2007 Western States 100 mile race report June 23-24, 2007 Squaw Valley to Auburn California By Dave Bursler I have always listened to my heart and only on rare occasions has it led me down a path of hurt and pain. More so than not the gamble has been worth the risk and the outcome has been fruitful and rewarding. There are very few people who understand what burns deep within my soul and how I process my thoughts into actions. Those people are the very same people who I call my close friends and they are also the reason I chose to participate in the 2007 edition of the Western States 100 mile endurance run. In July of 2006 I made a promise to myself that I would never again run in a 100 mile race but when my friends survived the lottery and gained entry into States I had a burning desire to be there as well. Nine years of running in 100 mile events has broken my body down into a shell of what it used to be but I was certain I still had one more run left in me. My mind told me not to go but my heart said run. It wasn’t about the run or the scenery or the sense of satisfaction gained from the achievement but rather the feeling obtained when surrounded by people who honestly care about one another and sacrifice for the sake of others. I longed for one more time running in the mountains where fantasies can come true and the impossible can be achieved. My decision made it was now time to make my way to Squaw Valley, California to do battle with the beautiful Sierra Nevada Mountains. I would not be alone as in my heart I knew the spirits of those of my family who have past before me would guide me through my journey and comfort me through the challenges that lay ahead. By my side would also be two very good friends, Rick and Lisa, both of whom have gained my trust and admiration. I met Lisa in 2005 when I paced her at Western States and immediately formed a bond with her that has only become stronger since that weekend in June. Rick and I became friends that very same year when he sacrificed an entire day, running, riding and crawling with me for 24 straight hours to raise funds for a charitable cause. We have been inseparable since that day. Both have very big hearts and both have taught me many lessons that have allowed me to open up and be the person I am today. Thursday morning, two days prior to the race, Rick and I made our way to the airport to catch our flight to Reno, Nevada. I had hoped for an uneventful day and a relaxing trip but that was not to be. The airline overbooked our flight so our once guaranteed seats were no longer available. I tried to take it in stride but when the airline did not provide an immediate resolution to our problem I became stressed out. Rick saw how the situation was affecting me and immediately began reassuring me that everything would be okay. I couldn’t help but think it was a message from God that my decision to go was wrong and that I should stay home. Finally, with a little patience, the airline found a way to re-route us through another state to our final destination. The route would include a four hour layover in Dallas, Texas which ultimately would get us into Reno 5 ½ hours later than originally scheduled. The lost time frustrated me a little but I was relieved that indeed we would get where we needed to be. Early Friday morning Rick and I, along with friends, took the forty five mile trip from Reno to Squaw Valley, California. As we drove I told Rick to observe the scenery as the little dirt hills devoid of foliage would turn into to big, rugged, tree covered mountains. It was beautiful to see the waterfalls leading from the sides of the mountains and the tracks from the old mining trains that used to exist in the area. The Truckee River that runs alongside of Interstate 80 kept me mesmerized as we came closer to our exit. Once in Squaw my eyes widened and my heart skipped a beat as I looked at the spectacular mountains surrounding the little alpine village. I couldn’t wait to get out of the car and make my way to race headquarters to check in. The line leading into the building where we would pick up our packets, tee- shirts and other commemorative items was somewhat long and slow moving. Since I’m a typical Northeast guy I can be impatient and in need of instant gratification so staying still for so long was quite difficult. Finally after what seemed like forever we made it inside the building where we picked up a nice duffel bag, tee-shirt, sweatshirt and several other novelty items. We then waited in line to have our picture taken which would be used to identify us on the Western States web page for those people tracking us. Once the pictures were taken and goodie bags picked up it was time for our vitals to be recorded. Height, weight and blood pressure of each runner would be documented by race personnel and written on a yellow wrist band that would be worn by the runner during the race. These are very important statistics that would be used to determine if a runner is fit to continue or if he or she should be removed from the race. It is critical for each runner to maintain a certain percentage of his or her body weight to stave off the effects of hyponatremia and dehydration. Both could factor in not only the performance of a runner but also could cause severe pain and damage to the body if not properly managed. My height was 69 1/2 inches, my weight 135 pounds and my blood pressure was 149/87. I had concerns about both my weight and my blood pressure. I assumed that my blood pressure was high due to the altitude and the fact that I was very anxious but my weight I could not explain. Running at 135 would mean that I would have to pay special attention to nutrition during the run which is something I’m not very good at. I