other people who I'm sorry for not mentioning. All these people who had spent most of or all of the last 24 hours working their asses off to get me to this point. Hopefully I thanked them all. And gave them a big sweaty, dirty hug. And then I sat down. I finally sat down.

But that was just the last few minutes of the day. There's 23:14:11 left to tell. :)

We got to Wrightwood at around 11am on Friday and went straight to race check-in. I got myself checked-in and weighed (164 lbs) said hi to some friends and then went to lunch with Sean and Mike at the Evergreen Café. I'd been doing regular long runs with Sean and Mike over the last few weeks Sean is an AC100 veteran (who didn't race this year) and Mike was up there for his first attempt on the course. After lunch I tried my best to sit through the pre-race meeting, but could not for the life of me pay attention to anything Hal had to say. Eventually, I just got up and took a walk. And stood under the starting line banner.

Around 4:30, we made our way to the hotel and met up with my parents. We spent a few hours getting things organized. I was in bed by 8:30 and fell right asleep. I woke up a bunch of times throughout the night, but when the alarm went off at 2:30, I was ready to get up and moving. Breakfast, final organization, and it was 3:45 and we were out the door, headed to the start. My plan was to race in my MT100s for as long as I comfortably could. I assumed that would be somewhere between 30 and 40 miles. I was also wearing my new Drymax Max Pro Trailrunning Socks. I figured I'd have to change those at least once too.  And of course, my pink hat!

Photo by Mom

There was a ton of good energy at the race start. Between racers and supporters, I had a lot of friends there. I showed off my glitter star tattoos and got a picture with Catra Corbett and her real star tattoos.

Photo by Katie DeSplinter

A few minutes before the start, we all lined up under the starting banner. I felt great. So much energy. Not really the nervous anxiety-filled emotions before most races. I was just pumped to run. Bouncing up and down. Ready to tackle the course. A fireman counted down from five.  And then it was time.  

The race starts through Wrightwood and I jogged this part nice and easy.  Watched a group of 15 or so speed away.  Let them go, this first little bit is easy, but less than a mile in, the hills start. It's a 3.5 mile climb, first on pavement, then on the Acorn Trail connector to the Pacific Coast Trail. As soon as the hills started, I was hiking. That had been my plan all along. In the first 26 miles of the race, you get three solid climbs (Acorn Trail, Baden-Powell and Mt. Williamson), and I was going to power hike every step of each of them. I went up the Acorn Trail with a small group, mostly staying in line. It was still pitch black night and we got some great views of the lighted-up cities below us. Somewhere around mile 5, I picked up the pace just a little bit and moved through a few people. It was just starting to get a little light out. A few miles of descent and I was at the first aid station, Inspiration Point (mile 9.3). It was 6:48am and I was in 15th place.

Photo by Elizabeth

As I got there, my mom, Elizabeth and Drew were all cheering and taking pictures. That was great, but I wanted my salt and Infinit to re-fill my bottle. I think I yelled at them a little bit. Sorry. Jimmy was there and yelled at me (not for the last time) to “SLOW THE FUCK DOWN”. He told me I was running a 19 hour pace. Oops. But not really. I felt great, knew that I was running comfortably and knew that I wouldn't even begin to try to sustain that pace. I got my stuff, refilled my bottles and was off towards Vincent Gap. This is a pretty fast and easy 4.5 miles and I don't remember much of it. I went back and forth with a few runners here, including one guy named Tom who I passed on each climb and he passed me back on each descent. A tendon in the top of my foot and front of my ankle had been bothering me for about two weeks before the race. I wasn't sure if it was taper-itis and just hoped it would go away. I had ART, a massage and acupuncture and had been diligently using Traumeel, ice and Epsom salts. It was better but not gone. It was mostly just a dull ache but downhills (when my foot was naturally pointed) caused consistent pain. I had taped it up with some KT Tape the morning of the race and just hoped for the best. It wasn't hurting at this point, but I still wanted to take it a little easy on the downhills.

I got into Vincent Gap (mile 13.85) at 7:32am in 14th place, traded my bottles for my pack (Ultimate Direction Wasp) and started my hike up Baden-Powell.

Photo by Elizabeth

This is the longest climb of the day and at the top you hit about 9,000 feet. The first time I hiked Baden-Powell in training I suffered a little, the second time was smooth as butter. What would I get on race-day? Smooth-as-butter it was! I set a comfortably quick power hike pace and just powered up the hill. I passed a bunch of people. Had they gone out too fast or was I just hiking great? The altitude wasn't affecting me. My heart rate felt under control. I knew I was still less than a quarter of the way through the race, but things were going really well. I stopped at a fresh water spring called Little Jimmy on the way down the hill and refilled my bottle. Despite the fact that it's covered with poison oak, Little Jimmy might be my favorite place of this course. I had moved my way through seven racers on the climb up Baden-Powell and lost one spot (to Tom) on the descent to the next aid station at Islip Saddle (mile 25.9). It was 10:07am.

Photo by Ben Jones

Photo by Elizabeth

At the Islip Saddle aid station, Mr. B was hanging out waiting for me to finally get in.

Photo by Elizabeth

Mr. B didn't yell at me, but Jimmy did. "But I did slow down," I yelled with a smirk. "Not enough," was the response. And then, as I started the hike up Mt. Williamson, I heard the now-familiar "Slow the FUCK down!" I hiked up Mt. Williamson much like I hiked Baden-Powell. Mt. Williamson is a relatively short, but really steep (1,380 feet in 1.6 miles) climb but on Saturday it went by in a flash. Pretty soon I was back crossing the Angeles Forest Highway and after the next little trail section, landing at the Eagle's Roost aid station (mile 29.98).

Photo by Elizabeth

Drew was waiting for me at the beginning of the aid station and walked with me as I re-filled my bottles and headed to the rest of my crew. He reminded me to slow down. He reminded me about how I felt so great during the bike at Ironman Canada last year and then suffered so badly during the run. Neither of us wanted that to happen today. I took his message to heart this time. It was really time to slow things down. This was as much of the course as I had seen and I had very little idea about what was coming next. I had a little bit of fruit and a coconut water and left Eagle's Roost with two handheld bottles at 11:08am in 7th place. I was almost a third of the way through the course and still feeling great.  As I headed off for a few miles on pavement on Highway 2, Drew reminded me one last time that this was the time to slow it down.

Photo by Elizabeth

To be continued... (soon, I swear)