2002 Journal

Mar. 28, 2002

Well, back into the fray, I suppose. This is the first entry for this year, so let's catch up. This year, it's not just me...Steve Matsuda, my long time running buddy, who ran my first marathon with me, has signed up for this year's event. That has been such a help already. Last year it really got hard sometimes to do so much of my training on my own. Now I have someone to share the work.

We've already been training for a couple of months. The bottom of my right foot (where I have a small fibroma) is pretty tight sometimes, but seems OK as long as I keep the pace down and remember to stretch it gently. But other than that, we've been over 50 miles a week for the last couple months, and will be upping to 60-70 starting in April.

This year I'm also planning on going all the way to the top of Mt. Whitney, which looks absolutely great. Although I was pretty spent last year, I definitely think I could have made it to the top if I had set up the permits & everything to have attempted it. But I was so cautious, and thought I'd be crawling across the finish, not walking strongly.

Apr. 21, 2002

Sunday night, late at night, the day after Leona Divide. It was supposed to be an easy week leading up to the race, but on Wednesday, I worked out hard at the gym, then spent 1/2 hour in the 195f sauna and almost passed out. I went from almost puking to relief to the conclusion that I was pushing just hard enough to train for Badwater. My weight was down to 184.

Wow, that was a long one, 12:32. It was my 50th event of marathon or longer distance! I ran almost the entire way with Steve. Early on, I had been tempted to push ahead, and we were debating over who should take his car keys. He'd driven us out that morning, and he was debating whether or not he'd even push through to finish. But after talking for a few minutes, we decided to just stick together and try to enjoy the day as a long 'time on your feet' kind of day.

It was a spectacular April day. I don't think the temperature ever got above 80f, with mostly clear skies except for a few spotty clouds in the early afternoon. We got to run with quite a few people, including Chris Rios, the RD for Ridgecrest 50k, and Jo Karijawa, wife of Eric, also from Ridgecrest (who I had met last year).

The race was pretty uneventful through the first 24.5 miles, except for the fact that we had probably gone a little too slow. We made the six hour cutoff at that point by 15 minutes. From there down to 28 miles is almost all downhill, then a tough climb from 28 to 35.5. On the way up, we ran into J.R. Young, who's crewing for Steve this summer. His wife was ahead of us, and he was going out to meet her and run her in on her return.

I ended up pushing up the hill pretty well, and ended up about 10 minutes ahead of Steve at the turnaround. I was just getting ready to leave when he ran into the little pine grove where the aid station was located. He told me later that he'd actually gotten a little lightheaded several times on the way up the hill. We had a little under 4 hours to run the last 15 miles or so, so we pushed all the way back down the hill. I did resort to singing several 70's power rock songs to make him laugh again. We finally got to the bottom, mile 42.6, again with 15 minutes before the cutoff.

The next stretch was something that I'll always remember as a true gut check. From 42.6 to 46.1 is a grind, up a curving, winding single track trail. Last year, I had used the curves to my advantage, pushing ahead when the runner behind me couldn't see me directly. Steve was convinced we were looking at close to 2 hours to get up the hill, meaning we wouldn't make the final cutoff. But I told him flat out, we'd be at the top by 12 hours. So we dug down, and ran the darn thing. Slow, but we ran. Steve went into a zone, didn't & wouldn't talk, or even acknowledge my jokes! When we crested the top of the trail and walked into the station, he let his shoulders drop a bit, walked over and got some more to drink, then turned and gave me a high five. We'd done it in one hour, not two. It was one of the toughest gut checks I'd ever made.

Then we cruised down...my stomach started to bother me a little bit on the way down, but we knew we had a cushion at that point, so we took it easy. My folks came out to see us at the finish, and it was great to have them there. They are and have always been my biggest supporters. (Thanks to both of you!) I think my Mom is always a little nervous to see me tanked at the end of a longer race. I've realized over the last few years that to some degree you'll always be a kid to your parents, no matter what. I guess from just looking, it's hard to tell if you're just tired and dirty, or really bonked. Fortunately, this time it was just tired, and I was up this morning again to go coach my TNT group (just sat at the aid station though...definitely earned a day off!).

May 8, 2002

"Hey, what's this white stuff?" asked Steve. We had just turned around at Trailside Meadow, about halfway up the Mt. Whitney trail.

"Hey, it's snowing!" I yelled back. It was the faintest dusting, the flakes so few that you could almost count them, had to reach out to catch even one. The clouds had rolled in, gray but thin, and we were treated to a mid-day, mid-May weather experience. We'd left the trailhead at 7:30am and had stopped and started half a dozen times where we had lost the trail, backtracked, and searched our way out once more.

Steve and I had driven up Saturday so that we could hike some part of Mt. Whitney to see if it was in the cards for our respective Badwater attempts. I hadn't been up in 20 years, and Steve had never been there, so we were both essentially rookies. I'd had the chance to buy some cool gear (a new compass, some fire starting gear, and so forth), and Steve took the opportunity to bring plenty of food. We had breakfast at Mirror Lake, about 3.5 miles up the trail, without another soul around. The surrounding granite cliffs with their caps of white were indeed reflected perfectly in the undisturbed surface of the water. It looked a lot like a painting by this western artist named Bev Doolittle, where the brown and white splotches combine into majestic animal shapes.

The hike itself was pretty uneventful, although we turned around when we finally ran into a spot where the trail crossed a snow-packed chute that would mean a tumble of several hundred feet if we lost our footing. We're not adrenaline junkies, we're story junkies. All of that discretion being the better part of valor business, you know. When we got back down to the trail head, we popped into the store and talked to Doug, one of the owners, who had offered to accompany Steve to the top after Badwater.

