A Hundred Miles Of Smiles...No, Seriously.
Is it possible to have a perma grin while running a hundred mile race? The resounding answer I gathered while training for my first 100-mile race, Cascade Crest 100 mile, was no. I was a sponge when it came to getting advice from people with more experience, "You’ll experience the lowest of the lows which will be followed by the best highs." I prepared myself for incredible lows that rivaled my toughest life challenges.
My training for this race, however, wasn't doing a good job preparing for those lows. Although my personal life had taken a 180◦ turn: a relationship ended and I chose to leave a job I wasn't ready to leave, I had long time family friends in Utah pick up the pieces. They allowed me to stay with them in exchange for riding and showing their horses, something I fondly did in my elementary and teenage years. It also gave me lots of time to explore the Wasatch Mountains, bring new life and restore my foundation by taking a solo trip to Bryce Canyon, and I ran Squaw Peak 50 miler; which gave me a huge boost in confidence. -So far, so many smiles.-
The month leading up to Cascade, I was anxiety ridden with getting in final miles, staying healthy and the pressures I was starting to feel as many people lovingly "checked on" me. However, I chose training runs and company based on what I was excited to do: a beautiful solo PCT 20 miler; several short runs in Ashland with another Walla I hardly knew but now feels like a sister; a great night run near the Gorge with some equally great ladies; an all day venture near Teanaway, WA with non-stop laughs; and a double run with each of my pacers that was all smiles.
So, shit…would the perma grin I had be gone after I started the race? Did I not train hard enough or serious enough? Did I need to start digging deep into my darkest moments to be mentally prepared? I tried not to let those thoughts creep into my mind so close to the race. What kept me feeling confident was assembling a top-notch crew that would help ensure that my ass get across the finish-line. Ben Gibbard, long time friend and trail running partner (in crime), and Trey Bailey, new best friend/partner in general crime were pacing me from mile 53 to the finish. Rachel Demy and Megan Gibbard, also long time friends were crewing, cheering and capturing this adventure from start to finish. -I have to note that the amazing Nick Triolo was on board for pacing/crewing, but we realized I was good to go and that the 6 hour drive from Montana wasn't necessary.- Their presence along with my parents and other trail racing friends kept my nerves at bay when it was time to toe the line.
AND WE’RE OFF.
The sun was peeking through the dark, ominous clouds that all of us knew we'd have to deal with later. I felt great and chatty with those around me and had no problems hiking as soon as we started climbing. I learned there were a lot out-of-staters experiencing our gorgeous green trails for the first time and hey, it was definitely easy and enjoyable the first 10+ miles! I also had some good chats with Seth Wolpin and Dan Sears, two gentlemen who are well known in the trail community and always been friendly towards me.
Lots of smiles until mile 18ish, I heard the hollers and yells about a half mile in front of me but I truly thought it was someone excited to summit the top of our climb. Moving along well, I suddenly felt a horrible sting on the inside of my right calf. Then another. I look down and had a wasp hanging on by its dear damn stinger. Smile, quickly gone, and choice words came flying out of my mouth. I pulled the wasp off and took note that I had at least 3 stings that were literally a buzz kill (pun intended - I used this cheesy joke when people asked me if I got stung). I hiked the rest of the climb thinking "really? I was feeling so good and enjoying myself. Watch, I will be the weeny who DNFs over a beestings."
I now felt the climbs a lot more with the bee venom running through my calves and achilles tendons. But that made me all the more thankful for the downhills where I was definitely able to make up time. It also meant the first aid station where I'd see my crew was around the corner. This brought back the smile; hearing the cheers as people came in, the smile expanded; and then seeing not only my crew but my parents, the Canadian contingency, and several others who were loudly cheering, my smile turned into an all tooth smile that I couldn't wipe off my face. Laugher broke out when Ben cued a George Michael classic to help me find their location. Once I did sit down, I got full service treatment from emptying rocks out of shoes to getting lubed up to avoid chaffing. I left in great spirits, bees be damned.
The next section I ran mostly on my own with the occasional conversation. I was able to focus on nutrition and when a bit of headache came on, I took an Aleve that got rid of it instantly. Every time I thought of getting to Stampede Pass, I got a grin. This was an aid station lead by Matt and Kerri Stebbins, dear friends who I met through Rainshadow Running. They had assembled a kick-ass crew and had the theme Jurassic World. I had been excited for it for months, YES MONTHS, to see it in action. It did not disappoint. I was laughing, smiling, and so thrilled by all the dinosaur details. I got a lot of hugs and high fives there that made me feel like a million bucks. And of course, my crew and folks took care of me before I left. Oh, how I didn't want to leave that party...
