Thursday, August 28, 2014

Pigtails 100

        For those of you who have run around Lake Youngs then you know you aren’t missing much; a 9+ mile loop of rolling gravel trail, mostly enclosed by chain link that circumnavigates a reservoir which can only be spotted for an instant and only if you are traveling in a counterclockwise direction. Despite its obvious charms it is probably the most frequent (though not popular) venue to host ultras in Washington State. I’m guessing the City of Renton gives out permits like candy because I honestly can’t think of another reason why 3-4 events are held there annually.
I personally have had run two ultras here in the past. The first was my second ultra; the Lake Youngs Ultra in 2011 and more recently, the Lake Youngs Nuts Run, just a few months prior in February. I told myself I would never return but deep down I knew that if I ever dipped my toes in the 100 mile distance there was an off chance of running Pigtails.
Well wouldn’t you know it, only 2 months after the Lake Youngs Nuts Run I completed my first 100 mile race, the Lumberjack 100. Aside from having a physical and mental breakdown somewhere around mile 70ish, it went spectacularly well. I finished in just under 24 hours and took 4th place, only being beaten by three seasoned 100 milers.
I had heard from other runners that after you make the leap to run your first 100 you will either never do it again or you’ll be hooked. Apparently I fell in to the latter group as I registered for Pigtails which was only a mere 6 weeks after Lumberjack.
Aside from wanting the give the distance another go, knowing I was capable of running a much faster time, there were two other reasons that sealed the deal. The first was that the RD, Van Phan, had opted to forgo the traditional race attire that comes with the entry fee, and instead give everyone who entered robes emblazoned with the Pigtails logo. For those of you who don’t know Van, she is an ultra running machine and can always be spotted before the events rocking her signature pigtails as well as a bath robe to stay warm in the cold morning air. This was the inspiration behind providing said robes to entrants and was a huge selling point not only for myself, but for several other entrants.
The second reason I was keen on entering was Barbara Macklow. Barabara is another well-known ultra runner in the PNW. What makes her so well known is her, how should we put this, advanced age? Barbara is 80 years young and was using Pigtails as her attempt to become the first octogenarian woman to run 100 miles. Now don’t quote me on this but that was the word on the street. If others have accomplished this feat then more power to them. Either way it’s bad-freakin’-ass! Now with the groundwork laid for y’all, let’s get to the nitty-gritty of the race.
My alarm went off just before at 4:45a.m. race morning. Normally being awakened this early would result in outright rage and repetitive striking of the snooze button but today was different story. I quickly tossed my on my running regalia and dawned my robe which I had picked up two days prior. As much as dislike Lake Youngs, I love the fact that it’s only 15 minutes from my front door. Not sleeping in the dirt or the back of a van is a welcome change to my traditional pre-ultra mornings.
It may sound like lunacy to some but I always abstain from breakfast before a long run as I don’t want to risk upsetting my stomach before game time (foreshadowing). During the drive out there though I felt I should nibble on something just to wake myself up so a slowly pecked away at half a Clif Bar while occasionally looking at it with disdain.
I was at the parking-lot/start/finish in no time. It was still before 5:30 and with a 6:00 start time I was in no rush to leave the comfy confines of my car (I‘m a sucker for alliteration). I popped on the dome light as it was still a tad dark and proceeded to read something that I now can’t recall.
After about a quarter-hour I emerged from my sanctuary and the reality of the situation hit me. I was about to run 100 miles around a chain link fence. Really?!
The mood was somber before the start as we all knew we were in for a long day and night (and day for some people). This race/run was different though as the Pigtails Challenge is not only a 100 mile event, but also a 150 and 200 mile event. No, that’s not a typo. The 150 milers had started at 6:00a.m. on the previous morning while the gnarly 200 milers had started a whopping 48 hours earlier on Thursday morning. When you’re nervous about running 100 miles shit like that will put things in perspective real quick.
I said a few hellos to people I knew as well as finally meeting Gavin Woody. Gavin was another runner whom I had many a conversation with via Facebook. Although I had not met him before this morning he was someone I had great respect for, not only for his impressive running resume but also his service to this country. In addition, he was also the president of The Mountaineers. To put it in a nutshell, Gavin is as tough as a coffin nail. I also pegged him to be the favorite as he smoked the 150 distance the previous year. My only hope of beating him would be the fact that he ran a fast 50 miler the previous weekend.
