Western States Endurance Run - Part 4 (to the bitter end!)

My pacer, Jess, exiting the river and ready to get to work!

Despite having been "on duty" for over 24 hours now, Jess was raring to go.  I didn’t want to give away any time here so I quickly let her know that in the interest of keeping our hard earned time buffer, I was altering our original plan of doing a clothing and shoe change on the other side of the river.  After our plunge, we would immediately head up the trail soaking wet and keep motoring.  
 

The river crossing was actually a whole heck of a lot of fun!  The width of the American River is spanned by a cable manned by volunteers every few feet of its lengths.  These volunteers have been standing in the waters of the American River for hours, helping each and every runner to cross the water safely and without mishap.  Earlier in the day, the crossing is a welcome dip in cooling waters and a respite from the brutal heat.  For those of us on the slower end of the runner spectrum, we could be facing a much colder ordeal depending upon the night time temps, hence my original plan to change clothes on the other side.  One of the few benefits of a super hot race day?  The night time temps were balmy and I didn’t have to worry about getting cold.
            

Jess and I gamely plunged into the waters after being strapped into life vests and decorated with glow stick necklaces (the better for rescue crews to find you should you end up losing your footing and being swept downstream).  The volunteers here were AWESOME!  They had painstakingly submerged glow sticks on the various underwater boulders and troughs that awaited us.  It was like an aquatic game of Twister.  Right foot on green glow light, left foot on blue, etc, etc.  All accompanied by patient instructions that they were willing to repeat endlessly to brain fogged runners.  I took the time to submerge myself up to my chest and enjoyed the feel of the cold waters on my tired body.  I was so very grateful to be washing some of the past 78 miles and nearly 24 hours of trail dust, dirt and sweat away as well.

Jess and I exited the far side, let the drop bag workers there know we wouldn’t be stopping for our drop bag and headed on out.  Jess was my whip cracking crew member.  She meant business and there was going to be no room for anything but success on her watch.  She was totally committed to working me as hard as she could.  A month earlier, Jess had come out from San Francisco the weekend of the training runs to preview the course with me.  How awesome was that!?!?!  She was familiar with her section and knew what lay ahead for us. 

I had ditched my headlamp just before entering the river and had been traveling for the past couple of miles using a small handheld light.  Thankfully, it wasn't long before the skies began to ever so gradually brighten.  Hallelujah!  What a welcome sight!  

The cutoff between Green Gate (mile 79.8) and Auburn Lake Trail aid station (mile 85.2) is one of the most aggressive of the entire course.  Luckily, I had painstakingly analyzed all the cutoffs in advance of the race and I knew this was a section of trail that would demand a lot of me and had the potential to be a game ender. 

Even pushing me as hard as she possibly could, that 30 minute buffer we had enjoyed at Rucky Chucky soon dwindled bit by bit.  We made it in and out of Auburn Lakes Trail with 19 minutes to spare.  Still better than my 4 minute nail biter at Devil's Thumb, but my 30 minute cushion was deflating way too quickly.  Jess needed to carry me along through to Hwy 49 at the 93.5 mile mark, that meant roughly 16 miles of trail on her shift.  

The climb up to Hwy 49 at roughly mile 93 of the race.  (Travel direction is from right to left.)

At one point, I remember realizing that the effort Jess was having me put forth would have to continue for 5 more hours to get me to the finish, and I knew I couldn’t sustain this level without crashing badly.  I expressed this to Jess and she adjusted on the fly.  We settled upon a game of “Let’s Make a Deal”.  It went like this “Run 100 strides and I’ll let you walk for 30.”  “Run 50 strides and I’ll let you walk 15.”  Ad infinitum.  This went on for mile after mile.  At some points, I would lead, at others Jess would be out in front and try to pull me along by sheer will.  She did it.  She kept me moving at the faster and faster pace that was needed to keep that buffer where it was and handed me off once again to Jenn at Hwy 49 (mile 93.5) some 18 minutes before the cutoff at 8:42 am.

We were close, oh so close, but nothing was sure yet.  I was so very tired by this point.  I had given a lot of extra effort over those miles with Jess and the drain was cumulative.  We let Jenn know about the “Let’s Make A Deal” strategy that had worked so well for Jess.  Jenn was all smiles and positivity once again, as always.  We left Hwy 49 with aid station volunteers literally yelling at me to “Get out of here!” (it was actually a little unsettling).   I had less than 7 miles to go.  I was supremely happy to be so close, but also incredibly worn out.  

From Hwy 49 on, it’s a race to the finish with no real cutoffs in between.  All I had to do was make it to the Placer HS track by 11 am.    That meant 1 hour and 57 minutes to cover 6.7 miles.  Sounds easy enough when you put it that way.  Heck, that’s like a 17.5 min/mile pace and I can normally power walk at 15 min/mile.  But the math’s not that simple.  My legs have 90+ miles on them and we’re not talking about a nice flat stroll around the neighborhood.  In between me and the finish line are 6.7 miles of trails with some significant climbs thrown in for ha-has.