didn’t spend a considerable amount of time worrying about it but it did find a place in the back of my mind for the rest of the day. As soon as Rick and I finished the check in process we mingled around the group and eventually met up with Lisa. We chatted with her for awhile, made some tentative plans and then made our way to a local shopping center to eat lunch and obtain some supplies. Our time was limited because we had to be back at the resort to attend the 1:30 p.m. pre-race briefing so we did our business, packed our drop bags and quickly found our way back. Packing the drop bags sounds like a simple task but in reality it is not. The weather in the mountains can be erratic so it is critical to place the proper attire/supplies in the appropriate bag. Questions like where do I place my flashlight, extra shoes, socks, warm clothes and batteries had to be answered. Do I need a hat, gloves, or rain jacket and if so where do I place these items? They seem like such easy questions but they’re really not and no matter how much thought I give there always seems to be doubt in the final answer. I had made up my drop bags ahead of time by writing my name, the aid station name and the mile mark on a piece of duct tape which I attached to the nylon bags. My only task was to fill the bags in a timely manner and deliver them to the drop off area. I labored in my decision making process but eventually I settled on what I would place in each bag. My belief is that I can never have too many supplies. I’m a risk taker but I won’t risk my race because I gambled that I wouldn’t need a warm shirt at mile 50 or gloves when it got dark. It may be overkill to stuff each bag with everything under the sun but it gives me a sense of relief to know that it’s there if I need it. I prepared my bags very quickly with the only real decision being which shoes would I start with and which would I leave in the drop bag at the far side river crossing. As soon as my decision was made I piled my bags up on the side and proceeded to help Rick with his. When we were done we delivered the bags and made our way to the pre-race briefing. Western States is one of the premier one-hundred mile races in the U.S so there is a lot of pomp and circumstance associated with the event. The briefing included a combination of speakers conveying important information about the trail, introductions of the elite runners and acknowledgements to those who have supported the event. Once the meeting was over Rick and I had numerous decisions to make. There were many people who we both knew and wanted to spend time with, however we couldn’t spend time with every one of them. Also we had been invited to stay at the resort by more than one friend. Both were generous offers and obviously something we couldn’t refuse but still left us with a decision to make. These were all good decisions to have to make but I made them harder than they had to be. I tend to stretch myself thin and put myself in positions where promises are hard to fulfill and I knew I couldn’t do that this time. Eventually I found a way to communicate to everyone what we would like to do and where we would like to stay. In a way it made me sad because I wished I could have spent time with everybody but I knew I needed to get settled and be with those who knew me best. I made the decision to spend the rest of the day with only two of my friends so we could relax and remove ourselves from the tension of the impending race. After the decision was made we went to Tahoe for burgers and fries and then found our way back to the resort in Squaw where we relaxed and had good conversation into the wee hours of the night. I awoke the next morning at 3:55 a.m. without the assistance of an alarm. Sleep was restless yet very comfortable and relaxing. The stress level in the room was low because we had no reason to rush since the start line was right outside of our door. Once up I jumped in the shower and then put on the clothes I had prepared the night before. As I dressed I couldn’t help but wonder if the weather would be a factor early on. The forecast called for moderate temperatures throughout the day so it was quite possible that the current temperature could be very cool. In anticipation of this I had a long sleeve shirt that I had planned to wrap around my waist just in case. While Rick got dressed I organized all of the items I planned to place in my waist pack and then put them in there in an orderly fashion. I didn’t want my pack to be too heavy but I did want to make sure I carried the necessary items such as sodium/potassium replacement tablets, aspirin, blister protection, small flashlight, and spare batteries. As soon as I finished loading the pack I located my water bottles, filled them up and put them near my pack so I wouldn’t forget them when we were ready to leave. I grabbed a pop tart for breakfast and then walked to the start area to pick up my race number and timing chip. There were many anxious people roaming about the Olympic Plaza but I found a way to zone them out. After attaching our race numbers and timing chips Lisa, Rick and I posed for a few pictures inside the building before making our way to the start line. Rick and I staged ourselves in a comfortable place amongst the masses of people and waited for the official start. Just as we settled in our friend John Straub arrived and greeted us with a mighty high five. He’s a fiery guy under normal conditions but today the intensity radiating from his body could be felt by anyone standing in his presence. We chatted a little but then I settled back in the pack once again waiting for the start. I found it hard to remain calm but knew it was important to harness my emotions for the energy would be needed for