If I only had a heart

[singlepic=4258,280,200,,left]

I have a heart. Of course we all assume we have one because the pulse tells us that one beats inside, but I now know I have one because I’ve seen it. Not literally in the flesh so to speak, but via an ultrasound monitor that produced images as it contracted and expanded while pushing blood around my body. “Here is a view from below, and here we’re looking diagonally down to see that the valves inside the chambers are opening and closing without regurgitation.” The research assistant performing the scan was giving Guthrie a ringside view of the ‘action’, I could only see what was happening if I craned my neck to watch the monitor that was behind my right shoulder. “What if it does leak?” asked Guth. “We withdraw him from the study and he’ll need to see a physician.” came the reply. I crossed my fingers and considered holding my breath in preparation of bad news, but apparently all was good.

The scan was part of a research program looking into the impact on cardiac function as the result of endurance sport. Each study participant was required to have weight and height checks, a blood pressure reading and provide a blood sample, before undergoing the scan. These checks would take place at registration and immediately after the finishing the race. Programs like this are a common feature of the Western States 100 Mile Race.

[singlepic=4260,280,200,,right]

The race course covers 100.2 miles between Squaw Valley, near Lake Tahoe, which was the venue for the 1960 Winter Olympics, to the town of Auburn which lies to the south west. Registration takes place at a ski resort that was built to house Olympic village. We joined a line of other waiting runners that snaked across a yard into a building. The temperature in the sunshine was climbing and standing around without shade wasn’t good. Before we made it inside, my cardiac test appointment time meant we had to go and find the research team. With the test over, we rejoined the registration line that thankfully now, was much shorter.

Entering the building we joined the ‘swag line’ that would put many bigger races to shame. Firstly, a running backpack compliments of Mountain Hardware, a subsidiary of Montrail the prime sponsor. Next, an embroidered fleece pullover, tech race shirt, a cap with built-in light, cotton shirt and various food and hydration mix samples. Weighed down with swag, it was then a quick photo for the web cast page and then another weight and BP check. Once done, we had a couple of hours to find lunch before the formal race brief.

The briefing was a completely uninformative process. No details of value to running the event were provided as everything had already been communicated in various email updates in the preceding weeks. The only thing that raised eyebrows was a talk from the course manager. He started by announcing that he had spent the morning out on the course raking stones. Excuse me? Yes, you heard correctly, here at the biggest 100 mile trail race in the US (possibly the world), they remove rocks off the course. He also mentioned other sections that had been cleared by contractors during the last year to make it ‘easier’. This seemed hard to believe, but they weren’t joking and as it turned out, it was difficult to see were the course had been made ‘easier’.

Our stay before the race was in the town of Tahoe on the shores of the lake. The scenery was beautiful and being close to the water certainly provided cooler temperatures. We dined on pasta and headed to the hotel for an early night. With race clothes out, bags packed we hit the hay to rise the next morning at 2:45 am in order to be at check-in by 3:45 and eat breakfast.

The start area was buzzing when we arrived; we collected my race number, timing chip and searched for food. The breakfast was minimal but sufficient. As the building filled with runners and their crews, the line for the bathroom lengthened. More research teams were briefing their subjects including a group who were going to be to pee in bags during the race and leave their samples on the trail to be collected by volunteers following the field! The study was looking into kidney function and dehydration effects.

As the start time drew closer we moved outside, the air was cool but the atmosphere had heated up considerably. I got a kiss for good luck form Guth and headed into the pack, then we were off. At the same time I had scheduled a quotation to appear on the BS web site; “Wherever you go, go with all your heart.” (Confucius). Mine was now pounding inside my chest as we began a 3 mile climb out of Squaw Valley. Within the first mile the lead pack went off course lead by 7 time WSER winner Scott Jurek who followed a line of lights up the mountain side rather than the yellow ribbons we were supposed to follow. Before you ask, I wasn’t one of these lost souls, as thankfully I wasn’t quick enough! We continued gaining height, crossed a couple of patches of lingering winter snow before cresting the ridge. The scenery was stunning, high above the tree line you could see for miles; the air was cool but not unpleasant. For many miles, we climbed, descended, climbed and descended. Patches of ground showed evidence of the fires that stopped the race last year that were now covered in alpine flowers that carpeted the ground in reds, blues and pink blooms. Everything felt good; my pace was comfortable, I ate and drank regularly and enjoyed the ride.

[singlepic=4279,280,200,,left]

The first time Guth was able to catch up with me was mile 29 at Robinson Flat> Entering the aid station people called my name and shouted encouragement. One of the neat features I experienced at every aid station was that a spotter up the trail would radio a head the runner’s number. When you arrived at the station you were greeted by name and a volunteer became your personal assistant ready to fill bottles or get you food and a drop bag (if you had one). As I arrived I was weighed for the first time and found I’d dropped 3 pounds from my start weight, nothing to worry about but a reminder to keep drinking. Bottles filled, I grabbed some PB &J before being confronted by a lady with a hand full of sun cream who proceeded to slap the stuff on my face and arms – it turned out Guth had briefed her to do this! Then I was out of the station found Guth and collected a couple of Hammer Gels.