After a few quick words of advice from Van there was a short countdown and we were off. I always go out hot in races and knew I would be doing the same today. The initial lead pack consisted of myself, Gavin, Genia Kacey (now Kacey-McKnight), and one other runner whom I didn’t recognize.
Gavin and I quickly pulled away, which I enjoyed but also gave me pause. We chatted it up in the cool morning air and before we knew it we were in front of a turn-a-round arrow painted in the dirt. This first portion of the race is a 5 mile out and back and yet it seemed too early to have gone 2.5 miles. We shrugged, assumed our talking had made the time pass, and began to turn around to find Genia and mystery runner tell us the turn-around was further. Oops! Well, better to find out now then to run 97.5 miles and get DQ’d. This little pause lit a fire under us and we took off hard, once again establishing our place as top two.
We would soon hit the real turn around and before I knew it we were back at the aid station. I stripped off my wind breaker and tossed on my little UD waist belt filled with Clif shots which would be my primary sustenance for the remainder of the race. Gavin’s transitions were much quicker and this would be a reoccurring theme of the day. It took a few minutes to catch back up to him but never did I over-exert myself. I didn’t know it yet but we would continue to run together, if not very close together, for the next 12 hours or so.
The aid station theme kept repeating itself as the miles ticked off. Gavin would spend maybe twenty to thirty seconds at each stations while I would spend closer to a minute but I would always turn the juice up a bit to catch up with him. Part of this was despite the fact that, in theory, we were competing against each other, we were also working together. Usually I am super quiet during my longer races but I found that at our easy (yet quick for a 100) pace, we were able to hold conversations on many various topics, most of which though focused on our mutual love of mountains and outdoors in general. I can’t help but smile and laugh at that thought. Two mountain junkies running 100 miles around a chain link fence in the middle of Renton.
Despite there being an aid station halfway around each loop, the main aid station was back at the parking lot. Gavin and I would continually run in together often to the surprise of many of the volunteers, crews, and spectators. One thing that stood out was that for the first 3 loops or so, we were being told we were on course record pace held by Tim Stroh. This was both exciting and troublesome. Should I be moving this fast? I feel good. Screw it. ‘Til the wheels fall off, baby!
One aspect that I thought I would dread but that I wound up enjoying was that at the completion of each loop we would reverse the direction we had just previously run. This would not only allow the “scenery” to change a bit but also to size up where everyone else was. I noticed that while we were slowly but surely distancing ourselves from the chase pack we were also beginning to lap some of the slower runners.
Another amazing bonus to the direction reversing was that everyone else got to watch us. They were actually cheering us on! It was so cool. People were commenting on how long we would stay together and who would break away first. Honestly, it made me feel really great. Not in a look-at-me type of way but just something more cleaner and pure. We were all there running this nutty distance together and we were all smiles. It was great.
Just after we passed the halfway aid station on the 3rd lap my stomach started to make some horrible noises. I was hoping I could ward off the inevitable for 4-5 more miles ‘til I got back to the main aid station and the restrooms but it was not to be. I was slightly ahead of Gavin at this point as he had stopped to water the bushes. I knew I wouldn’t make it back to the aid station but I was also faced with the terrible dilemma of knowing that just ahead of me were two solid miles of running through a very residential area. I had no choice as doom was impending. Faced with very few options I tried in vain to hop a short metal fence, tripping and cutting my leg and being forced to handle business between the trail and road in the deepest part of a drainage ditch. I tried to be quick about it as I was a bit exposed and sure enough a car started coming towards me and I freaked out, toppling over which made the whole process less than sanitary. Luckily as I was crawling out of the ditch and back on the trail Gavin came up behind me and was able to advise me on which articles of clothing I may want to swap out at the aid station. Despite what lies people may tell you there is nothing glamorous about 100 mile races.
We finally cruised back in to the aid station together and since I had to change and tidy up this would be my longest transition (around 10 minutes). By the time I was back on the trail Gavin was long gone. Not only did I not want him to get too far ahead but as I stated before, we were in a way working together. I cranked up the pace and after almost a whole loop of ill-advised speed I slowly reeled him back in.