the race itself. It seemed every time I found a quiet place within my soul a person would tap me on the shoulder and snap me out of my trance. Though it took me out of my comfort zone it honestly made me smile to know someone wanted to introduce him or herself to me. Finally the countdown to the start began and when the clock reached zero the runners began their journey. Running 100 miles is in itself a difficult task but the challenges offered by this particular course would test even the strongest runners. The steep uphills, sharp descents, and difficult terrain would tax the body, mind, and soul. Managing the pain while also trying to manage proper nutrition and electrolyte levels would be the key to a successful run. It takes good genetics, talent and intelligence but also a certain amount of luck to be successful. There are no teasers at Western States as right from the start runners are led four miles straight up a mountain. The mountain rises more than 2500 feet from the start as the trail crests Emigrant Pass at 8750 feet. The trail was as wide as a road and the footing was excellent but the pitch was steep. Despite the fact that I knew the conditions in advance I never decided on a method to reach the top until the very last minute. In the weeks leading up to the race I had dreamed of running the entire route but come race day I knew it would be wise to use a walk/run method instead. It would be important very early on to conserve energy because the altitude would sap every bit until we were led back into acceptable altitude levels around mile 30. I had many concerns going into the race, the least of which was poor conditioning. I had one advantage though and that was confidence. I have confidence in my ability to overcome any challenge. I am able to do this because I am willing to reevaluate my goals and easily change. Ever changing goals, willingness to cope with adversity in the form of physical and mental pain are the keys to my success. I never allow an opportunity for disappointment to enter my mind. No matter if I’m running, walking or crawling I’m always on target to meet a new goal. The first barrier that stood in my way was the altitude. I knew going in that there was a good chance that the thin mountain air would sap every ounce of energy from my body. It’s documented that most don’t feel the effects of altitude until it rises above 9000 feet but because the high point in Delaware is 900 feet I believed I would feel it sooner. I had no difficulty climbing the first 3.5 miles to the Escarpment where the first aid station was located. Since we were only fifty minutes into the race I didn’t need to stop to refill my bottles so I continued on. The terrain from here would change significantly as the trail led us off of the wide road onto a rugged, steep, rocky, single track trail. It was steep enough where some had to reach down to grab the large rocks below in order to maintain their balance. Personally I didn’t have any trouble navigating my way up the steep hill. Since I’m not a strong down hill runner this was a pattern I would have to maintain the entire race. After the half mile climb up to the very top of the mountain we were then led on a 6.5 mile journey around the ridge where we were give spectacular views of the vistas below. My concerns of altitude settled in at this point and I focused hard on maintaining proper breathing and conserving energy while at the same time giving a satisfactory effort. I gauged my progress on how I felt by asking myself the following, am I dizzy, and am I weak, can I maintain my speed? These were all critical questions that I could not answer with words and they were questions that would have to be asked over and over until I left the high country later in the race. Though at the very top of the mountain and on a ridge the course still rolled up and down with terrain that varied from soft dirt surfaces to rocky, rutty wet ground. There were times when we were led up hills where the snow run off turned the trail into a make shift water fall but for the most part the trail could be easily navigated. This was a critical part of the course for me because I had to maintain control and not allow those around me to dictate my pace. My immediate goal was to reach Robinson’s Flat with my mental faculties still in tact and enough energy to descend to the canyons where my energy would return. The next stop was Lyon Ridge at mile 10.5 where it would be a quick refill of water and check that my mind is clear before moving on. It was here that I started focusing on small gains which allowed me to feel good about my progress and stay relaxed and confident. My next goal was to run 5.5 miles to Red Star Ridge in one piece and still confident in my ability to overcome the effects of the altitude. This section is a bit of a blur to me because I was concentrating heavily on moderating my pace at such a rate that I was holding my own yet not overdoing it. My recollection is that the terrain was similar to what I had just experienced over the last 6.5 miles. It was nothing tremendously hard but certainly not simple as the trail led downward most of the way on somewhat rocky terrain. There are very few smooth downhill sections on the Western States course so it’s quite harder than what the course profile may indicate. I felt okay entering the Red Star Ridge aid station but as I exited I could feel my energy depleting quickly. My fear was that it could be a gloomy re-run of my 2003 experience when I rolled into Robinson’s Flat incoherent, significantly overweight, and weak. I was concerned when I left Red Star Ridge yet still confident in my ability to make it safely to Robinson’s Flat. That being said I still had many miles to go on a trail on