In short - I did not finish the San Diego 100. It's not the end of the world. I'm pleased with the training I did, a little sad I didn't finish, and disappointed that I missed my WS100 qualifier.
The drive down was uneventful but long and hot and straight and boring. We spent the first night near a relative of J's in case she had time to visit. Our Air B'n'B host was very sweet, as were her three girls. We were obviously trustworthy, since the next morning she took one to school, and went to work, leaving the other two alone with us, and instructions to lock the door when we leave. Very strange... She loaned me her blender to make my pre-race smoothies. One of her daughter's was watching me, and her only comment was "Whoa... Bananas for days." She had a point - 18 bananas and a bag of frozen strawberries.
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| Strawberry/banana left and center, banana right |
We met up with my crew, my bestie E and her husband B. Lunch was at Stone Brewing, followed by a brewery tour. You know, for heat acclimation. They stayed an extra night in San Diego and Jason and I headed out to Lake Cuyamaca for check in and camp set up. The briefing was thorough but not overkill. After collecting my entry swag (drawstring bag, tech shirt, injinji socks, and a bottle) I got my photo taken for UltraLive.
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| See how pink already? HOT! |
I finished all my smoothies, and settled in around 9:30 (I think?). I actually slept really well, particularly considering it was pre-race, in a tent, and J was snoring away. We headed to the start line around 4:45 so I could collect my number in plenty of time for the 6:00 start.
The conga line was slow slow heading out, which was bothering some runners, occasionally me too. It was hot (for me) by 7am, and we were already heading up our first big climb. There was some chatter here and there among people I would be leapfrogging with all day. I already had that thick-headed feeling that is not a good sign for me, so focused on trying to keep my heart rate down and fluid intake. There was a fun descent to the first aid station, which was a hive of activity. I was able to get in and out quickly, and was so grateful to the sponsor (Running Skirts) for providing cooling buffs. Ice cold water shouldn't feel so good on my neck at 8am! I was a little ahead of pace so made a note to keep an eye on my watch and keep something in the tank for later.
The course was rolling, and the day just kept getting hotter. By about 11:00 I was struggling to keep cool. It was a huge relief to come into the first crew aid station, even though E and B hadn't made it there yet. J was waiting for me with giant ice pops! Best thing I've ever taken out on trail. I refilled my bottles, refreshed my buff, stuffed ice anywhere I could, and set off to hit the Pacific Crest Trail.Spectacular views, hot, exposed, and rolling in a generally upwards direction. I had to slow way down to manage the heat, even stopping a couple of times. I tried to keep hydrated, but wasn't succeeding too well. This section saw several runners death marching, and a few puking. One guy was passed out on a rock - he said he sat down because he felt dizzy, and wasn't sure how long ago that was. Not good! There were a few times I kicked rocks and nearly went down a few times. At one point I did fall, and managed to roll off the side of the trail. Fortunately there was enough brush to stop me going far, as opposed to some of the sheer drops I saw elsewhere. I gave myself some nice bruises in the process. I also think it was somewhere along here that I broke my toe, but I didn't realise it was broken until our hike on Sunday (because everyone climbs a mountain 2 days after DNFing a 100 miler, right?)
It was a huge relief to arrive at the aid station and try to cool off. According to E I looked better than many of the runners she had seen come through but I wasn't feeling it. I didn't realise how dehydrated I was, my feet were hurting which I put down to them swelling in the heat. I changed into bigger shoes but the damage was done. I let E know that I was in survival mode and just trying to keep moving. I did mention that I could probably go faster if someone could turn the sun off for me, which was agreed by those nearby. The next section is a bit blurry, I was hot, dehydrated, nauseous but not puking, and just not having fun. I kept telling myself that night time would be better, and one foot in front of the other would get me there.