...but it was time to start heading into the evening. I was actually pretty stoked to do some night running. The bit I did in training was invigorating and I knew it would give me some extra energy. This was also on the PCT which to this point was very runnable. I recall climbing and waiting until I couldn't see my feet anymore before switching on my headlamp. It was a full moon and it was peaking out through some real creepy clouds that made me think Teen Wolf was around each corner. IT WAS GREAT...until I didn't see any headlamps behind me. Or in front of me. Or any markers for a while. I then stopped for a few minutes waiting for someone else to show up. No one. I started running backwards and after 5 minutes, finally saw headlamps. "OK, stop creeping yourself out Gretchen and keep going" became my constant thinking process. Once I did, I kept plugging along at a decent pace.
Before I knew it, I was to the "rope" section of the course. Cascade Crest has a few stretches that make you feel like you are in a Spartan race. I had heard many stories, one of which was a steep downhill with ropes followed by THE TUNNEL. When I started my decent, I realized real quick to not be bashful about hanging on the ropes. It was steep enough in parts that I felt like I was repelling down the hill. The big-ass grin came back as I thoroughly enjoyed mixing it up. Towards the bottom, I got a little cocky which resulted in falling on my ass and losing my headlamp but the smile remained since it was just soft dirt. Once I recollected myself, I was on the road headed towards THE TUNNEL. I had been warned about a 2+ mile tunnel that was right before the Hyak aid station. Some people loved it, others dreaded it. I liked the idea especially since it started to rain a little harder. When I got to the dark mouth of the tunnel, I was ready to feel like Indiana Jones and bolt quickly through. That excitement lasted about a quarter of a mile and before I knew it, I quickly became bored with the same dark, drippy scenery. On occasion, there was a little mouse that would scamper by. This caused me to look and make sure I still had company - about a mile or so behind me was a small group which was comforting (oddly enough, so was the skeleton with a Santa hat labeled pacer. RD humor goes a long way). The hard surface paired with the slight uphill incline made me want to walk but that meant being in THE TUNNEL longer. I just wanted to get to my crew...
...AND the grin was back once I was free of THE TUNNEL. It wasn't too long before I was greeted by Megan who led me to my crew. Trey worked on my shoes as I was fed by Rachel and Megan. Ben seemed ready to roll and after about 5 minutes, so was I. Out of the aid station and onto the road, it was great to have company. However, I quickly realized that my stomach seemed a bit off as it tried to process the last aid station food. It also became apparent to both Ben and I that I was TIRED. We had crossed the highway and was heading up a fire road where I slowed up, became less talkative and then started walking like a drunk. Ben tried to keep the conversation going but I had short answers for him. We were caught by a few other runners who seemed to be going at good clip which I tried not to let bug me. At this point, the rain was falling pretty steady. Not a good combo - tired runner who was acting drunk while walking up a cold, dark road. Ben knew it too and prepped me for when we got to the next aid station: we keep it short and then pick up the pace on the down. The grin was definitely fading...
Coke is magic. I started loading up on it to get my heavy eyes open. I also had some quesadillas and stood by the fire. Of course the rain picked up and both Ben and I wanted to heat up a bit but we were both on the same page that we needed to keep moving. We left the aid station and started the 7+mile descent down to the Lake Kachess aid station. The fact that it was all downhill to the next aid was a mental pick-me-up and I started moving faster. Steady rain turned to heavy rain but at this point, I was moving well. Ben kept reminding me of that and as we started to pass people, the smile slowly creeped back. When the "barking frogs" kept coming out, I definitely had some good laughs. This combo - a revitalized runner who was back to laughing with a great but gassy pacer - would help us carry through THE TRAIL FROM HELL....
....but first Lake Kachess aid station. This was a good one to come into having some friends. The rest of my crew was napping at Mineral Lake but we had plenty of warm, dry extra hands courteous of Dianna, Rachel, and Gary Robbins. They helped me change, get food and keep the smiles going. It was a good pit stop before THE TRAIL FROM HELL...
...OK, I will admit that going into this section I had the most anxiety. I had heard horror stories of what this section does to runners. I had chosen not to run it prior to the race which was recommended by multiple people. But I went in blind. Thankfully though, I also went into it awake. I welcomed the technical trails vs. the fire road and actually liked the first mile or so. Ben and I kept a good conversation going which also helped. What didn't help were large streams. The feet coordination was not particularly great and that resulted in me taking a little swim waist deep. Ben didn't miss a beat with keeping the conversation rolling once we were to the other side so I was able to ignore my feet for a while. Grin was there, just not huge...