which I had never before traveled. Fires in Duncan Canyon forced the organizers to modify the course over a several year period but last year it returned as part of the event. It would be a downward drop into the canyon surrounded by burnt up trees and blackened ground. It was depressing but yet there was a certain beauty of nature’s attempt to revitalize a burnt up forest. Though I tried to focus on the positive my mind strayed to unwanted thoughts which led to uncertainty and lack of desire. Physically I was fine but my mind had taken total control and when focused in the wrong direction a manageable task can be turned into a tedious chore. I struggled down the hill, into the canyon, and into the aid station at mile 25. It was here that I knew I needed to regroup and refocus my energies for what lay before me was a tremendous climb up into Robinson’s Flat. It would be a six mile hike, most of which would be straight up hill on soft easy terrain yet angled at such a pitch that a significant effort would be needed to get my way up. I left the aid station with my faculties about me but still not in the right frame of mind. Instead of celebrating the minor achievements and taking it one step at a time I focused on what was left and how tough it would be. That type of thought process only managed to suck the life out of me and make things much harder than they really were. Still I plowed forward with my head up and a smile on my face. Along the way I spent some time with Tony Covarrubias a friend that I met at the Cascade Crest 100 a couple of years ago. It’s good to talk to people who share the same strengths and weaknesses for I learn that I’m not alone in my struggles. Tony exclaimed that he too had struggled with the severe downhill sections on rocky terrain. He looked bad but I knew that ultimately he would find his way to the top, regroup and gain the strength that he would need later to finish. Since this was his first time on the course I assured him that things would only get easier as the race progressed. He’s a strong mountain runner so I knew that on the backside of the course he would come alive and finish strong. After conveying my thoughts I pushed on by and worked my way up the hill towards the first milestone checkpoint, Robinson’s Flat. When I reached the top and entered the station I disguised any pain that I may have been in with a big smile. The cheers of the crowd produced adrenaline inside of my body that pushed me to run harder toward the aid station. Once there the volunteers instructed me to stand on the scale and have my weight checked. Standing on the scale would be my first indication of how well I held up over the first 30 miles of the course. If dizziness set in as I made my attempt to step up on the scale than the altitude would have again defeated me. I hesitantly removed my pack and gently moved toward the scale lifting one foot at a time slowly up on the scale. I was weak but not dizzy which gave me a feeling of relief but still I knew I had a few miles to survive before descending. As I left I saw my friend Debbee Straub in the crowd feeding me encouragement. It was good to see someone whom I knew took a personal interest in what I was doing and could relate to my struggles. Again the adrenaline rushed through my body as I ran through the chute leading out of the aid station surrounded by a massive crowd of cheering people. I soaked in the atmosphere created by the masses of people for once I was gone I knew I would not be around that many people again until arriving at Michigan Bluff 55 miles into the race. It was now time for me to take it to the next level. The body had survived 30 miles of brutal running and now it was time for the mind to take control. Every runner left on the course now faced the same challenges and had to overcome the same adversity. Pain was not a factor but rather a given and from here on out it was a matter of managing the thoughts and forgetting the pain while moving forward. My travels on the course led me 5 miles from Robinson’s Flat to Miller’s Defeat. There was a short climb out of Robinson’s before I was led along the ridge line on a soft, wide trail. The easy running conditions were a welcome sight. I breathed easier and relaxed with each stride. Hope seemed to be returning as I knew that soon the trail would descend deep into the canyons below. It would be at this point where I was certain I would regain strength as I left the high country. I relaxed and my thought process returned to normal and I recognized that I needed to start finding a way to increase my caloric intake. While I believe the altitude was the main factor for my decreased energy level it certainly wasn’t the only factor. The altitude would take care of itself in time but if I had any chance at regaining full strength I had to start taking in calories. In my pack I had a tube of energy tablets called “Superfly”. The concentrated tablet was advertised as packing the power of five energy drinks in one tablet. I’m not normally one for experimenting with a new product during a race but my energy level was depleted so I was willing to gamble. I put the tablet directly into my mouth and grimaced as the potent tablet overwhelmed my taste buds. It seemed to almost have an immediate effect as I ran stronger on the flats which ultimately led me downhill toward the aid station. When I arrived my spirits were high and I felt revitalized. I was in and out quick with the knowledge that the most difficult part of the course, the canyons, still laid ahead. The next nine miles leading from Miller’s Defeat to Last Chance would be the easiest part of the course up to this point. Almost the entire route led us down a wide trail with a gradual descent on manageable