Monday, June 28 2004:

Well, I'm now drinking my first beer in a month, and its time to write my post-Western 
States log entry and race report.

What can I say - I've wanted a finish at WS for a long time.  This was my fourth attempt 
in as many years, and finally, SUCCESS!!!!!!!!!!!!  I have my trusty 
crew/support/coaches/etc. Don Lundell and Gillian Robinson to thank help making it all 
happen.

Here's a blow-by-blow description (likely to be a bit long):

I slept pretty well for the night before - almost 6 hours - usually I'm tossing and 
turning, but not this time.  Gillian had taped my feet the afternoon before, so no 
prerace shower, so that was worth at least a few minutes of extra sleep.
I drove to the start; Shannon Weil (a WS Board member) had arranged with Lucinda Fisher's 
help to have her sister drive my car to Auburn, so I needed to leave it close to the 
start, even though I was only a few minutes of walking away.  I picked up my number and 
made my way to the start.

At precisely 5AM, the (shot)gun went off, and so did we, up the hill towards Emigrant 
Pass, the high point at 8750 ft.  I felt pretty good, and powerwalked the entire 
distance.  I passed the Escarpment aid station and scrambled over the Escarpment climb.  
Making my way through one of only 2 snow patches on the trail, I went over the pass and 
made my way down the other side, entering the Granite Chief Wilderness area.  I was 
wearing an old WS Tyvek jacket and gloves, which I eventually took off, and put on 
fingerless gloves which I wore until the finish.  I ran for a while with Christina 
Brownson before she got ahead of me, running at a relaxing pace on the up-and-down, 
twisty, rocky, scenic trail.

I reached Lyon Ridge at a comfortable pace, stocked up, then continued making my way to 
Red Star Ridge, the location of the first of my (8) drop boxes.  There I got rid of the 
jacket and gloves.  Concerned that I was only 20 minutes under the 9:30 cutoff, I decided 
to push it a bit on the 7.8 mile Soda Springs Road (dirt) into Robinson Flat.

Robinson was the first time my crew would see me.  Don and Gillian insisted that I sit, 
so I did, while they waited on me with sandwiches and other food.  As I left for Little 
Bald Mountain, I was surprise to see Christina still in the aid station; except for the 
briefest of moments at Last Chance, it would be the last I would see her until the 
finish.

Little Bald Mountain had been a major problem for me in prior years (the climbing and the 
heat), but due to my hill training and cooler weather, it didn't bother me at all.  I 
caught up with Lisa Felder and Peter Zisko along the way, and eventually reached the aid 
station.  Last year I was very frustrated and upset at this point (and everyone had 
noticed), but I had promised myself that this year I would go through smiling, so I did.

Leaving LBM, the next stretch was the long, difficult downhill along Cavanaugh Ridge to 
the Deep Canyon aid station.  I passed Rob Apple, commenting to him that this must be his 
3 millionth ultra (he's done a LOT, but I forget the number...).  I passed Peter for the 
last time, and after descending for what seemed like forever, I reached Deep Canyon, and 
the beginning of a long (and for me) difficult dirt road section.  I had been steadily 
gaining on both the 30-hour and cutoff paces, but running on the road slowed me down a 
bit.  After another "forever", I reached the aptly-named Dusty Corners aid station.
A number of friends were working this aid station, including Doug White and his Dad, 
Frances Shultze (who had made me a sandwich), and Dave Wibblesmann, from the Palo Alto 
Run Club.  I inhaled the sandwich and made my way to the Pucker Point Trail, the way to 
Last Chance.

In past years, the Pucker Point Trail has been one of my favorite sections of the course, 
but this year it was slow going.  I found it a bit difficult to run with any sustained 
effort.  I was also very aware of my splits from 2002, and I was falling behind those, 
which was a bit disconcerting.  Despite all of that, I eventually made it to Last Chance 
- the aid station manned by the Stevens Creek Striders, my club (well, at least one of 
them ...).  As I had done in 2002, I yelled "Striders!" as I entered the aid station.  
Unlike 2002, however, I felt strong and did not have any reason to have to hang around 
except for the usual things (I had some blister problems to fix in the 2002 race).  I got 
a sandwich (though not from my drop bag), a bit of fruit, said hello and goodbye, and 
headed out.

The Canyons:  In past years, I dreaded them.  This year, in a way, I relished the 
challenge.  I think the difference was my hill training.  For a number of weeks before 
the race, I had spent many sessions powerwalking up Mission Peak and running back down.  
This was a perfect training run for the canyons: a long, somewhat steep, hot uphill 
(complete with a rocky, steeper climb to reach the summit), followed by a steep rocky 
descent at the beginning, then a long sustained downhill to return.  So, in the WS 
Training Camp I had found that this training was paying off, as I felt quite comfortable 
in both the descents and climbs, and very few people passed me, especially on the climbs.

