Yeti 100

I’m calling this race the ‘Successful Failure’.

The Yeti 100 started out just the way I imagined and hoped it would. A large, nervous group of runners gathered at the White Top Depot and listened to race director Jason give us our pre-race pep talk/safety review before the highly technical verbal countdown “Three….two…one…go!” The collective group took one last breath then started down the trail.

I fell in step with my friend Ashley who has generously paced me so successfully at the last two Eagle Up races. She is a phenomenal ultra runner who completed another 100 mile race two weeks ago, and one week ago helped pace a friend for the Tahoe 200. I was in awe that she was even capable of standing let alone racing another 100 miler!

Ashley (L) and I making our way from White Top (Photo by Jason Green)

 

The trail is a greenway created when they broke down the train tracks that originally ran through there. There was nothing technical—few rocks, no roots, and no way to take a wrong turn . . . or any turn for that matter. The first 33 miles of the course are essentially downhill with the first 18 mostly shaded, then we turn around and retrace our steps back up the 33 miles to White Top before the final turn around to the finish in Abingdon. Starting off too fast on this easy-to-run downhill could make or break the race for the day.

Most of me wanted to run those first 18 miles at a very conservative pace and save my energy for the climb back up to White Top, but another part of me wanted to take advantage of the cool morning and get in as many miles as I could before the heat of the day kicked in. Forecasters were calling for 88 degrees and the worst of it would hit as we were on the most exposed part of the course. Knowing I’d slow down significantly then, I pushed a bit harder at the start than I might have otherwise but still kept the perceived effort easy. Ashley and I ran and chatted and those first miles were the most enjoyable race miles I think I’ve ever had.

The first time through Damascus (mile 18ish) I felt amazing. I made a quick stop to grab some watermelon and a PBJ square then kept charging ahead to tackle the unshaded and flat portion of this course. About three miles down the road my legs started to feel heavier than they should have at this point, and I had the occasional dizzy spell. I chalked up the dizziness to the way the shadows moved as I ran along, and the glare from the river. In hindsight that makes no sense but at the time it seemed completely logical. Ashley looked strong and pulled ahead, while I put on my music and hunkered down.

Starting to feel less than awesome. Photo By: Stephanie Moore

This stretch of miles is challenging mostly because it’s the least scenic and flattest. Without the gorgeous views of the river to distract, the straight line of rock dust trail can seem endless.

The Alvarado aide station was a welcome sight though I only stopped long enough to register my bib and grab a watermelon. This next section to the Abingdon turn around was mostly uphill and I was eager to plow ahead and hopefully hit the 50k mark at around the 5 hour point. I did, though it felt hard. Too hard for this point in the race.

Race Directon Jason Green greeting me at the 50k turn around in Abingdon

I took a longer stop at Abingdon. Jason greeted me and touched my arm to make sure I wasn’t too hot then turned me over to my crew who filled water bottles, stuffed food at my face, told me I looked great, then sent me away again to retrace my steps back to White Top. I would see them again at the 50 mile mark at Damascus. I was second place female, in the top ten overall, and was eager to see if I could hold that—though the women’s field this year was pretty stacked.

I started down the trail and savored the fact that I was finally going downhill again, but I didn’t have that relaxed run that I was hoping it would be. The sun blazed overhead and we were away from the river so there was absolutely no breeze. I kept having those dizzy spells, my stomach had a knot in it that I couldn’t explain, and even when I took the occasional walk break I couldn’t catch my breath. My hamstrings were too tight and occasionally my glute would seize up. I muscled my way to the Alvarado aide station and paused to regroup.

Looking back, I can honestly say that this aide station and the people working there saved my race. They filled my bladder to the breaking point with ice, and stuffed more ice in my water bottle. I got ice down my bra and ice on my head and while they did their best to hydrofreeze me, I drank cold water and ate more watermelon. I begrudgingly left there and started down the trail again only to stop about a mile away to take a potty stop behind a tree.

My urine, to my dismay, was dark brown.

Not dark yellow. Not a little brown. Deeply dark brown.

Black coffee with a double shot of espresso brewed WITH black coffee brown.

