It’s been almost a week after I crossed the finish line of the Bigfoot 100k last Sunday at 8:51am PST. I can’t say that life has gone back to normal, business as usual, back on the grind anymore. I felt that way after my first marathon, ultra, and 50m. Something about the experience out around Mt. St. Helens is different, was different, was unique.
I talk all the time about how anyone can finish an ultra and I really believe that. I like to think I’ve proven that as well, convincing many of my friends to try their hands at a 50k or 50 mile race. Of course, not all ultras are created equal. There are tame loop courses on mild trails, technical trails, groomed trails. There are safe courses where you can’t get lost. There are races that have some rolling hills or some short steep sections, but are overall flat. There are races that are well supported with plenty of aid throughout the race. There are races where any bad weather can only slow you down so much, or put you in minimal danger.
Then there are races like Bigfoot, races that are not for the faint of heart. This race, advertised as a 100k, but truly closer to 110k (68.8 official miles), is a point-to-point trail race on 99% singletrack around Mt. St. Helens. The race involves nearly 15,000ft of elevation gain and nearly 16,000ft of descent. There are only 5 aid stations, on average 13 miles apart. The longest leg of the 100k is 17 miles straight. Most of the race is exposed to the element on mountains trails. There is little cover to hide.
While the Bigfoot 200 is known for being one of the only non-repetitive 200-mile ultras in the nation, the race director, Candice Burt, started having 2 “short” versions last year in 2015– a 120 miler and a 100k. Last year, the 100k race had only 13 finishers and most DNF’d due to intense storms and downright dangerous conditions. As a result, this year there was a mandatory gear list to make sure you were safe. This list included:
- Map with entire course on it.
- Headlamp with extra batteries.
- Fully waterproof rain jacket.
- Wool or microfiber long sleeve shirt.
- Lightweight synthetic down jacket.
- Water purification method.
- Extra calories.
- Some form of pants.
- Hat and gloves
- All clothing items that are not waterproof must be in ziplock bags.
What are the chances that the weather could be bad 2 years in a row? Right?
Why sign up
In December of 2015, my trailmate and best friend Ryan sent me a link to Bigfoot. I read the description, I looked at the beautiful sunny photos on ultrasignup.com of Spirit Lake and Mt. St. Helens, and within 5 minutes I decided I was going to sign up when registration opened. The race wasn’t for nearly another year; I had all summer to prepare myself. I wanted to challenge myself and find a reason to explore the PNW. This race was perfect.
I signed up Jan. 1 when it opened and whimsically put the link on my facebook page, almost daring anyone to sign up with me. When you are friends with as many weirdos as I am, there’s sure to be one other daredevil in the mix who is susceptible to whim. That lucky friend this time around was Heather! She told me she signed up, too and since she was coming back from a long running hiatus following her Rocky Raccoon 100 mile finish, she kept this sign up on the DL. Awesome! I was immediately stoked that I would know at least 1 other person going to share the adventure.
While I’ve done a number of other races in 2016—this was always my goal race. Everything I did was in prep to conquer this race. With that in mind, let me talk about how my summer adequately prepared me for MOST of what I encountered at the Bigfoot 100k.
- Pinelands 50m—prepared me with distance. As only my second 50 mile distance, the Memorial Day Pinelands 50 was a good test for distance for me. While the race itself was boring, I would need to be able to move the distance. This race was the start to a number of summer adventures that helped me.
- Rainy/cold Vermont weekend. We may have only done 22 miles over 2 days, but it was windy and rainy and cold. That type of weather was a shadow of what Bigfoot was, but it’s always good to get experience around 4000ft. up in those elements.
- Big weekends in the White Mountains. There are 2 specifically that I am thinking of. These mountains are hard, unforgiving, and don’t know the definition of the word “switchback”. Weekend 1 was 3 days: Mt. Washington Road Race, Zealand Mountain, and then Kinsmans & Cannon. Weekend 2 was also 3 days: Tripyramids, Hancocks, and Presidential Traverse. Time above treeline in the whites, especially during the Presi were helpful because the ‘boulder field’ on Mt. St. Helens was nothing more than what my beloved rockpile Mt. Washington trails are like! Both weekends were filled with lots of elevation gain and descent practice, lots of time on my feet, and lots of time with Ryan! (Okay time with Ryan wasn’t exactly prep, but it made prep more fun.)
- Pacing Lauren during the Vermont 100. Oh man, we thought that night was bad? It was great prep for what I encountered in Bigfoot. I joined Lauren for 30 miles, from 11:00pm-8:30am through 3 MASSIVE thunderstorms. That was great experience running overnight and through the rain. I didn’t know it at the time, but it was exactly the experience I would need at Bigfoot.