Sometimes I was with other runners, mostly I was alone. There were more runners napping on the side of the trail along here too, maybe 3? I really wished I could join them, and it was still only the afternoon. I didn't realise the next aid wasn't a crew station and was a little sad that I had been anticipating seeing them. The next section had some slightly technical sections (probably not very technical if you're not 5'2 and already tired). Then came the big hill everyone had been talking about. The volunteers warned it would be long and hot, so I armed myself with ice anywhere and everywhere and full bottles and took off. I passed THREE runners heading BACK to the aid station to drop out and a fourth weighing his options that I couldn't persuade to hike with me. I actually passed several people on the climb, which went on for what might have been forever, and had a few pretty steep sections. I was very pleased to find I actually had some good climbing strength left but could feel that my feet weren't exactly thrilled with me. I finally rolled in to Penny Pines 1, and was really happy to see E walking down the trail towards me. I took a seat for a couple of minutes while my pack was filled and I was brought various snack offerings. E was promptly asked to leave and we were informed that if the RD came by while she was there I could be disqualified. Yikes! They promised we could have crew at the next aid though, so off I went.
My planning went askew here, since I was so far off schedule, I hadn't planted a headlamp anywhere. Fortunately I had my phone with me and was able to use the dim light on it which helped, and my new runner friend J offered to stick with me until the aid station. We had been running about the same pace and both were grateful for some conversation. My feet were really getting painful and I knew a blister was forming. I've never had to deal with blisters running, so this was new for me. As soon as we reached the aid station I set to work trying to remedy what was the biggest yet hardest to see blister ever. E and B were both shining light on it and a volunteer was helping while I tried to drain it. 12 holes in my foot later and it was clear this blister was in for the long haul. It didn't occur to me that the sore area on the heel of the other foot was a blister, so I didn't take that shoe off. They hadn't brought my crew bags up so my clean shirt, my fully charged GPS, and neither of my lights were available but I got a loaner headlight, not as comfy or bright as mine but better than my phone. I should have asked them to go get my stuff but I was trying not to be the cranky runner. I was pushed back out onto the trail with a handful of M&Ms and a promise that my foot would just go numb soon. Ha! Blisters pictures taken the next day are available upon request ;) 3 weeks later and the one I tried to fix is still trying to heal. The spot on my heel turned out to be quite the monster too. I'll save you the gory details...
The next few miles were the most difficult. Just like at Zion 100, my brain shut down and I went to sleep. I jolted awake after a couple of strides but a few times I walked off trail. I have GOT to figure this out before November! I remembered a trick that I'd heard about if you take a nap during a race, to lay with your head facing the direction you need to travel, so if you're disoriented when you wake up you don't start going backwards. Laying down to sleep really felt like a good plan so I kept my feet moving! Even though my feet were on fire and I couldn't stay awake, my legs really felt pretty good. Just every time I tried to run the searing pain in my feet shut me down. I was also having trouble regulating body temperature; I would go from freezing with teeth chattering, to sweating like mad. Turns out, it wasn't me, it was really weird little pockets along the trail. Eventually a runner and her pacer caught up to me, and I moved out with them hiking and chatting together. I felt a lot more awake having company, and the brighter combination of 3 lights seemed to help. After a couple of miles with them, a runner came flying down the trail towards us, and paused to let us know that we needn't push the pace because the aid station was closed so take it easy. I was both disheartened and relieved. Soon after, S appeared to "run" me in. He was surprised at my good spirit and how well I was moving until I explained the extra pounding of running was too much for my poorly feet.
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| Hiking with my crew 2 days later |
At the aid station, I heard that the temperature on trail had been recorded at 108, possibly hotter in some places. There's no way I could prepare for that living and training on the coast. I'm not sure what happened with my feet, it was a new scenario. I have a couple of ideas to try, and think maybe dehyhdration was part of it. Muscle wise I recovered very quickly, and my toe is just about healed - it now only hurts when I poke it. It shows just how fickle ultras are. I had trained my hardest and smartest, worked hard at improving my nutrition, set huge PRs at both the 50k and 50m distances, and it just wasn't my day. There's not much I can do about heat, except be in it as much as possible (I'm currently at E's place near Grass Valley to get some hot runs and rides in).