Now all my other symptoms made sense and I knew I was in trouble. I sighed as I realized my 19 hour time goal was out the window. Finishing in the top three females was out the window. I knew that if I didn’t do the right thing right now, finishing at all was out the window. This had to be the early stage of Rhabdo and I wanted no part of that.

I dropped to a walk and knew I would be walking for a while. While I walked I drank and drank and drank, then drank some more. The ice water was so refreshing I couldn’t help but chug it. I kept my effort easy and willed my body to absorb the fluid and keep my kidneys working. People flew by me, including two women, and I felt like I was moving backwards, but I knew I had to keep this up for at least another 2 or 3 miles if I wanted to make it to Damascus, let alone finish the race.

Eventually I began to ‘joggle’ in an attempt to make easy progress to the aide station before I emptied all my hydration containers. It was the heat of the day now and I was in the most exposed part of the course so I ran intervals and realized I felt much better with every mile. The dizziness stopped, the muscle cramping eased, and by the time I made it across the bridge into Damascus I knew I was on the right track. I was now 5th place female and thought I could hold onto this if I could just be smart for the next couple of miles.

Once again my crew jumped into action. While two of them refilled my bottles and bladder with ice, another one helped me change my shirt. My daughter rubbed my legs, and the glitter encrusted, tutu wearing Mr Inspiration came over and weaseled a smile out of me. I left the aide station feeling like a new person. And to make things better, I now had my pacer Megan with me.

Photo By: Stephanie Moore

I asked her specifically to pace me for these next 27 ish miles because she is such a strong climber, is the most energetic person I know, and if anyone embodies the spirit of a Yeti race it’s her. The next miles flew by. She distracted me with story upon story and helped me refocus on the beauty of the course, and we even laughed. Although going slightly uphill now, we were in the cool shade and alongside the flowing river that created a slight breeze. My muscles were aching and cramping a lot, no doubt because of the earlier dehydration, but we kept pressing on up the mountain and enjoyed the incredible views.

Megan keeping me going while I stayed in the zone! Photo by Megan Hardey

My original plan for this section was to run 3-1 intervals the whole way to the White Top Depot in the hopes that I would then have enough reserved energy to run the entire final 33 miles to the Finish Line. Instead I ran however long I could run and walked as little as I needed to in order to keep going. My pace varied from 8 min miles to 12 minute miles, and I continued to make fairly decent time up the mountain.

At the Green Cove aide station my crew once again dove right in. They were so efficient in refilling my fluids, feeding me, rubbing my legs, and tackling the other little niggles that needed attention that another runner asked if they were for hire! They pushed me back onto the trail and Megan and I began our slow trot to the turn around point.

By now my urine was a light yellow and I felt comfortable that I could actually finish and even start pushing my effort a little more now. But I could also feel the effects from earlier taking their toll already. Luckily I had Megan there to keep me focused and entertained and I actually had to remind myself that I was almost at mile 70 and wasn’t supposed to feel good at this point anyway!

The turn around at White Top Depot was anticlimactic and very out of character for the rest of the race. There were a few guys sitting up there who kind of waved at us and told us we could turn around anywhere. No music, no fanfare, no energy. But at least it was downhill for the next 18 miles and I was ready for that.

We cruised  down, still taking occasional walk breaks, until my toe caught on a rock and my fatigued body could do nothing to stop me from slamming into the ground. Luckily I was fine. A few scrapes and a little blood but we were able to press on.

My muscles felt too tight. I stopped at every 4th trestle to stretch. Photo By: Megan Hardey

It was dark now. I was tired, and being behind in calories wasn’t helping. It was harder to deal with the constant pain in my leg muscles, but we pressed on.

At Taylor Valley I changed out of my trail shoes and into my road shoes in the hopes that the switch up would alleviate the pain in the bottom of my feet. I also picked up a new pacer, Nelle, and began the final push to the Finish Line. The terrain wasn’t as steep now (though it was never truly steep, just felt like it on our tired legs!) and we were able to cruise along a little more quickly to arrive in Damascus earlier than expected. But once again, the mellow atmosphere caught us off guard. Now that it was night there was no music out of respect for the neighbors. Drought conditions in VA meant they didn’t have their usual bonfires going to greet the runners. Knowing I didn’t need to visit the aide station proper my crew set up closer to the actual trail to minimize my number of steps, so we never even saw anyone from the race team at all. Though my tired crew sent us off with cheers and good vibes, the lack of aide station energy overall was a little disappointing.