- The Pemi Loop(s). The Pemi Loop is considered one of the ultimate tests in the White Mountains. I already wrote about the first time I finished it. What I didn’t write about was that I did it AGAIN about a month later with Dani (and Cayenne). The second time, we added another mile and another mountain- West Bond (#43). This gave me great time on my feet, distance, and elevation change training. Plus, those trails are far more rugged and steep than anything I’d encounter in Bigfoot.
- My August of cross training. I didn’t write about this but after my first Pemi loop (and with the culmination of my July activities), I ended up with 2 small tears in both my calf muscles in my left leg. I’ll get to how I fixed that later, but in the meantime, I took 4 full weeks off from running and I didn’t let that ruin my training. I worked on my balance, training the small muscles in my feet. I swam a bit, nothing less than a mile at a time. Most importantly, I put in a lot of hours on my Trek road bike both in Boston and during some time in NJ. I biked 30-40 mile rides regularly and was able to find some hills. I probably would not have cross trained as effectively if I could run/hike during this time so perhaps it was a blessing.
So how did all of these things help me? Efficiently and effectively. Almost all the elements were present in my training that I would need during my race (except for some pretty unique challenges).
Race weekend
So Heather decided to try her luck at the 120 mile distance, which meant that her race started Friday, almost 15 hours before my race. We met up Thursday in Portland, OR and I broke my 3-week sober pre-race streak with a delicious Oktoberfest, Blonde, and Hazelnut Porter from Alameda Brewing near our hotel. We both went to sleep early and slept nearly 12 hours, which was great. When we woke up Friday, we grabbed coffee, breakfast, and then were off to Marble Mountain Sno-Park to check in and get Heather on her way. It was a beautiful drive and after checking in, we drove around some to try to find Mt. St. Helens.
Well we found it.
I yelled and nearly crashed the car when I saw it appear. What a sight! It was one of the few sights of the mountain that I’d get that whole weekend unfortunately.
After we had the pre-race meeting, I got Heather mentally ready and sent her onto her bus, which would drive her to the start of her race. I drove back an hour out to the nearest town to get some sleep.
Race Day
I had no trouble whatsoever waking up and getting myself to the car. I was so excited, so ready to start. I wasn’t even nervous. I just knew that I was going to enjoy this and that I was ready.
Well, no matter how ready I was, I couldn’t start until we got to the starting line. All the 100k racers hopped on school busses for a 90 min drive to the official start at Elks Pass. I was on the third bus. After ~60min of driving, we hear over the radio “Hey I think we’re lost.” Turns out the busses missed a turn in the fog and were stuck on a narrow logging road going up a steep hill. 45 minutes later, the busses each had to navigate a tight 3 point turn. Our bus driver was beside herself, announcing how she hasn’t been doing this long and was nervous which naturally made me scared. During the turn, the bus was tilted back, going uphill and it stalled while trying to drive forward for a second. I was never more awake than I was in that minute.
Eventually we made it to the start a bit late. There would be a 45 min delay in start, pushing the official start back to 7:45am. Before we started, I had to pee. I ran off behind some trees and some other racers had the same idea. While crouching to pee among some foggy tall pines, I put my hand down in the soil for balance. After I had my stream going, I felt something wrap around my fingers and along my hand. I am practically gagging just remembering this… I looked down and saw a HUGE earthworm giving me a good luck hug. I immediately started gagging and threw up my banana and granola bar breakfast. I was also still peeing and trying to get the worm off. The result was hilarious: I peed on my leg/shoe, threw up on my shorts, lost my precious calories from breakfast, and fell over hopefully missing most of the carnage. Maybe 3 people saw me and asked if I were okay, to which the answer was obviously NO but I said I was and prepped myself to start. It was such an eventful pre-race!
Elks Pass to Norway- 10 miles. +2288’/-2691’
Most of this section was really enjoyable. The trails are nothing like the east coast trails! I barely saw a root or rock and there was nothing to trip over or roll an ankle on! There were plenty of puddles but the weather wasn’t so bad to start. It was foggy and drizzly here and there. If this weather held, I would be in heaven!– spoilers: the weather doesn’t hold.
The major event of this leg was around mile 4, when I was wedged in a group of men running and at the same time 3 out of the 7 of us yelled! Someone must have disrupted a wasp nest on the ground and they were out for runner revenge. I was stung on my calf. I have never been stung by a wasp before and that sucker hurt. It made me run fast to get out of there. I can’t believe there were wasps that high up! I learned later that they were stinging everyone who passed for hours.