By the time we got back to the hotel, Diana had arrived. Steve & I took a short jacuzzi, then we all headed over to the pasta feed for the Wild Wild West marathon. We saw Ben & Denise Jones, previewing their "Jones Experience" mugs & t-shirts for this year's Badwater clinics. We ate way too much, then wrapped up early and went back to the hotel.

On race day, Steve woke up and asked "How'd you guys sleep?" I informed Steve that he had, well, been snoring a little loudly during the night. Diana seconded that opinion. You just feel terrible when you hear you were the snorer for the evening...it's happened to me before at races too, and all you can do is apologize. We met Red & Sylvie, drove out to the start, and ran a beautiful race. For me, I took it easy the first 3-4 miles, then kicked it up a notch and was very steady all the way in. Diana took 2nd place woman overall (4:28), I was 5:21, and Steve was 5:56. Whenever you get down, or tired, you can just look up and see the snow-covered peaks of the Sierras and you're automatically recharged. All three of us had a great day, so I think this may turn into an annual event!

May 29, 2002

I'm going to have to come out and visit Death Valley in the winter some time. It's going to be in February, and I'll go out to all the spots that are off the main road, nice and colorful, with lots of stories. I'm going to be nice & cool, have plenty to drink, maybe even wear long sleeves.

We did it again. This time: Steve & Diana, me, Wendy & J.R., and Charlie all managed to make it out to the desert for the Memorial Day Badwater Clinic (2002 version).

Althought temperatures were a little bit low, everyone had a good time. Steve and I were happy that we were both able to cover the 42 miles from Badwater to Stovepipe in good shape, although I think we were both fairly well dehydrated by the time we got in (seems a lot of that goes around on these clinic days). A good reminder to drink, drink, drink. It's always a balance game, keeping hydrated without building up too much slosh in your stomach. I think the balance can be helped by staying a little cooler (misting and ice bandanas!) to keep your core temperature down.

Wendy & J.R. got called back home on a minor medical emergency, and Charlie had to get back to Candice, so on day 2, Diana crewed for both Steve & I going all the way up to Towne's Pass. It worked out really well, and we got into a very relaxed, low-stress rhythm. I can't help but be thankful to a great crew person like Diana, who I know would rather be running, yet puts off a day of her own activity to help out her beau and me. Thanks, Di!

Near the top of Towne's Pass, one of the coaches from the Leukemia Society, Kelly Clancy, passed our group. She and her boyfriend had been out in Las Vegas looking at fireman jobs he was thinking about. They stopped at the top and said hello...quite odd to run into someone you know & work with in Death Valley rather than the neighborhood supermarket.

After we finished, we cruised into Lone Pine and stayed overnight at the Alabama Hills hotel, which was great. We had pizza that night, then walked down and listened to a band playing outdoors. A number of the locals were inspired to "dance," although I use the term loosely. It was quite a show in all regards. The next morning we met Mark & Patty on their way back from June Lake and we went up to Mt. Langley to hike for the day. We went about 6 miles out, maybe up to 11,000 ft., and stopped at one of the series of lakes for a quick pause. Then back down and back home.

July 8, 2002

Last clinic DONE! This is the best part of the training. Your face is dry and cracked, but you've just finished running 80 miles in the previous week, and your legs aren't that tired. You're still hemorrhaging money, but at a slower rate. I still need one more pair of shoes, some drinks, and some little stuff, but the bleeding of the green has almost stopped. No more long runs (well, a 15 miler next week, which sound wonderfully easy) and then the race will be right here. The vans are rented, the hotel rooms are secured, and the plans are all in place.

Our independence day consisted of LOTS of sparklers that Mark & Patty picked up in Independence. They were a blast, and we lit them all in the parking lot in Stove Pipe Wells and ran around in the dark. There's no fire danger because there's nothing to burn. I got some really great pictures of this homemade fireworks show.

This weekend was very good, in that we hit about 118f on both days, and Steve and I fared rather well. Mark & Patty met us out there again and crewed me the first day; Steve was supported by Linda H., B.J., and Diana (of course!). With the way that dates fell, we were a little closer to the event this year, so we decided to cut it at 30 miles on Friday, which we did, both feeling fine. Switching over to a 1 mile interval between crew stops between Furnace Creek and Stove Pipe Wells is significant...everything stays cooler throughout.

On Friday night, we piled into a couple cars and went over to Panamint Springs for dinner. The food is a little more varied, and we had a nice relaxing meal...Mark & Patty were headed out to Big Pine that night, so it was on their way. We returned and I finished off a book I had been reading. I guess the A/C in the next room was out, so the others didn't sleep so well. The group had decided to get some more heat, so we went back to FC, from where we would head back toward SPW. I worked off of Steve's crew, and we did very well stopping every mile along the way. We had some pesky cloud cover, so we didn't get the full brunt of the heat which I had hoped for everyone to see, but it was still pretty warm out.

We went to about 20 miles, which is right about where our ice ran out. We decided that was a good place to stop, and Steve and I raced the last 50 yards to cross the ceremonial toilet paper finish line. We then headed back to the hotel; Linda & BJ took off, while Steve, Diana, & I jumped in the showers & pool for a quick cool-off first. We made lots of stops on the way back to stretch and get more drinks, getting back home around 9:00pm.

We really did have a lot of fun this weekend. Ben & Denise were in fine form, and I got to meet a whole different group of people from the ones I met last year. The thing that the clinics make me remember is how constant the exposure to heat is. That's what makes this race different. Even when you crawl into a cool room for an hour or two, any cooling benefit seems to be immediately sucked back out of you when you step back into the hot wind. (Does that always blow at Stove Pipe Wells?)

Everyone wants everyone else just to finish the race, and there's lots of exchanging of information & sharing of ice & drinks. That's what makes the race so fun.