terrain. This is where the stars align with the moon for runners from the east because not only is the trail easy but this is also where the volume of oxygen in the air increases. Recovery is critical at this point for the climbs up Devils Thumb and Michigan Bluff lurk in the distance. I became stronger yet I maintained the same pace. I kept in mind that it is a 100 mile run so I was always in conservation mode to make sure that I had enough energy to take that very last step across the finish line. I cruised into Dusty Corners once again with a big smile but this time the smile was not used as a way to disguise adversity but instead it was a gauge of how I felt inside. As I exited the area the volunteers graciously filled my bottles and asked if I wanted to be sprayed with water. I had done a good job of maintaining my body temperature up to this point and because it was unseasonably cool I did not need nor did I want to be sprayed. It was all about maintaining from here until the finish line. I had to maintain my weight, body temperature, positive thoughts, and ability to manage pain. Proper maintenance of all of these factors would ultimately dictate my forward progress. The next five miles leading into Last Chance were more of the same. The wide trails were moderate to easy on a gradual downhill grade with very few obstructions to have to navigate around. Again I maintained my pace and steadily moved forward. I did my best not to worry about who I passed or who passed me. I’m a very competitive guy so it is often difficult to accept that my effort is not strong enough to stay in front of those behind me or catch up to those in front. In the high country there were many people who easily ran right by me some of whom were friends and acquaintances. I have this feeling of failure when someone goes by that I believe I am equal to but at the same time I recognize that we all have different strengths. Chris Mortensen, Dave Yeakel and Herman Richards all passed me early on and despite the fact that I was certain I should have been able to keep up I accepted the fact that at that point in those conditions each one was stronger than I. Truthfully I felt very proud of a few of these individuals for in the past they’ve come to me for advice. Whether they’ve used my advice or not to see them overcome doubt and fear and succeed through adversity gave me a good feeling. While I was making my way toward Last Chance another friend of mine came running by looking very strong. Phil Rosenstein has proved in the past that he is a very tough runner but as we approached Last Chance he also displayed that he has some speed. He looked very strong and easily ran by me with what looked like an effortless motion. I couldn’t help but smile as he went by because I could see that he graduated to the next level and was ready to conquer any thing this particular course had to offer. He was confident, strong and he was going to finish his second one hundred miler of six on the road to “The Last Great Race”. Now that Phil had passed me I concentrated on my own progress toward mile 43. Though my immediate attention was on the road directly ahead my thoughts strayed to Devils Thumb and the wicked climb to the top. I wasn’t afraid but rather excited because the long climb would play into my strength and allow me to gain time. The thoughts of Devils Thumb generated enough energy to get me into the Last Chance aid station feeling strong and healthy. I realized almost immediately upon leaving the aid station that I had jumped the gun and miscalculated the difficulty of the coming miles. I concentrated my thoughts on the climb but never considered the steep descent that preceded the climb. Navigating the long, steep, winding, rocky switchbacks would take a massive effort on my part. Every step would take a vicious toll on my body and the amount of focus needed to maintain a running pace would deplete my energy level to an all time low. Walking any section of this part of the course could not be justified and in reality if I did walk my fate may have been sealed. I couldn’t run fast but any pace faster than a walk would gain me enough time to stay well ahead of any cut-offs and still leave me an opportunity to post a respectable time. That being said I grimaced, grunted and groaned as I made my way down to the deep canyon below. I could see the tops of the trees and hear the water rushing below but I never seemed to be getting closer to the bottom. I felt like an airplane just circling around upon descent in to an airport for landing. The mountain would keep me up there as long as possible and then bam when it’s ready it just sent me straight down to the runway below. That’s exactly how it went to. Just as I started feeling helpless wondering when I would reach the bottom the trail led straight down to the water below where I was guided across a bridge onto the other side to begin the climb up to Devils Thumb. When I got over the bridge I saw two people, a lady sitting in a stream and a guy filling his bottle from a nearby water fall. I wasn’t thirsty and my bottles were full but for some reason I had the urge to fill my bottles with the stream water as well. I was certain the water would make me feel like I was part of nature, living off of what it had to provide. Those thoughts made me feel good and gave me a desire to drink from the stream. Once I took a peek at the green water falling from the rocks above I came back to my senses and refrained. I then started the grueling climb up to the top of Devils Thumb. The climb was over 1.4 miles using 36 switchbacks rising over 1550 feet. The switchbacks were steep but I found them easy to traverse because they were short. I passed several people as I made my way