This section was beautiful, with tall coniferous trees and views of the mountains we would climb next. It was a great warm up. I ran some of this section with various groups, but importantly, this was where I first met Dan—a PNW local who I would end up spending most of the race with.
Norway to Coldwater Lake- 17 miles. +3682’/-4834’
This section starts with a long, long climb up Mt. Margaret that provided wonderful views of Spirit Lake. After a long climb over the pass, you descend forever down to run along Coldwater lake into the aid station. The weather was still pretty great for most of this leg; I even stripped down to just my Janji singlet for some of this section.
This section was breathtaking and also mostly runnable. I hiked the big climb for the most part. I did not want to run out of energy, not knowing how I would fair once I entered new distance territory. During this section, I met Dan’s friends Jason and Kerstin. I would spend a large amount of time running with them as well!
Spirit Lake
The calf was swelling and red and oozy from my wasp sting. When I got into the aid station at Coldwater Lake, I wasn’t sure what was going on. I told some of the volunteers or crew for other runner what had happened and one person asked me if I was allergic to stings and if I had an epipen. I found this hilarious and just started laughing, which probably came off as rude. My dream of using an epipen mid race almost came true! Alas, I took a Benedryl instead and while that reduced my allergic reaction, it made me super tired. Oh well, no time like the present to fight drugged fire with drugged fire—I chugged some coffee. I felt good, I felt ready to continue. I was only 30 miles in.
Jason and Dan up in front of Kerstin
I cannot get over this photo.
Genuine smile, I LOVED this course
Janji singlet makes a brief appearance! Runjanji.com
At this Aid Station, I refilled water, ate half a veggie burger, and from my drop bag I switched my buff. Out I went for the next short section climb!
Coldwater Lake to Johnston Ridge- 6.6 miles. +2287’/-612’
The only view of Mt. St. Helens until we were on her!
This section was mostly a hike for me. I spent much of it alone, just trying to take in the view. We climbed up a large, cliffy pass that had a breathtaking open view of Mt. St. Helens and I couldn’t stop grinning ear to ear. I was so happy to be in this amazing place, in the rain even, just enjoying the challenge.
I got to the top with another woman named Kelly whom I was chatting with a bit. She worked in child research in Seattle as well—studying a slightly different domain. Such a small world!
At this aid station, I sat near the heater for a bit. I was 36 miles completed, just over halfway. The easy half was done, the hard stuff was coming. It was windy and getting cold. It was raining a bit, but nothing too serious. I was still carrying all my gear and wearing only shorts. I wasn’t cold… yet. I had some soda and a grilled cheese and some soup. Then I was out.
My only heat source for a while, and my last photo of the race
Johnston Ridge to Windy Pass- 6.7 miles. +1189’/-1244’
It was cold and rainy and getting dark. My iPhone doesn’t have a case so I put it in 2 ziplocks and shoved it deep in my pack. It would not come out for the remainder of the race.
It was starting to get dark. Headlamps came out and this is when much of our group solidified. I met another runner named Kevin from Idaho, Jason and Dan, and myself were to spend most of the rest of the race together. Together we hiked and chatted for most of this section, getting to know our stories and experiences and sharing what knowledge (or lack thereof) we had about the race. The time seemed to fly by with them by my side! We heard elk in the distance, caught headlamps maneuvering on ridge lines far away, and started to settle into a slower moving rhythm.
Windy pass aid station was a saint in the night. It was a couple of tents and there were a bunch of runners there when we arrived. Upon our arrival, the rain began to fall. I mean it started RAINING. It was raining a little for the first half of the race, but now it would downpour and continue to do so until well after I finish the race many, many hours later.
At this point, I could feel blisters forming on my heels. I had someone put some moleskin on it, but with the rain, I wasn’t confident that they would last. Oh well—nothing much I could do. I took some Advil and talked my team into heading back out into the rain.
Windy Pass to Blue Lake- 14 miles. +2818’/-3732
Okay. I was feeling really, really good at the start of this section. I was encouraged! Only a marathon left to go! There would be no views, no reason to stop. I had energy and felt like I could move faster than the group. I considered splitting and trying my luck on my own, but am glad I changed my mind to stay with people. This section ended up being incredibly dangerous and slow.
This section runs alongside and around Mt. St. Helens in the blast zone. There were no trees, very little scrub, and just ash. Slippery, ashy trails. There were lots of water crossings now as well, lava made streams carved into the mountain.