With that mindset, I set off for the first of the canyons: Deadwood.  This one features a 
long, steep, rocky descent to the so-called Swinging Bridge, followed by a brutal climb 
to Devils Thumb (the toughest climb in the race).  I have developed this technique of 
floating down the hills, letting gravity seemingly take over and not pushing or resisting 
the pace.  This I did quite comfortably all the way to the bottom and the bridge.  A 
couple of runners passed me on the way, but I quickly passed them back as I started on 
the subsequent climb to Devils Thumb.  The weather was kind to all of us, but I felt that 
I would have been OK even with the more-normal hotter temperatures as I had spent time 
heat-training in the sauna with layers of clothes prior to the race.  At any rate, I used 
a method of "marching" up the hill by keeping a cadence which I did not vary for the 
entire distance, which made the climb (relatively) easy for me.

At the top, I was weighed and was just a couple of pounds over my weight (good).  I had 
another sandwich then headed off, walking a bit, then running most of the rest of the way 
to the next descent into El Dorado Canyon (just like the training camp).  I should 
mention that I was tracking my time relative to the 30-hour pace and was pretty 
consistently 20-40 minutes under.  I passed the Deadwood Cemetery and started down the 
next canyon, again floating down the hill.  This time I caught up with and passed several 
runners whose quads seemed to be shot.  I felt like I could have run 10 canyons at the 
pace I was going (and using the cadence method of climbing).  I eventually got to the 
bottom, grabbed a bite at the aid station there, then started climbing to Michigan Bluff.  
Again the climb was not too stressful at all, and I eventually got to the top in good 
shape (though beginning to tire just a bit).

At Michigan I had stashed my lights and some of my night gear; I had planned to leave my 
sunglasses there and switch to another hat.  When I arrived, Barry Fisher met me and 
asked if I would like Lucinda to run with me to Foresthill.  This was an offer I could 
not refuse.  I had 2 or 3 cups of chicken soup and a little Coke, then we set off.  After 
a couple of minutes down the road I had realized that in the haste of getting ready to 
leave that I had forgotten my lights and hat change.  Lucinda yelled to Barry for the 
lights (he ran them out to me) and she switched hats with me as well.  We then set off 
for Volcano Canyon and Foresthill.

Volcano Canyon has always been a trouble spot for me due to the steep rocky trail 
approaching the creek and having (usually, though not this year) to either wade across or 
step over rocks while trying desperately not to slip and fall into the water.  I was glad 
to have Lucinda along, who was very encouraging and helpful in keeping me focused on the 
business at hand and not letting my concerns about the trail get the better of me.  It 
was also beginning to get dark so I was glad to have the lights.  I made it down to the 
bottom and across the creek bed without incident, and we climbed our way to Bath Road and 
the approach to Foresthill.

We reached Foresthill at around 8:20 and Don and Gillian (along with Karen Guenther and 
Dave Wibblesmann) were there to meet me.  I told Don I needed desperately to use the 
bathroom, so we set off for the school behind the aid station.  On the way, we passed the 
checkout station; I told the person there I wasn't yet leaving, but she must have checked 
me out anyway as I saw from the recorded splits that I had spent only one minute at 
Foresthill!  Returning to the aid station, Don, Gillian and Lucinda had moved my drop 
bags next to the checkout area.  For only the second (and last) time I sat briefly to eat 
and drink before Don and I set off for the California Street section of the course.

We started down the road walking until we reached the turn for the trailhead.  After 
crossing Mosquito Ridge Road, we started the slog down the trail, and we started running 
at a comfortable pace.  This is a nice gentle downhill section and I found it easy to 
run.  Don asked me if I'd like to try his light, a 14 green LED flashlight.  At first I 
declined, but when he compared the output vs. mine, I was sold.  I quickly got used to 
the green lighting and found it was easier to run at a good pace with the extra 
brightness provided by Don's light.  Down the hill we went, and eventually we reached Cal 
1, aka Dardanelles.  I grabbed a bite to eat and we resumed our journey.

The next aid station, Cal 2, aka Peachstone, was where I had twice stopped or been pulled 
in prior years, so getting through it was a major goal of mine.  I was so focused on that 
that I scarcely noticed the short but sometimes steep climbs as we approached.  We 
arrived at Cal 2 at 1:18AM - almost 45 minutes earlier than my crash-and-burn in 2002, 
when I dropped there.  I remarked to everyone that I wasn't staying for long, and after 
stocking up, we set off, just as Gordy Ainsleigh arrived (boy was I surprised to see 
him!).  We continued at a good pace, and Don and I started telling each other rather lame 
jokes.  We reached the short, nasty climb to Cal 3, aka Ford's Bar, then descended back 
down towards the river.