up. I had no clue what the distance to the top was prior to the race so I wasn’t sure how long it would take me. In passing another participant made mention that it would take close to an hour for us to reach the top. I did some calculations and even though I didn’t know the distance I quickly concluded that there was no way I would take that long. I found a zone that I settled in comfortably and pushed hard up each switchback while at the same time passing everyone who had passed me on the way down into the canyon. I had no doubt that I needed to gain as much of an advantage on the uphills as I possible for all those I had passed now would just get by me as we descended into the next canyon. I pushed harder as the sight of two young girls came into my view. I was certain that their presence was a good indication that the aid station was near. I continued on by them and sure enough the aid station was right there. Upon reaching the aid station I looked at my watch and found that I had made the climb in thirty five minutes. At the time I was happy but now that I know it was only 1.4 miles I have to wonder if I should have given more effort. I took a few minutes to get some hot soup and have my bottles refilled before leaving. I grabbed a sandwich and a popsicle for the road and headed toward my next destination, Michigan Bluff. The same guy who told me earlier that it would take one hour to make the climb up to Devils Thumb also told me it would take about one hour to descend into the next canyon. While I doubted his estimate for the climb I believed his estimate for the descent. The trail immediately leaving Devils Thumb was soft, flat, and runnable. I ran the flats comfortably but dreaded the descent that was to come. I was told that this particular descent would be much easier than the one prior. The terrain would be much softer and the grade more gradual. Before heading down I looked to the sky, gave the sign of the cross and asked God to make that true. This was not my first correspondence with God during this day as He and I had talked several times prior. I rely on the people in my life to give me strength but I also rely on God. Though I try not to ask for help but rather strength there are certainly desperate times when I ask Him to make a hill less steep or a road less rocky. Miracles never happen but He does give me peace. Whether it was God or just fate the trail leading down into the canyon was indeed more manageable than the one prior. The footing was excellent and the grade was not as steep allowing me to run comfortably down. I used time rather than distance as a gauge that would indicate when I would be at the bottom. I was told it would take an hour so patience would be the key to running the entire way. It was going to take time no matter what challenges laid ahead so instead of becoming frustrated looking at the river below I just progressed forward and waited for the hands on my watch to tick away. Sure enough in just about one hour the trail led me to another bridge which guided me across a creek into the El Dorado Creek aid station. Again I took a couple of minutes to regroup, assess my condition and have my bottles filled prior to making the hike up to Michigan Bluff. As I stood there an aid station volunteer came to me with a concerned look on her face. She almost forcefully made me take a boiled potato which she dipped in salt because she thought I had been losing a significant amount of salt through my legs. I couldn’t help but chuckle when I told her that my legs were not covered in salt but instead ivy block. She laughed too but I could also tell that she was very relieved. It gave me a good feeling to know that the volunteers are honestly concerned about the runners and do their best to care for them. I thanked everyone and headed out of the aid station very determined to make the climb up into Michigan Bluff and come out into the crowd of people looking very strong. As I left one of the volunteers yelled out to me saying that this is a longer climb than Devils Thumb but not nearly as steep. The climb was over 2.8 miles using only 7 switchbacks rising over 1830 feet. This climb would not take as much power as Devils Thumb but instead more persistence and speed as well as patience. The aid station volunteer was correct in that the climb was not steep in fact there were a couple of sections where I ran for a significant amount of time. Michigan Bluff was another milestone checkpoint for me and I felt it was important that I make it there comfortably without any major issues to tend to. In 2003 I arrived at Michigan Bluff with severe blisters on both feet. I lost over 30 minutes at this aid station while medical personnel tended to my issues. I certainly did not want a replay in 2007 in fact I had hoped to arrive strong and waste little time before heading out. Another motivating factor for me was that I knew Lisa would be there waiting. Part of what made me work so hard from Last Chance up to this point was the fact that I did not want to disappoint her. She seemed so excited about having an opportunity to pace me in for a sub-24 hour finish and I had felt that I was on the verge of letting her down. Truthfully I already knew that my chances for such a finish went up in smoke long ago but by the numbers I still had a chance, a chance that I wanted to keep intact for as long as possible. I trudged my way up passing numerous people once again but trying to do so as humbly as possible for I knew that once the course descended I would see each again. Since I’ve been out here crewing and pacing the last three years I’m familiar with the end of the trail that leads into the small community. I became relaxed and at ease when I saw familiar sights that