...and got smaller as we felt like THE TRAIL FROM HELL was going on FOREVER. What must of been about a mile and half felt like several but finally we heard and saw the Mineral Creek aid station. HOORAY! I got my Coke and quesadilla on which seemed to be working. As I was downing my second cup of Coke, I noticed I could see the cars parked a few yards away. Daylight was here! I would be revitalized or at least that's what everyone told me! This got me and Ben out of aid pretty quick because let's face it, Ben was ready for a nap and I was prepared to start laughing up a storm with Trey. We started up the 2+ mile fire road and damn, that's when it hit again: drunk tired. I was weaving up the fire road telling Ben I felt like I could sleep once I hit our crew. He agreed that maybe a quick nap and dry clothes would help. We turned another corner and finally, there was Trey and Rachel all smiles and a tired smile crept across my face...
...but turned quickly into teeth chatter. Once I stopped, I became chilled to the bone. Trey began stripping off all my wet clothes while I climbed into the warm van. I was so cold but tried to keep calm knowing I was in the best hands. Finally the van was hot, I was dry and after the last shiver happened, I was ready to hit the road. FIRE ROAD. I could feel the drunk tired come back but thankfully Trey was full of energy and keep me drunk smiling. THIS PRODUCED MY FAVORITE COMMENT FROM THE WHOLE RACE. Looking at the gloves Trey let me borrow, I said "these look like Days of Thunder gloves." WTF? That was both Trey and I's reaction but I was the first one to call it out. "Why did I just say that?" This comment lead to multiple smiles and laugher throughout the rest of the race
Photo Credit: ig // @racheldemy // @racheldemyfilm
Once we reached technical trails, I begin to perk up and start to enjoy my time with Trey. I started moving a little better and while I wasn't a woman of many words, I was smiling and thanking Trey for continuing to give me positive reinforcement. That paired with the next aid station with PANCAKES and friendly familiar faces was better than my Coke fix. I was able to leave that aid station feeling decent despite the most other runners staying behind to warm-up around the campfire. However, I forgot I had some serious chaffing under my bra and when I mentioned this to Trey, he suggested we go back. When I refused (because an extra quarter of a mile didn't sound appealing) he told me to keep walking and he'd come back with some. Not only did I have a smile on my face but other runners were definitely confused in a humorous way when Trey's pointer fingers had a huge wad of Vaseline. Trey being the gentleman that he is, gently applied the Vaseline under my bra. When he still had a lot left, I told him to rub on more. Still too gentle, I told him to just rub it on HARD. Yep, it got a little PG-13.
I believe this got us to THE NEEDLES. The Needles are a series of climbs that are pretty brutal when you are 70+ miles into your race. I couldn't tell you how many actual "Needles" there were but the Thorp Aid Station was somewhere among the Needles and was the most memorable aid station. You couldn't get aid until you climbed another 1/2 mile or so to a look out point and grab a ticket to show the volunteers. Semi-cruel on a morning that would provide beautiful views; flat out cruel with howling bone-chilling winds. Thankfully Trey could come up with me and we the company of other runners and pacers to keep our humor and wits about us. After showing the ticket and receiving some Coke power, we were on our way.
This stretch to Silver Creek, the last aid station until the finish, definitely was hard to maintain a smile. Trey was trying pretty damn hard to keep my spirits high but all I could think about was the decent into Silver Creek. The French Cabin aid station helped with my mood but only for a bit. Where is that descent? Why aren't we descending? How long until we descend? And then it happened...
....the descent. When it was confirmed this was the last descent into Silver Creek, the big-ass grin was back. When we heard people cheering, Trey and I hooped and hollered. Coming into that aid station with people cheering us on, giving high fives and giving their early congratulations was such an unbelievable high. We picked up Megan who was there to help me finish the last 4+ miles. I somehow found it in me to keep a consist jog going even though my body was ready to call it done. Megan and Trey were giving me all the positive reinforcement to help block any ideas to walk. As we got onto the road, Ben came running up to help take me in. Geez, could it get any better? The answer is yes. Trisha and Uli Steidl, two well-respected runners in the ultra community, surprised me and helped jog in the last 1/2 mile. In sight was my dad, holding up a homemade sign with my name and inside joke that only a few people understood. Rounding that corner, seeing the finish-line with RD Rich White ready to hand me my 100 mile belt buckle, and all the cheers of people who saw me through this adventure, that smile would have lasted another 100 miles.
Photo Credit: ig // @racheldemy // @racheldemyfilm
Photo Credit: ig // @racheldemy // @racheldemyfilm
Photo Credit: ig // @racheldemy // @racheldemyfilm