Now I don’t remember the specifics of what happened next but I do remember feeling really good and slowly pulling away from Gavin. This was not a good idea. While I did feel good, I think that I had some residual leg speed from the previous 9 miles of catching up to him and, like a fool, decided to keep pressing.
The next two loops are a bit of a blur as I was now alone with my thoughts. One enjoyable part however was passing other runners either going the same direction or the opposite, who had been eyeing Gavin and me throughout the day. They were now shouting words of encouragement to me and this only served to reinforce my silly belief that I should keep running quickly.
I finished my fifth loop (mile 53) in 8:21 and my sixth loop (mile 62.4) in 10:03. I quickly did the math and realized that I had broken both my 50 mile and 100k P.R.s… in the middle of a 100 mile run! Cool but absolutely not good! I knew I would pay for this before the race was over.
As I exited the main aid station after 62.4 I saw that Gavin was coming in and I knew he would transition quickly. I didn’t try to fight it at this point. Trying to surge ahead and keep him off me would only serve to put myself in a deeper hole. At this point all I could do was keep running my race and let things play out.
As I approached the first biggish hill on the 7th lap I found myself being forced to walk for the first time during the race. My legs simply had no more uphill left in them. Fortunately I’m a hell of a power hiker so I don’t think I lost a ton of time. It was however a bit of a mental blow and before I knew it I could hear footsteps creeping up behind me. I turned to see Gavin and another runner right behind me. It was one of Gavin’s friends whose name now escapes me. I latched on to them for a while and we chatted it up a bit. Gavin made a joke about me leaving him at the alter two laps ago and in my mentally fragile state I actually felt guilty for not sticking it out with him. He was just kidding though and besides, I was fading. I faced the reality of the situation and told the two I had to slow down and I’d see them later. They offered words of encouragement and they slowly pulled away and I was once again on my own.
Despite no longer being able to run the ups I could still shuffle along the flats but my feet were getting pretty tender at this point. I started wondering if wearing road shoes without rock plates for a hundred miles on a hard gravel path was a wise plan. My one saving grace was that in a couple more miles I would pick up my pacer/coach Matt Urbanski.
Just before getting back to the main aid station I saw Ras and Kathy and told them that I was feeling pretty haggard but Ras said that Matt was just around the corner waiting for me. I pulled into the aid station to see Matt and his wife Julie anxiously waiting for me. Since Julie had a 50 miler coming up in two weeks she decided to run with us for at least for a while to get in a long training run. I was more than happy to have her along. I quickly refilled my fuel belt with more food, filled up my bottle, and we were out in a hurry.
We started running and quickly began chatting about all the events of my day that had led up to this point. It was nice to have company as it briefly took my mind off the pain in my feet. Unfortunately this distraction didn’t last long and I reached a point where the pain became unbearable and I had to walk for a while. This was not good as we were on flat ground. After several minutes I would feel good enough to run again and we would get to it. Sadly this theme would repeat itself for the majority of next 3 loops.
The first lap with them went by rather uneventfully but took considerably longer than any of my other laps up until that point. At this point I was really glad to have them along as I realized that it would have been much slower if they hadn’t been there. Matt was doing his best to encourage me to run and I began feeling guilty as I just couldn’t keep it together for more than a couple minutes. They were both very understanding though and realized I had put my body through the ringer to make it this far in such a short amount of time.
Knowing that I was now moving quite slowly, Matt made sure to have me save time at the aid station by discussing exactly what we would do when we pulled itto each one. This proved to be a great tactic as there was no dilly dallying when we got to each one. Sadly, I realized I had slowed down even more by this point. I don’t know if my walking breaks had become longer or my running had slowed down even further. Probably a combination of the two in all honesty. We completed the 9th loop in about two hours and twenty-five minutes. Yikes! One lap to go. I was in the home stretch.
As we left the main aid station for the final time we made sure to check the time so we could later compare it the time we passed whomever was in third place. While we were pretty sure we had second place locked up we didn’t want to take any chances. In addition to wanting to maintain second we also knew we could still bring it in under 19 hours if we hustled a bit. Despite my now severe foot pain, Matt came up with an idea to set his watch to beep every 30 seconds. We would run for thirty and then walk for thirty. The three of us hoped that if we kept this up we should come in under 19.