 

Beautiful meadows after Hwy 49 crossing

We had a one mile climb out of the Hwy 49 aid station that just about did me in, even though it was only about 300' of elevation gain.  After this climb, the trail opens out onto a beautiful grassland area dotted with stately, wide-canopied oak trees.  It’s a meadow criss-crossed by horse trails and with open views in all directions.  Best of all, it’s relatively flat and very runnable (well, for somebody that hasn’t already covered 94+ miles).  I did my best, honest, I did, but there came a time or two where poor Jenn was beseeching me to run a few more steps and I basically replied with a firm “No” and carried out my own little mutiny.  Rather pathetic on my part, but I can’t change history.

Jenn was a trooper and stayed upbeat no matter what.  I have a very vivid memory of her pointing out a flower on the side of the trail and commenting on its beauty in an effort to boost my spirits.  It didn’t quite work the way she had hoped (I really couldn't care less about flowers right then), but the heartfelt sincerity of her efforts was what made me smile.

No Hands Bridge over the American River.  Roughly mile 97.

OK, so Jenn, with her ball and chain in tow, gets me to the No Hands Bridge (mile 96.8).  Here we are met by a jubilant Jimbo and Jess jumping up and down and going on and on about how awesome I was and that I was going to do it!  Jimbo’s summation comment to me “Just a 5k to go and ANYBODY can do a 5k”.  I had to laugh at his optimism as a 5k was sounding pretty daunting right about that time.

The final miles.  These last climbs felt like an assault on Everest by this point.  Direction of travel is from right to left.  This map represents miles 97 to 100 of the course.

Jenn and I trucked on through the No Hands aid station without stopping.  We had work to do (and hopefully a finish to celebrate).  The last 3 miles of Western States are not to be underestimated.  Just to make sure that those who cross the finish line are truly worthy, they throw in an 800’ climb at mile 98 up to Robie Point.  No way around it - it sucked.  Absolutely.  Sucked. 

I was cutting it close once again.  I know that both Jenn and I were constantly doing the math.  To have come this far and lose it in the last few miles?  It was a real possibility.  I just had nothing left, and that climb up to Robie Point loomed larger than life.  Aid station workers were walking back down the trail to exhort the last runners to give it their all.  They were offering buckets of cold water to cool you off, refills on liquids, words of encouragement…anything they could do to help get you there in time.

Climbing up from Robie Point.  Less than a mile to go now, but I'm toast!  Jenn on the right, beckoning me on.  Tammy on the left, chattering and cheering and coaxing me ever forward.

We finally made it to Robie Point.  Only 1.2 miles to go, but it was still uphill!  The trail dumps you out onto pavement and the last mile is a climb through the streets of Auburn to the Placer High School track.  I was out of it at this point.  I know that now.  A runner friend, Tammy Massie, came out to meet me and joined us.  My husband, Paul, who hadn’t seen me since the start, walked back from the high school track to meet me at Robie Point.  Residents of Auburn, race staff and volunteers were all along the last few blocks, urging us on with every step.  It was an entourage of support and positive words, but I was so very spent.  I remember constantly asking everybody around me for directions.  “Where do I go?”,  “How much further?”, “Which way do I turn?”, “Where’s the white bridge?” No matter how many times they answered my questions, I couldn’t retain any of it and would repeat my litany of questions over and over again.

Entering the track for the final 300 yards!

Finally, finally, the white bridge came into view and I knew where to go.  A turn to the left and the gates to the track open before you.  I wanted to run the entire track.  All of it.  I knew I only had minutes to spare.  This was my celebration!  The track near the finish was lined with clapping and yelling spectators on both sides.  I frantically scanned the crowds hoping I would spot our daughters, but couldn’t really make sense of any of it...the culmination of months of hard work and hundreds of training miles...the hard work of my crew...the support of my family...the countless hours put in by race volunteers to give each and every single runner the best chance possible of reaching that finish line...I was one of the lucky ones who was going to make it!   

The final loop around the track.

 
Finally, after 100+ miles of battling cutoffs, of losing hope, of struggling against it all, I had made it onto the track and was taking my victory lap.  My official finish time: 29:54:40.  Just 5 minutes and 20 seconds before the 30 hour cutoff.  It was an incredible journey!

And we have a finisher!

Jenn particularly likes this pic cause it shows the medic's hand holding me up by my left arm.

So happy to call this buckle my very own.

As soon as you finish, they engrave the buckle with your name and present it to you at the awards ceremony a few hours later.  I wish mine could have read: "Rachel DuBois and friends" 

These feet deserve some TLC.

Pacer Jess recovering from it all with a Coke and a smile.