The trails were narrow, singletrack. If you slipped on one end you could fall and without trees or rocks to grab, you could really fall. At one point I slipped and at another Dan slipped. We both caught ourselves, but then we directed our headlamps down into the abyss only to see just that. We would’ve been pretty much screwed. I slowed down, I couldn’t run, paralyzed with fear.
It was during this stretch that the fun ended. I put on my rain jacket and my hiking pants over my shorts. I remember being ~ 5 miles into this section and thinking this exact thought: “Hey. I don’t want to play anymore. I am freezing. My gloves are soaked. My shoes and pants are soaked. I’m tired. I don’t want to play for another 8 hours. I’ll just stop.”
This thought was so profound to me at the moment. This wasn’t your dad’s first road marathon. This was a rugged, remote, dangerous, survive it trail ultramarathon. You can’t just stop and have a volunteer save you. You are on your own. Survival kicked in, I stopped thinking any thoughts at all and just marched. This section was long, but I kept marching.
I didn’t even think twice about water crossings, even the Toutle river. I just waded through—it didn’t matter, I was already soaked. There were 3 rope sections, where the trail was steep enough to require a rope. The first was a descent and I’ll give it to the trail—the rope was helpful. The next 2 rope sections were ascending after the river crossing and this was the section where I started to get my good attitude back. I saw the “Steep: need rope” section and laughed. This was NOTHING compared to what our White Mountain trails were like! I easily hopped up this 100 ft climb hand-over-hand while others waited in line to use the rope. East coast trails are not trivial, they are rougher and more rugged than most of this course (until the boulder field). We then climbed and descended for another hour or so until we came FINALLY into the Blue Lake aid station, a place I was starting to doubt even existed.
At Blue Lake, I was feeling hypothermic pretty bad. I was completely soaked. I got out all my layers, changed my base shirt and buff, batteries in my headlamp, and put on my down jacket under my rain jacket. I hung out near the lamp trying to dry my pants, but really, what was the point? It was still pouring outside. I didn’t even bother changing my socks because they would not stay dry over a minute. I hung out here and ate some more soup, re-stocked my gels and rested for a very long time. Kevin told me that this was his first 100k and longest run ever also. He seemed happy to have made it the 57 miles already and was unsure how the last bit would go. I told him we were going to make it. Dan left a bit before us with a pacer. Jason picked up a pacer named Angela who ended up guiding our group out. I am forever grateful to have someone cheerful to guide us and making sure we were making all the right turns. One more leg and then it’s over!
Blue Lake to Finish at Marble Mountain- 12 miles. +2614’/-3172’
This section starts with a long climb up into the boulder field, then you navigate across the boulder field, and then make the final descent.
The climb was brutal. My blisters on my heels were agonizing. At least I was able to warm up some while climbing. I kept my head down and tried to stay with Angela. She helped keep us moving at a great pace. We were over to pass a few people and get to the boulder field in good time.
The boulder field was nearly identical to what the Presidential Traverse above treeline looks like. I was VERY familiar with those types of trails and felt right at home, while almost everyone else was in a panic. The difficulty in this section was navigating the trail. There were no cairns and we were reliant on the sparsely used reflective race markers. We went off course a few times and Angela, bless her soul, offered to do most of the dirty work in finding the correct way. Once we found it, we were able to navigate through most of it. Then the sun started to rise. It was still pouring but the sun was coming up. We would live!
Or maybe not. The boulder field was very exposed and windy and we were done climbing and doing a lot of slow moving or standing. This did not help my hypothermia. I was getting very cold, and my hands were quite numb. I tried to keep them in my pockets as much as possible but the boulder field often required hand support. After we made it through most of the boulders, the others were much slower moving through it. I made an executive decision at that point that I could find the trail on my own at this point and would need to run in order to stay alive. I needed to get warmer and running was the best way.
The sun was up, the rain was still pouring, I had 4 more downhill miles to go. I had plenty of energy left, my muscles felt surprisingly fine. My only bodily pain was blisters on my heels. I ran those last 4 miles fast. Passing a few people on my way out!
I finished in an official 25:06:52. 41st finisher. I immediately saw Heather, who did not have her ideal race, but I was glad to see her feeling better.
Post Race
So I did it. I finished my goal race and all the associated challenges of that particular race. I met some incredible people, some inspiring 120 milers, and saw some terrain that left me breathless. I did the first 50 miles in 15 hours, and the last dark 19 miles in 10. Could I have finished faster? Yes. I didn’t leave it all out there, and that’s fine! I wanted to finish alive, and now I am even hungrier to perform better, to run more!