indicated the end was near. When I felt comfortable that I was close I picked up my feet and ran the last quarter mile down the trail and into the street where I was greeted by a large crowd of people. I ran directly to the volunteers who requested that I weigh in prior to getting aid and gaining access to my drop bags. As soon as I left the scale I saw Lisa on my left and she guided me down the path toward a chair where I sat for a few minutes. I was overwhelmed by the attention of the crowd and the adrenaline was flowing freely through my body. Lisa proceeded to take care of me like I was her own brother or even child. She helped me change my socks while at the same time made sure I ate and drank. I felt really strong but more importantly I felt really happy. I’ve seen pictures of myself at this particular aid station and the smile on my face tells it all. I had struggled through a brutal run but I was having an awesome time. I can’t help but wonder if maybe I’ve come full circle and recognized the importance of having fun versus the importance of competition. Truthfully both were there on this day but fun was more important. Before leaving I asked my friend Debbee how John and Rick were doing. She assured me that both were doing well. Her news only made me feel better as I knew the importance of the race to both. I left Michigan Bluff feeling great and in retrospect I now believe I left way too fast. I ran steadily allowing the comments of the crowd to fuel my movements. The final leg of my journey alone would be a 4.9 mile jaunt down a wide dirt trail toward Bath Road. It was exciting to know that once at Bath Road I would have Lisa by my side the rest of the way and also a significant amount of knowledge of the course. That being said I did still have five challenging miles left to go and maybe a tank that was emptying quickly. The course was pretty simple as we were led downhill for a couple of miles before the trail ascended. The section was not tough but the distance was a bit longer than I had anticipated. I’m not sure why but for some reason I thought the distance between Michigan Bluff and Bath Road was only three miles. Once I figured out that there was an extra two miles I became somewhat dejected and the wasted emotion stole energy from my body. I recovered quickly as I approached the last climb up to Bath Road. It was kind of steep and a little longer than I would have liked but it was the last climb I would do alone. I forged forward and before I knew it I was at the Bath Road aid station quickly joined by Tony Covarubbias who had recovered from his earlier struggles in Duncan Canyon. I looked around for Lisa but she wasn’t there yet. She had warned me that there was a chance she may not be there if parking at Foresthill School was difficult to find. I was okay because I was back in civilization and had a friend in Tony to walk up the next hill with to Foresthill Road. The climb from the bottom of Bath Road up to Foresthill Road is on an asphalt road over about one mile long. Tony and I walked at a casual pace while talking about the difficulty of the course up to this point. We got about ¾ of the way up when in the distance I could see Lisa running towards us. She was energetic and vibrant and arrived with a big smile on her face. She chatted with Tony but it wasn’t long before she had me running the rest of the way up the hill. No words and no indication that she wanted me to run but instead she just took off and expected me to follow. I’m not exactly sure what it is but there is some kind of bond between the two of us where little communication is needed to understand what the other is thinking. Anyhow we crossed the unofficial 100K finish line at the corner of Bath and Foresthill Roads as we were cheered by the partying spectators. It was fun but we still had much business to tend to. We took a left on to Foresthill Road and continued to run toward the school where the next aid station was located. It seems Lisa not only motivated but Tony as well. He ran alongside of me until we were about ¼ mile from the aid station at which point he took off. Almost immediately as he went ahead a vehicle pulling out of a driveway almost ran him over. It was a close call but Tony danced his way around and survived without injury. The same vehicle, a few minutes later, almost hit him again as he attempted to turn into the next driveway. Tony again survived without incident and the three of us cruised on into the aid station at Foresthill School. The atmosphere was lively as our names were broadcast to the crowd over a P.A. system. We were treated like real athletes competing in an important event. It was fabulous and it gave me a good feeling inside. Lisa made sure that I was okay and prepared for the night time hours. She made sure I ate, drank, retrieved my light from my drop bag and had warm clothes before leaving. We headed out of the aid station and made the left leaving the school back on to Foresthill Road where we would see civilization for the last time until we reached mile 99. I enjoyed the attention and fed off of the encouragement. We still had some daylight to work with and I felt energetic and strong so thoughts of a sub-24 still danced in my mind. I’ve never done well with a pacer and wondered what effect Lisa would have on me. When I’m alone I’m forced to fight my own demons and search for my own motivation but when I have a pacer I tend to lean on him or her. I die and I die quickly and there have been times that I never recover. As we made the turn onto California Street and headed back to the trail I wondered if Lisa would enable me or motivate me. The trail that led us to the next aid station three miles away was mostly downhill, smooth and easy, in fact