The 50th Year of Trying to Hold the Western States Endurance Run

I ran the 50th Western States Endurance Run June 24-25 in a disappointing 28:54. 

I mean, 50 years ago a guy ran a horse race, and 47 times since then a footrace of similar distance has been held. (There was one fire cancellation and one COVID cancellation.) So it's kind of the 48th running in the 50th year, but whatever. By disappointing I mean it took me longer than 24 hours, and it took me longer than the 25:30 it took me when I did it 10 years ago. (And by 10 years ago I mean 10 years, not eight, though I believe I applied eight times in those 10 years, having not bothered to apply in 2014, and if I remember correctly, COVID meant they rolled over 2020 without a new lottery.)

I trained hard and consistently from early March through May 20, going as far as hiring an online coach. That seemed to work well, until it didn't. I hurt my hamstring running the Silver State 50K (more on that in my previous post) and babied my hamstring for the final five weeks prior to Western States. Twice in those five weeks I thought everything was better but then my hamstring flared up again. I spoke to four different physical therapists and did multiple visits with the one I saw in-person in Reno. He wasn't very worried about injury ("just don't do any sprinting or too much direct stretching"), but I still spent a lot more time on the bike than I did running. So I started the race not sure if I would finish, but hoping for the best. I still had two pacers and Amy as crew lined up, and in the back of my mind a sub-24 finish was still the goal.

About 20 of the first 30 miles of the course were on snow. My plan was to take it easy on the snow to avoid slipping and tweaking anything. I hiked/ran some of the first few miles with Barkley-finisher John Fegyveresi, and we both were ahead of world-record-holder-who-is-terrible-on-snow Camille Herron for a while, so I figured I wasn't doing that terribly, despite being well behind my 2013 time. (36 minutes by the first aid station, 51 by the second, an hour 12 by the third.) 

 

Camille early on

John F just behind me early on

Finally, the very last snow berm was done and I got to Robinson Flat, mile 30, in 7 hours 47 minutes--a full hour and a half slower than my 2013 time and and hour and 15 minutes slower than the race's suggested 24-hour pace. I still felt decent--we're done with the snow and my hamstring tendon feels fine, so just don't lose any more time, I thought. I saw my friend's mom and got a hug, and my pacer worked on my legs with his massage gun, so I felt decent.

Four miles later at Miller's Defeat I had gained 23 spots, coming in 1:17 behind 2013. Four more miles to Dusty Corners and I was an 1:04 behind 2013. Five more miles to Last Chance and I was 1:10 behind 2013.

Feeling not-awful at Dusty Corners

Then came the canyons. I tried not to bomb down them, taking smaller strides to reduce the pounding. Down and back up to Devil's Thumb. I'd lost only seven places and was an hour 27 minutes behind 2013. I thought I'd done decently, if not great. But on the flat dusty part between the two canyons I fell apart. And when I started to descend into the second canyon (El Dorado Creek), I could feel that my legs were toast. The pounding had gotten to both my quads and my hamstrings--not the tendon that had been injured, but the muscles that I'd babied for too long prior to the race. When I hobbled into El Dorado I'd been passed by 33 people on the entirely flat or downhill five miles, and I was now an hour 44 minutes behind 2013. This was especially disappointing because downhill running is my relative advantage. Running downhill is what makes life worth living. I am not supposed to get passed by more than 30 people on a 5-mile downhill stretch!

The only non-miserable part of this section was the one conversation I had with another runner. Thus far my efforts to start up conversations had failed. On my miserable descent I'd finally had more than a sentence-long exchange with a police officer from eastern Washington state who said he'd run Badger Mountain 100 nine times. (More on that in a minute.)

I stayed in El Dorado Creek for a while, trying to down some soup before tackling the climb out. The three mile climb to Michigan Bluff took me an hour and 20 minutes. I stumbled in, two hours slower than 2013, about to cry, and Amy ran up to me and gave me a hug, said "I know, I know, it's OK" which was pretty much perfect. It was just a couple minutes shy of 8PM, meaning my pacers could start at Michigan Bluff rather than waiting another 6 miles till Forest Hill. Scott was not prepared for that but he ran back to the car in his sandals and got ready quickly. We started moving along together, and I was in a better mood if not running terribly fast. I still hated the Volcano Canyon section between Michigan Bluff and Bath Road, and this year due to private property issues there was significant additional pavement between Foresthill and Cal-1. Other runners continued to pass me between Michigan Bluff and Green Gate, where I was in 297th place. 

After Green Gate the sun came up and my condition improved. I passed 15 people between there and Pointed Rocks, where Scott and Mike switched out pacing. I found some descent legs and passed 19 people between Pointed Rocks and Robie Point, and another three between Robie Point and the finish, where I crossed the line in 28:54.

I didn't collapse or anything like I had in 2013 (the weather was delightful, only getting to the 80's instead of 100+ degrees in the canyons). I got a post-race massage, then watched the golden hour finishers (those finishing with just minutes or seconds to spare before the 30-hour cutoff.) The last finisher looked like she really  wasn't having a good time, and the first guy over 30 hours came in completely doubled over at the waist, looking really rough.

A few minutes after finishing

 

So, in the end, I finished. I always finish, though. My pacers and Amy were talking while waiting for me, and one asked "Has Garret ever not finished a regular 100?" To which the reply was "Once, when he walked off the course out of spite because it was so poorly organized." Which was a nice little memory, since in my ~100 ultras and ~25 100-milers, the only DNF that shows up on Ultrasignup is the first edition of the Badger Mountain Challenge, where, even though Amy was ready to pace me for the last few miles, I quit because I was tired of running through unmarked industrial apple orchards and didn't think the course deserved to be finished because race organization was so poor. Interestingly, the first edition of that race came up during the race since the Eastern Washingtonian police officer I met and chatted with said he had run Badger Mountain nearly 10 times and he was in fact being paced at Western States by the RD from that infamous first year. (No hard feelings, organizing a race is super difficult, I just thought it was a funny coincidence: "Oh yeah, that first year was super poorly organized. By the way that guy is pacing me later today!")

I finished Western States without injury, but my leg muscles were shot by the canyons. I'm disappointed that I got injured, but it happens. (By the way, I'm never doing strides--a workout you take an exaggerated stride length at the same cadence to gain speed--again.) I was looking forward to having a sub-24 Western States performance and not having to qualify and apply every year for the next 5-10 years, but oh well. The first 25 miles of the course are pretty, it's nice to run a course with a lot of fan support and excellent aid stations every so often, I felt alright for maybe half the miles, I had fun running with pacers and crew (thank you Caveman, Nano, and Amy!), and it was nice to be part of the 50th anniversary celebration. I've got worse things to worry about than my slow time: the day after States weekend the chairman of my agency decided to (in my opinion) further violate our collective bargaining agreement and called us back to the office full-time starting in January. I applied for another job already, and if he wants to push the 21% of our employees who are eligible for retirement out the door, he's doing a good job. On a more positive note, I'm feeling healthy and am ready for my July race that is a little more my speed (23,000' of vert with some x-country travel in Montana).