At this point, I noticed that I was beginning to drag a bit.  By the time we reached the 
Sandy Bottom section by the river I found myself walking more and more.  I attributed 
this to the late hour and my general fatigue and figured it would eventually subside.  We 
reached the dirt road approaching the Rucky Chucky river crossing and I was walking more 
than running.  Finally reaching the aid station and river crossing, I was yet again 
weighed and was found to be in good shape at 3 pounds over.  Don helped me tie my pack 
around my neck and shoulders.  It was time to cross the river.

I had made the crossing as a pacer before but never as a runner.  Don and I made our way 
down the steps to the water.  I found this a bit tricky but managed OK.  At the river, 
there was a towrope, with both glowsticks and volunteers in the water to make sure that 
all was OK for the runners.  I grabbed onto the rope and stepped in.  The water was quite 
cool but not extremely cold and was actually refreshing.  The volunteers in the water 
helped me negotiate my way across safely and after the roughly 200-yard crossing I made 
my way up the banks on the other side, the Far Side.  There was a large contingent of 
runners changing shoes, but I felt no need to (and could not anyway, as I had not left 
shoes there).  I grabbed some soup and we started the climb to Greengate.  The time was 
3:30AM.

It was at this point that I noticed I was much more tired than earlier, and my pace up 
the hill was correspondingly quite slow.  It took over 1/2 hour to make the climb, and I 
was pretty exhausted.  At Greengate I had more soup before we started off the trail 
towards the Auburn Lake Trails aid station a few miles away on rather runnable trails.  I 
didn't have too much energy to run, though, and we thus walked and ran our way along.  At 
that point, Don started to become somewhat concerned, as did I, about my slowing down, so 
I took some NoDoz, vitamins, and more food.  After seemingly forever, we reached Auburn 
Lake Trails.

ALT was the beginning of a very familiar stretch of trail for me, as this section 
extending to Highway 49 is part of the Way Too Cool 50K course, so I had a pretty good 
idea of my location and progress.  It is also marked each 1/2 mile by signs with mileage, 
so I could see that I was not moving as fast as I would have liked.  Leaving ALT, we 
continued down the largely runnable trail, largely walking due to my apparent lack of 
energy.  I had been hoping that the approaching sunrise would revive me, but sunrise came 
and my energy didn't.  I took more food and Succeed caps, but to no avail.  We both 
became concerned, and Don told me he would now have to become a slavedriver of sorts so 
that I wouldn't get in trouble with the time.

The next aid station, Brown's Bar, is a rather boisterous one.  Run by a group of 
hashers, one can always hear music blaring from a distance when approaching the aid 
station.  After an indeterminate time, I began to hear the music.  I also remembered from 
my pacing days that it would take a long time after that to actually reach the aid 
station.  Finally, we arrived.  There were neon signs and spacey people everywhere!  I 
got more soup, and staggered out of the aid station in a hurry.  The time was 7:30AM; the 
cutoff there is 8:10 so I knew I had to make good progress.  Don offered me M&M's and I 
gobbled a few down as we headed down towards the river again.  I found the downhill tough 
going but made it.  On the way, we passed Linda Hurd walking wrapped up in a space 
blanket (she later dropped).  At the bottom we reached the Quarry road, yet another 
runnable section where it was all I could do to run at all.  Don was urging me on, and I 
moaned that I was doing the best that I could.

At the end of this section, we reached the difficult climb to the approach to Highway 49.  
This was tough and a bit disheartening, but we made steady progress as Don would urge me 
along, then commend me for my progress.  Finally reaching the top, we approached the aid 
station and crossed the now-busy road and entered the aid station.  The time was 8:55AM, 
now only 20 minutes under the cutoff.

I was weighed for the final time and was several pounds over.  I had been drinking a lot 
as the weather warmed up.  Robin and Ali Mills, my other crew, met me with food, but in 
my haste I forgot to even thank them.  Tom Kaisersatt greeted me there as well and urged 
me along and Don pushed me to get out and up the hill to the meadow by Cool.  This was 
again tough going but we made it.  I realized (and Don insisted) that I needed to run as 
much as I could.  I managed an intermittent shuffle as we crossed the meadow, then 
started the long descent to No Hands Bridge.  This is a tricky section as much of the 
trail is basically a trench, with ample opportunities to trip and fall.  I remembered 
there being an exposed "ledge" above the road shortly before the final descent to No 
Hands, but it seemed that I would never get there.  Of course I eventually did, then made 
the seemingly-for-me "perilous" descent to No Hands.