Part of why I asked Nelle to pace me on this last leg is her ability to turn lemons into lemonade. Since the aide station didn’t have the party atmosphere we were craving and needing at that point, she made our own. She played DJ with her phone and before long we were ‘dancing’ and singing along to pace motivating tunes. In between songs she reminded me to drink my fluids, breath deeply, and keep pressing on as hard as I could.

Leaving Damascus for the final time. Thankfully my pacers coordinated and got me a change of shorts after my usual ones got so soaked with sweat the chaffing was unbearable. Photo By: Nelle Fox

This time when I hit the Alvarado aide station instead of saving my race with ice, they saved it with noodles. My stomach was rough but I needed nutrition and those warm noodles hit the spot. I ate and walked then began the final stretch to the Finish Line. We saw no lights behind us but ahead we could see a few fellow runners. I wasn’t concerned about placing any more but it’s always a bit motivating to try to catch up to whoever is ahead of me. Eventually we passed them—a male pacer and his female runner. I knew that the only women who had passed me today were the ones on that earlier stretch where I’d walked, and I hadn’t seen this woman at any point on the course before so I was a bit surprised to see the two of them ahead of me. After the race another female told me she seemed to pass that runner several times but was never passed BY her. Maybe she was a ghost…that we could all see. But I had long ago given up trying to place at this race and wasn’t overly concerned about how many women were still ahead of me or how they got there.

The last mile to the Finish was quite possibly the longest mile of my life. I swore we’d see that arch around the next corner, but the next corner came and went and we were still running. Nelle was prepared to dash ahead to wait with my crew and be part of the cheering section when I came through, but I knew that if I was out here alone I’d slow way down and possibly curl up on one of the benches and take a 5 hour nap. I asked her to stick with me until the very end and I’m forever glad that she did.

The lit up arch of the finish was a sight for sore eyes, and Jason waiting for me with open arms was everything other runners had told me about. That hug was the best hug I think I’ve ever received and him handing me the two belt buckles for finishing under 24 hours was icing on the cake. Considering that 60 miles ago I didn’t think I would be able to finish at all, coming in only 1 hour over my time goal was astonishing to me.

FINISH!

 

I was 5^th place female, 15^th overall, with a time of 20:19. I think that there should be a special award for getting a finishing time that matches the year!

I was exhausted and happily collapsed into the chair. I didn’t shake like I did after Eagle Up, probably because the effort at this race was completely different, but I still felt mentally and physically depleted. Someone wrapped me in my blanket, and my daughter got me warm soup, and the slow start to recovery began.

This race is an unforgettable experience. The emphasis is truly about the runners. There’s no fancy bib punches or tricks to the course. It’s simply about doing the run and finding it within yourself to power through to the end. Although there is some elevation change, it isn’t obscene and if done right it’s actually possible to walk the whole thing within the time limit. The aide stations have everything you need, though I would have liked one more besides just Alvarado somewhere between Damascus and Abingdon–especially at the hottest part of the day. I saw a lot of people having successful races without crews or pacers, but I’m certainly glad I had my team with me. Reaching them made a great mental goal to keep pressing on to the next spot, and having them to celebrate with afterwards is always fun.

I don’t really know why I got so severely dehydrated so early in the race. My pre-race routine and foods were the same as always. It’s frustrating that it threw such a wrench in my goals, but managing hiccups like that is part of the adventure of ultramarathons. Though it meant saying goodbye to my time goals, correcting the fluid issue early on allowed me to get a finish at all, and for that I’m glad.

I’d do this race again in a heartbeat, though if I don’t make it through the lottery I’ll be there to volunteer and cheer and help others get that amazing hug at the end. Bring on Yeti 2020!

Three more races to go in my 12 Ultras in 12 Months Challenge. To follow along with my adventures in training and racing, please follow my page on Facebook.

As always, I ran this race in honor of Sgt Michael George, a veteran who lost his battle with Post Traumatic Stress. On average 22 veterans a day take their own lives. The number is staggering and way too high. If you know a veteran, reach out and check in with them. Let’s work to get that number down to zero.