After about 45-50 minutes in to the loop we passed Nick Paterno who was in third place. I now knew that barring disaster, second place was locked up as he had to still complete his 9th lap and then head out for his tenth.
Optimism was now growing but the race for a sub 19 was still at hand. The 30 on/ 30 off system was working great and we were slowly but surely getting the miles down. As we made a brief stop at the midway aid station we saw Genia Kacey. She looked tired but determined and I knew she had been pushing it all day. She had first place locked up. This was awesome as she had taken 3rd at Badger and 2nd at Lumberjack. She was definitely trending in the right direction.
With about 4 miles to go I began to get nervous about not making it in under 19. I bit the bullet and ran as hard as I could for as long as I could. It felt like I was flying but in reality I was probably moving around an eight minute pace. I think I made it a whole mile before pain and fatigue caught up with me. While doing that really hurt, it gave me the cushion I needed to ensure making it on time, provided we kept up with the 30/30 plan. Relief washed over me and I cracked a huge smile. Sure, the race wasn’t quite over but I knew I could at least let my guard down.
With about a 3rd to a quarter mile to go I could smell the barn and began to run… fast. I rounded the last little corner at hit the stretch to finish line to the sound of cheers and saw my parents and dog waiting for me. I blew through the finish line for a new PR of 18:51.  My second 100 miler ever and only six weeks after I had run my first. It felt great! I was instantly congratulated by Eric Sach who had been working tirelessly for days. I then looked over and noticed Gavin sitting in a lawn chair, sporting his robe and beanie to keep warm. He got up to congratulate me as well and I was really happy to see him as we had shared so many miles together. Matt and Julie came up right behind me and we hugged and I thanked them profusely for coming out and spending the better part of the last six hours with me. A young woman came up and handed me my buckle and apologized for Van who wasn’t able to present it to me as she was passed out for a quick nap. I certainly understood as she had been running herself ragged for days on end. Eric took a picture of Gavin and me under the Pigtails banner and then we all relaxed and began recounting the day we had just endured.
Matt, Julie and my parents were all tired as it was past their bedtimes so they left shortly after that. I stayed for a few for minutes to grub on some food and thank the volunteers. Van by this point was back up and I thanked her as well for all her hard work and she not only congratulated me but gave me a sweet Pigtails fleece headband that I know will come in handy this winter.
As much as I wanted to hang out, I knew my post-race energy would fade at any minute so I had to hit the road. I said my goodbyes and thanks one last time then hobbled over to the car only to realize I had left the dome light on that morning and my battery was dead! The running gods smiled though and Van was quick to give me a jump and I was on my way. I realized I was indeed tired and was thankful that home was less than fifteen minutes away.
Once home I showered, made dinner and began watching TV. It was only then that it dawned on me what an incredible day I just had. Here I was back in my home, the same home that I had left that morning, and in between I had run a 100 miles! This would certainly be a day to remember.

                                              Gavin and I at the finish (Photo: Eric Sach)


Wednesday, April 16, 2014

2014 Lumberjack 100

     After knocking around the mountain/trail ultra scene for the last few years it seemed time to step up to the 100 mile distance. Hell, in some circles you're not even considered an ultra runner until you complete said distance. Not that I subscribe to that line of thinking though. I settled on Lumberjack after speaking with a few seasoned veterans who's opinions I greatly valued. It seemed a wise choice as it was a "looped" course which would allow me to become familiar with the trail due to its repetitious nature and thus hopefully eliminate or at least reduce the chances of getting lost once it got dark out. Also, it "only" had 12,000' of vertical gain. No walk in the park to be sure but as a lover of vertical gain and the fact that this equated to 120' per mile I didn't see this aspect as a threat.
     I left my home in Bellevue early Friday afternoon making my way to Edmonds where I would catch the ferry to Kingston. Once in Kingston it was a short drive over to the Start/Finish which was just a stones throw South of Port Gamble. I parked the van I had borrowed right along the gravel road opposite the start/finish aid station. This would allow super easy access to my foodstuffs and supplemental clothing that I may or may not need as the race progressed. I had the pleasure of meeting both the RDs John and Brooke as well as running in to my trail buddy Brad D, his girlfriend/wife(?), and their dog Kai. After some brief socializing and a short reconnoiter up the first few miles of the course I took refuge for the evening in the back of the van.