Tradition for Western States runners is that No Hands Bridge is the indicator that you 
are almost "Home" to Auburn, but I had no time to celebrate.  I just grabbed a handful of 
food and started over the bridge to the Auburn side.  Don followed and we started on the 
final section before the climb to Robie Point and the streets of Auburn.  The effort for 
me was quite difficult and I found myself struggling and moaning with every step as I 
slogged my way along what was a now-hot road and trail along the river.  Finally, we 
reached the climb to Robie Point.  I felt like I was climbing Mt. Everest, and moaned and 
groaned up the hill.  I noticed, too, that I was beginning to list to one side but could 
not seemingly do anything about it.  I would get to the finish in time and that increased 
both the urgency and brutality of the climb.  Don continued to urge me to keep moving 
with whatever I could muster.  We did stop briefly at a creek to dip our hats, then 
continued climbing until we finally made it to Robie Point and the pavement.

Doug White and Mike Martin were waiting for us and cheered when we arrived.  I knew that 
there was a hill to climb on the street and with much effort managed to pull myself up 
the hill.  Don, Doug and Mike cheered my progress and urged me to keep moving and I 
finally reached the top.  From here it would just be a run on relatively flat terrain to 
the stadium and the finish.  We turned the corner, and I saw Lee Jebian in the distance 
pointing to the next turn over a bridge to the final turn to the stadium entrance.  I 
stopped a couple of times briefly, but continued on my way.  Doug told me that a large 
crowd was waiting to cheer me upon my arrival, and that boosted my morale somewhat, along 
with the realization that I was indeed going to make it.

I made the final turn, ran down the street, and reached the stadium entrance.  Doug was 
right - I heard the roar of the crowd as I got to the track.  The urge to stop and walk 
was overwhelming, but the urge to keep running to the finish line was even stronger, so I 
thus ran all the way until I finally reached the finish line at 29:54:46.

As soon as crossed the line, Greg Soderlund and Tropical John Medinger greeted and 
congratulated me, and Greg draped the finisher's medal around my neck.  I immediately 
collapsed into the nearest chair.  Sophia Lewis who was working on the medical staff came 
over and congratulated me as well, as, to my pleasant surprise, Scott Jurek!  My emotions 
overwhelmed me as I was both laughing and crying at the culmination of my years-long 
quest to achieve this moment.  Tom and Doug and many other friends of mine who were there 
(too numerous to mention or even remember all of them) offered congratulations and hugs.  
It was magical.

Due to my condition I went to the medical tent to lay down.  I began to stiffen up and I 
remained there for quite some time, but not caring to move at all.  I was sure that any 
moment I would suddenly awaken back in Squaw Valley for the "real" start of the race.  
Dr. Bob Lind came by to check on me and said that I was OK, though he would have chosen 
to give me an IV if one were available.  After some time, I finally managed to stand and 
walk so I could go to the bathroom!

I had a bag with a change of clothes and items for the shower but could not conceive of 
having enough energy to take one.  I also could not conceive of missing the awards 
ceremony so I hobbled over to the cafeteria just as things were starting.  What is nice 
about the ceremony is that each finisher is called individually to the front to receive 
his or her buckle.  Since I was one of the last to finish, I was one of the last to 
receive mine.  When I was called, a loud cheer went up as I lumbered over to get it.  I 
found out later that I had been designated the "Most Courageous Finisher" (I must have 
been quite a sight on the track!).

That evening Don and Gillian drove me to my hotel in Auburn.  They then went out and 
bought one of the tastiest McDonald's hamburgers I've ever eaten!  I let them shower and 
clean up, and then they left.  I just laid there staring at the buckle before finally 
getting enough energy to get up, shower, and go to bed.  Going to sleep was another 
matter; I was too wired to fall asleep until well into the morning.

The next day, I got up late in the morning, ate at Denny's across the street, then 
checked out of the hotel.  I stopped in Auburn, bought a belt for the buckle, then wore 
both for the drive home.

What a weekend!!!

In closing, I have to offer my thanks to Don and Gillian - their coaching, encouragement, 
and personal involvement with my training throughout the year was undeniably the 
difference between finishing and yet another DNF.  My whole approach to runs like these 
has now forever changed due to their efforts and advice.  I will forever be in their 
debt.  As a pacer, Don was simply The Best.  He was positive and encouraging, but also 
tough when he needed to be, and for that I thank him as well.  The training paid off as 
did the foot taping - I wore the same shoes, socks and gaiters throughout the race and 
did not have any issues with my feet whatsoever!

I want to also thank Robin and Ali, Karen, Frances, Dave, Doug, Mike, and the countless 
others who helped cheer me on and made all of this possible.  Hats off to all and Thank 
You.  See you all maybe next year ... ;-)