It’s not nearly a week after my race and my body feeling both awesome and awful. My muscles and blisters are fine! I use healing Band-Aids on my blisters and they are good to go in 2 days. My legs felt fine, I sustained no injuries. My shoulders and back are sore, and that in exacerbated by my cough but I was able to run twice this week. I am suffering from a really awful cold that I’m sure I acquired during that rainy wet cold night. It’s better now, but I was stuck in bed.
I am still buzzing from the experience. I walk around knowing that what I went through isn’t a common experience. Sure.. “everyone can run an ultra” but I would not say that everyone could finish that Bigfoot race. I know that this race has changed me, changed my perspective on what is possible and what I am capable of. I didn’t even seriously think about dropping at any point (other than in the middle of that one section where I couldn’t actually drop, thankfully)! I am hungry for more and know that I am capable of running longer distances and maybe more mountain ultra races. I’ve shattered my glass ceiling this year.
This week I’ve forced myself to never drop from challenges. No giving up because something is hard, or you are stressed, or sick, or tired. Case-in-point, I have a manuscript submission deadline approaching tomorrow that I have been scrambling to throw together a submission. While working with my co-authors on getting it ready, I could easily say “we can miss this deadline and just submit it some other place” which is a perfectly reasonable thing to do. However, yesterday when my advisor came in and asked me “Do you think it’ll be ready to submit Saturday?” I sat quietly, looked around, and said “yes!” because even if it isn’t, I’m sure as shit going to try to get it ready. (It’s not quite ready right now, but I still have all of tomorrow to get it done before the clock runs out! No DNFs.)
People to thank, important people!
First, I HAVE to thank Boston University Physical Therapy, specifically my PT Roni Mielke. She worked with me 2x a week to fix my calf muscle that I tore 8 weeks pre-race. At that point, I thought it was pointless. I would miss prime training time because of this and then would have to build back strength. Roni thought otherwise and she worked me hard and gave me homework that I did diligently. After 3 weeks, I was able to walk around painfree, even on hills! She gave me a green light to try “some easy running and hiking”… which was when I went for my 2nd Pemi Loop (it counts as some hiking, right??) and when I was able to do that pain free, I knew I was in the clear! If you are suffering injury and want to work on it, get a script and go see BUPT.
Roni and I with my “graduation” shirt!
And Roni, who is from Washington state, was actually getting married in WA the same day as my race! I briefly joked that if she didn’t fix me before my race, I already had a plane ticket and would just go to her wedding. Perhaps that was a little extra motivation for her to get me back to tip top shape.
Secondly, I want to thank my sports masseuse– Anna (Manna Massage). Anna is a magician with her massages and she’s great to talk to and will try to give you preventative advice. I’ve been going to her for about a year now and I recommend her to my running friends and will plug for her now. Go see her if you’re in Boston, especially near Brighton! She’s right near the Chestnut Hill Res.
Third, I want to thank Ruby and Jenna—my roommates who are not only really tolerant of my freaking out about everything, but also took care of Sky while I was away.
This photo is indicative of my roommates, I think
Last but not least, I really want to thank Heather. Heather and I were never very close when I lived in NJ but that’s not because I didn’t always want to run with her! She is an inspirational runner and person, compassionate in her job (a veterinarian), intellectual and well read leader of our book club, philosophical and hungry to take classes, interested in learning new languages, and she doesn’t give up on anything. Heather went to attempt a freaking 120 mile mountain race in the storm. She had to drop 75 miles in after wandering around with upset stomach and unable to eat or drink for 20 miles. She made the right choice to stop and live another day and while she might not believe that the DNF was okay right away, I hope she will soon. It is no way an indicator of failure, it’s just an indicator that she’s as smart as she looks. I’ll take the lessons I’ve learned from watching Heather tackle races like Manitou’s, Whiteface, and Breakneck Point and try to carry myself with the poise that she has.
So here I am, up around 11:30pm on the Friday night following my race. What’s next? I don’t know. I have Ghost Train next weekend and TARCkey Trot in November still this year. But similar to how I aimed high for Bigfoot more than 10 months before race day and how everything I did in 2016 was leading up to it—I think Ghost Train and TARCkey Trot will be prep races. I want something bigger and now that I’ve finished my 100k, I am ready to go for it. I just have to register first, but I’m going to run the Vermont 100 mile endurance race next summer.
EXTRAS: Want to see more cool photos? Photographer Howie Stern did an amazing job shooting the race, with a few shots of me! Check out his page here! His photos tell the real story, and also capture the real rain that we had! I recommend checking his photos out even for just inspiration!
48 peaks 