Leaving Edmonds
Getting to Kingston
 
     Despite setting my alarm for 7 a.m. I was awoken around 6:30 by the usual prerace chatter of nervous runners. From the comfort of my nest of pillows, blankets, and sleeping bag I heard a familiar voice call out "Matt Hagen! Get your ass over here!". It was Matt's wife Betsey calling him to the start line for the "early start" at 7. Keep in mind that just a week prior these two had run the Zion 100 in Utah and here they were toing the line again. They are awesomely badass to say the least. After the early starters departed I dawned my regalia for the day, ate a light breakfast, hit the head, and got ready for distances my body had never experienced before.

Pre-race briefing (Photo: Nancy Szoke)
     In what seemed like no time at all RD John had finished his course briefing and a funny 10 second countdown was upon us. No backing out now. We were off! Brad D took off like a bat out of hell followed by Terry Sentinella and an unknown woman. They were followed by Tim Stroh who I tucked in behind. Being the NW ultra-nerd that I am I knew Tim was a seasoned 100 miler and had won this race the previous year. If I got ahead of him I must be going out too hard. Soon it was just Tim and I with Daniel Kuhlmann in tow. I knew Daniel from his "camera on a stick" videos from YouTube. I briefly passed Tim after aid station 1 but he soon caught back up. He introduced himself and we would frequently find ourselves running together until mile 37.5 where he would finally break away. Prior to that we got to know each other and he was a really nice guy. We talked on a variety of subjects that started with tips for my first 100 and NW ultra history, and eventually lead to subjects such as paper mills, engineering, land conservation, Mt Pugh, a litigious America, childhood obesity, and the tragic Oso landside. It was great to talk to him and made the first 3 loops go by with ease.
Service road just after the start
     There was a period of a few miles during those initial loops when we didn't run together and during that time I would find myself running with Kirsten Casey, the eventual female winner of the 100. She was really nice and we chatted it up. We were both making our 100 mile debuts so we had that in common plus we had both run Terry's Woolley 50K earlier in the year. While we were running we were passed by a man who was running very strong. Kirsten asked what distance he was running and he replied "100K". I knew there were only 3 people running that distance, Brad D, a gentleman who I had met the previous afternoon, and Joe Lee, winner of last year's Plain 100. I knew it must be Joe and he confirmed it when I asked him. Joe, if your reading this I'm the guy who referred to you as the "Gangster of Plain". He was also very friendly but at his pace would soon leave us. Eventually Kirsten would also break away from me as well and given how strong she looked I figured that would be the last I would see of her.
     As for the course itself it was very pretty but deceptively tough. While not mountainous like many of the trails I'm used to it meandered through the woods along single track, double track, and service roads. Other than the mud-fest which was the Babcock Trail at the beginning of each loop there were no climbs that required power hiking for more than a minute. The course had a sinister way of beating you up without you knowing it. Much of the single track was maintained by mountain bikers and while they did a marvelous job the trail rolled so hard that I never felt like I could get a rhythm going. Plus it was wreaking havoc on my knees which I wouldn't discover till later. Add to that the stretches of service road which while allowing one to gain speed, would also tenderize your feet with their fiendish combination of gravel and small stone composition.

(Photo: Nancy Szoke)
  I can't say enough about the volunteers. They were top notch! Each station had a full on spread of goodies that even this picky vegan had no issues indulging in. Over each 12.5 mile loop there were three aid station and I believe the furthest distance was between maybe 4.5 miles between aid station 2 and the start/finish aid station (which was also the easiest stretch of the course).

Running in with Tim (Photo: Nancy Szoke)
  The first 50 miles were pretty uneventful which was nice. The only hiccup was around mile 45 when I went to take a sip of water from my bottle and realized both my hands were empty. Uh oh. I either left it at the last aid station or had put it down to pee or extract pebbles from my shoes. Not the end the world but it was a bit of a mental blow. Fortunately aid station 2 had plastic bottles of water for the crew and they generously gave me one.