[singlepic=4278,280,200,,right]

The next 25 miles were the hardest and hottest. Temperatures began to climb and I slowed my pace (or at least I thought I did) and focused on hydration and forward momentum. During gaps of just 5 miles between aid I’d down 2 bottles of fluid. Once or twice I got nervous about running out and could only hope that the next stop was not far away. At registration I brought a cap with a flap that shaded the neck and ears – it proved to be a life saver, I don’t think I would have coped with the heat in the canyons without it. These canyons provided 2 steep climbs to get out of them. Thankfully the ascents were shaded although beneath the tree canopy the air was still and stifling. The descents however were open to the sun and baked in an oppressive heat. My feet began to swell and I could feel my big toes smash into the toe box with each downward step.

I was told that if I made it to Michigan Bluff at mile 55 I should be able to finish as the course would be a little gentler. I found Guth at the aid station and almost 2 hours inside the 24 hour finish cutoff and still felt good. The aid station was packed with people as this was the point where pacers could join the race. I headed out still feeling confident although my feet were starting to feel very sore. Eight miles further on, Guth was on hand at Foresthills aid station. I knew at this point that my pace was slowing. I had felt the big toe nail had torn from its bed on my right foot and both heels had blistered. Sixteen miles later at the Rucky Chucky water crossing, my pace was down to mostly a power walk. The rocky trail was painful to run on and I was terrified of kicking a stone with my damaged right toe, knowing that if I fell, I’d hit the ground hard. At Rucky Chucky near-side I replenished my bottles and asked for Vaseline to treat abrasions inside my shorts. With a lump of gloop on my finger, I politely turned away and applied the soothing paste. “God that feels better!” I said to a volunteer stood nearby. “Like a breath of fresh air isn’t it?” he said. I pulled back the waist band of my shorts and peered into the murky depths. “I wouldn’t call down there a breath of fresh air.” I replied, and he had to admit I was probably right. I then headed down to the infamous crossing.

I had no idea how deep the river would be, but there was a rope across it with volunteers position at intervals to assist the weary. I entered the water and sank to my waist – the abrasions sang with joy as they hit the icy water. I tripped and stumbled over submerged rocks. The depth rose to chest deep, before I reached the far-side to cheers of encouragement from Guth. We were then did the next 1.5 miles together as that was where the car was parked.

From here on I looked forward to up hills and cursed the downs because they caused more pounding on my battered feet. The hope of a sub 24 hour finish slipped away, but not finishing was out of the question and I plugged on. The dawn broke, the miles seemed to get ‘longer’ but eventually I arrived at the final aid station of Robbie Point just over one mile from the finish. For the previous 2 miles I had tried to push as hard as my feet allowed and now sensing the end, squeezed even more on the easier paved surface. Two turkeys appeared in the road ahead and couldn’t seem to work out that if they moved to the side I’d stop following them. For about 400 yards they trotted ahead making clicking sounds with their claws on the black top. Guth appeared and we fell into step together. In the final yards before entering the Placer High School sport field another runner sped passed me and then another threatening to do the same. I ignored the complaints inside my Vasques and gave chase. Out onto the running track with 200 yards to go the race announcer called my name and commented on my chili pepper shorts. I gave one last kick and crossed the line.

[singlepic=4292,280,200,,left]

Within seconds a medal was placed over my head, I was weighed, my timing chip was removed and my blood pressure taken. I really needed to sit down! A researcher appeared and asked if I needed anything before they performed my next ultrasound scan. “I just want to remove these shoes!” And pulled the stinking things off to reveal my white blistered feet. I was bit shocked at their condition which is the worse I’ve experienced during an ultra and their appearance received a few comments. They throbbed and I was offered an ice bath to soak them in – bliss! After a soaking, I underwent another ultrasound scan; the heart was still there and beating well, thankfully. We hung out, got some food and waited until the 30 hour cut off passed. The intention was to stay for the awards ceremony but the heat of the day was too much so we headed out to find a hotel and some air conditioned comfort.

The following morning we begin the journey home. En route to the airport we grabbed breakfast at a diner not far from the hotel. We ordered and were each presented with a plate of food that could have supported a family of four for a week! But Guthrie is a closet Pelican (her beak can hold more then her belly-can) and I’m on a permanent see food diet, so I have to admit we both managed to clear our plates! We got to the airport, checked in and began the slow hobble to the gate with Guth seemingly enjoying the slow pace of my shuffle! We’re just about to board and my phone rang. It was one of the research doctors making a follow up call. It seems my second blood test gave a high cpk reading, not enough to warrant action but sufficient to make sure I wasn’t experiencing any unwelcome effects. Elevated ckp is quite common after endurance events and should settle back down with rest and good hydration within a relatively short period of time.

Besides my feet problems, the race was worth it. The scenery was stunning and would make a great hiking trip. The organization of the event was faultless and the volunteers particularly provide an exceptional atmosphere. Originally I entered this race as a means to an end, to complete the Grand Slam, the size and hype that I perceived it generated initially put me off. But during the ride home, I had a couple of thoughts of what I’d do differently ‘next time’.

I hope they don’t do brain scans that year – I could be in trouble!

To view more pictures, click here