    
 I could tell by my splits that I was slowing down but it was okay because I split the 50 in 9:39 which gave me over 14 hours to reach my goal of sub-24. Before heading out for my 5th lap I restocked my vest with myriad Clifshots, my windbreaker, gloves, and my headlamps. Headlamps plural you say? Why yes! I've heard horror stories about people breaking lamps or having trouble with changing batteries so multiple ones all with fresh batteries just seemed wiser. Although it soon got dark enough that probably should have turned on my lamp I found my eyes adjusted quite well and I wanted to see how long I could go for sans light. It was actually really fun running through the forest in darkness. It felt primal. Unfortunately though due to some of the more technical sections of the trail I found myself slowing down too much so on came the light. I had experience running with a headlamp so it was not a new sensation and I adapted quickly. Plus, the sky was clear and the moon and stars were on full display. If you're reading this and you participated I'm sure you enjoyed the hilltop clearing around mile between aid station 1 and 2 as much as I did. No light pollution here!
     As I finished my 5th lap (62.5 miles) I ran in to fellow eastsider and ultra-buddy Chris Bellevie. It was good to see a familiar face as I had been alone for the last 25 miles. Little did I know that other than occasionally lapping someone or getting lapped by eventual winner Gilbert Ondusko I would run the rest of the race alone. Pacers were allowed but for my first 100 I really wanted to see what my mind was made of (you know what I'm talking about Hagen).
     It was now 9:01 p.m.. I had been on my feet for 13 hours and 1 minute. Prior to this my longest run had been three weeks ago at Dizzy Daze (thanks again Matt and Betsey) where I covered 64 miles. The longest period of time I had ever run for was 14 hours and 5 minutes at the 2013 Ultrapedestrian Wilderness Challenge (Thank you Ras). As I headed out for my 6th loop I realized I would be entering unknown waters both in distance and time. In other words shit was about to get real.
     I was still running most of the course at this point but my pace had drastically been reduced thanks to the bludgeoning the course had put on my feet, ankles, and knees. No matter though. I was just happy to get out of the aid station because my logic was conspiring against my will and had I stayed there much longer I may have dropped to the 100K distance. When people say that 100 mile races don't begin till the second half of the race they aren't kidding. I was tired both physically and mentally. I also don't where headphones when I run so by this point my mind was starting to wander to some very odd places.
     When I wasn't thinking about "who knows what" I was constantly trying to convince myself to keep going. I had several tactics I used to accomplish this. Some are personal and I won't get in to them but there are two that I'll share. the first is how awful I would feel if I dropped. In my 50ish trail races over the last 4 seasons I've DNF'd twice and both times were due to legitimate injuries. How could I respect myself if I quit because I was tired and had a couple owies. Knowing the difference between hurt and injured is important skill and one I think I've mastered pretty well. In this case that skill helped me keep going. The second tactic I used to keep going was the knowledge that I was signed up for the Cascade Crest (Classic) 100. If I couldn't finish this how would I get through that beast? Also, I didn't get in through the lottery. I skipped that by volunteering last year. I convinced myself that I stole some legitimate runner's shot at glory by weaseling through the backdoor and to DNF now would be akin to spitting in the face of all the people who didn't make the lottery. Not to mention that Tim who I was running with earlier was a cofounder of CCC100 and that Rich White, the current RD was back at the start finish. No sir. F that S! I'm finishing this damn thing if I have to death march the next 3 loops.
     Despite my renewed motivation the wheels were starting to come off at this point. I did have the benefit of knowing that by the time I finished this loop at mile 75 my folks would have arrived at the start/finish and I would get a big mental boost seeing them. As I shuffled along staring at the ground as to not trip over a root a tiny woodland mouse darted out on to the trail. He was a fearless little critter as he seemed content to match my pace directly under my feet. Not wanting to hurt him I got up on my toes to reduce my contact patch and after a few seconds common sense got the better of him and he got of the trail. It was a bit nerve racking but made me smile. It's funny how when your mind and body are that tired the tiniest little things can have huge psychological impacts on you. This encounter made me very happy.
     The rodent induced euphoria was short lived however. About a mile later I was on less technical single track and was able to look more forward than down. As I ran I spotted something small in the air about 10-15 feet directly in front of me and it was coming right at my face... fast! It all happened too fast to process or physically react for that matter but not a millisecond after I saw it, it was now inches from my face. Disaster seemed imminent. I braced for impact but at the last moment it veered out of my path and was gone forever. I had just avoided a head on collision with a small bat. And no it was not a hallucination just in case you are wondering. It did leave me frazzled though to say the least.
     Confused and on edge I trudged on towards the campsite. As I popped out of the woods and towards the campsite I started looking for my folks. There was a shadowy figure I somehow recognized as my Dad! It was great to see him and I gave him a big hug but in my weary state I accidentally struck him in the head with my arm. He laughed it off and we walked together towards the start/finish where my mom was waiting. I hugged her as well while John filled up my haggard little plastic water bottle which had now become a trusted ally in the grand adventure. I actually took a few minutes to catch up with them and go over a few details about the remaining 25 miles. Seeing them made me feel much better and I felt like I was in the home stretch... silly me.
     I said my farewells and got back after on the trail. At this point my feet were trashed so the plan was to walk the first few miles until I crested the climb up Babcock Trail. Once I got up top I attempted to run the flats and downs but to my horror my knees and the soles of my feet were pretty much shot. Let the walking begin. I was pleasantly surprised to find I could still run uphill if the grade wasn't too steep as the impact was minimal to nil. So much for the whole 100 mile concept of walk the ups and run the downs and flats. My brain was pudding by this point and I don't remember much of this lap. In fact there were a few times I think I fell asleep while walking as I had moments where I felt like I was waking up.
     I would finish loop 7 at 3:57 a.m.. As I came stumbling in I looked for my parents only to realize they had gone to sleep. Son of a bitch! Luckily John was there fill my plastic bottle and I chatted with him briefly to get my senses back. He was very motivational and we both agreed that I could walk the last loop and still finish under 24 hours. I thanked him and walked out of camp for the last time. I took solace in the fact that every portion of the trail I now covered would be the last I would see of it. I also had the opportunity to say my goodbyes to all the wonderful volunteers at aid stations 1 and 2. They were so great and were my beacons of salvation after spending so much time alone in the dark.
     I was moving ridiculously slow at this point but I had a watch on and knew every inch of the course by this point. I would make my goal but it would be close. The sun was now coming up and I was able to turn of my lamp. As I emerged from the single track and on to the service road around mile "97.who knows" and I knew the end was near. I hadn't finished but I knew I would at this point. My body was racked so I just made sure to look at the time every couple minutes to ensure I hit my goal. After the two wooden mountain bike bridges at mile 99.5 I came across my mom on the trail holding my dog Kobe. It was really surreal. Apparently John had told my Mom that due to the time he was getting worried. In hindsight though I think he meant worried about me not finishing sub 24 and not actually concerned for my safety. Apparently Gilbert Ondusko had by this point woken up from his victory nap and noticed my mom had her trail running shoes on and suggested she go look for me.
    There was no way I was walking in to the finish. I would muster up some strength from somewhere and grind out some semblance of a trot to the end. I told my mom to run ahead as I didn't want to run ahead of her and finish with her behind me. She took off and I slowly but surely emerged from the woods, trotted through the grass, across the model airplane parking lot, and down the dirt road to the finish. It was over. I had completed my first 100 miler. 4th place in 23:54:52. I shook John's hand, hugged my parents, and then shook hands with Tim who had gotten up to congratulate me. It was a very odd feeling to be done. No tears of joy or jubilation or any of that jazz. Mostly just sheer exhaustion combined with this soft indescribable internal sense of accomplishment. I sat down by the fire for maybe a minute or two before I got back up to make sure I didn't forget to get my buckle. For seasoned 100 milers the buckle is perhaps a trivial item but this was my first so it meant something though I don't know what that something is.
     I said my goodbyes including speaking to both Tim and John about Plain. I had told myself that if I finished Lumberjack in under 24 hours that I would sign up for Plain. At this point I most likely will but I want to see how quickly my body recovers as Plain is only 3 weeks after CCC100 and I would like to me semi healthy before subjecting myself to that insanity. I crawled in to the back of the van and quickly fell asleep only occasionally waking up until I arrived back at my folks house.
    When I got inside I proceeded to eat a bean and rice burrito and two big vegan cupcakes from Cupcake Royal before lying on the sofa to watch the final round of The Masters. I got to see my favorite golfer and fellow southpaw Bubba Watson win his second green jacket with ease before I promptly passed out. It was a good weekend.