the trail was too easy. Though I was running hard and strong a combination of events was about to occur that led to a mighty struggle that would last for almost seven miles. Lisa pushed me hard down the hills as we were being chased by both Chris Mortensen and Tony Covarrubias. I allowed the competitive side of me to take over way too early and also I allowed myself to fall out of my game plan. Instead of running within myself I allowed others to dictate my race. I ran hard, steady and strong but could feel the energy loss with every step. My mind could not keep up with what my body was trying to do and I could not replenish the energy as quickly as I was using it. It wasn’t long before I was overwhelmed by dizziness and throwing up all over myself. Finally I allowed Tony and Chris and what seemed like a million other people go by. I had to do this because I could not keep up and I was feeling ill. I recognized my mistake but it was way too late. I now would have to suffer the consequences and persevere through some adversity and hope that I would snap out of it soon. Luckily at the same time I started suffering the symptoms of nausea we reached the aid station where I had hoped to find a way to recover quickly. I drank some water and soda but neither set too well in my stomach. I really couldn’t eat anything but still I reached for some watermelon and hoped that it would do the trick. We left the aid station in much different condition than when we left Foresthill School a few miles back. Darkness was taking its toll on my mind as much as the nausea was taking its toll on my body. My thought process was skewed as once again I was thinking long term instead of taking it one step at a time. Course knowledge can be beneficial but also detrimental if thoughts are of the negative instead of the positive. I thought of the climbs leading out of the river at mile 78, up to highway 49 at mile 90 and Robie Point at mile 98. How could I possibly make those climbs feeling the way I do now? I knew they were ridiculous questions and that they were doing damage but for some reason I could not rid my mind of them. I became demoralized with my thoughts which in turn contributed to the stomach pain that I was experiencing. The more I allowed negativity to settle in the more I focused on how bad I was feeling. I knew what I needed to do but I couldn’t find a way to do it. I couldn’t step up to the next level and overcome the challenge but instead I let the challenge take over. It went on for seven long miles as Lisa and I dragged our bodies through the dark woods on trails that could have easily been run. We were on single track trail with little room on the left for a mistake to be made but the moonlight lit the sky in such a way that making a mistake would be impossible. Truthfully I missed a good opportunity to do some running as the terrain was fairly soft with a few rocks and roots mixed in at times. Just before we hobbled into the aid station at mile 70 Lisa offered me a piece of ginger hard candy. She was certain my problems centered on lack of calories but I knew my problems centered on lack of heart. I didn’t have the courage to tell her so instead I walked along in zombie fashion until we reached the aid station. Once there I plopped my butt in a chair and refused to move for several minutes. Lisa made attempts to get me to eat and I listened but not without an inner struggle. Deep inside I trust her so despite my inner struggle I listened because I knew she cared. It was hard to down the soup I was given but I lied and told them it was great. I thought I would make them feel good when I told them someone did a great job making the soup but it wasn’t to be as the response I received was that it was Campbell’s. I laughed it off and proceeded to hang my head in self pity. I was tired, nauseated and unfocused and I struggled to regroup. Finally Lisa coerced me into getting up and moving forward. I listened to every word that she said and because she made so much sense I had no recourse but to get my butt off that chair and move. It was 2.3 miles until the next aid station and I made a promise to myself that somewhere along the way I would dig deep and find the energy to run once again. I promised Lisa on more than one occasion that indeed we would run again but I needed time. During the down time she did a good job of gaining my interest and taking my mind off of the negative thoughts I was experiencing. During our conversations my stomach erupted a couple of more times before finally a thought occurred as to how to overcome these issues. I resolved to live in the land of make believe and pretend that I was someone else. I had to pretend to be someone who was tougher, stronger and has the proven ability to run through stomach issues. My choices were not limited as I have run side by side with many people who have these same qualities. The person I chose, however, was a guy that I had the opportunity of sharing the Massanutten Mountain 100 mile trail with on two separate occasions. I watched him suffer, die and recover many times and now I planned to be him. Jeff Heasly and I share a lot of the same qualities and I believe that we have taught each other many lessons on our travels together. He was not there with me on the Western States trail but I allowed his spirit to take over my body. I pretended to be Jeff Heasly who I knew would find a way to conquer the demons that possessed my body. Immediately I felt strength, immediately I felt relief and immediately I was running again. If I didn’t do this it would have been a long long night. I had an amazing recovery and Lisa knew all along it would happen. She was patient calm and soothing and now I had hoped to reward her patience with a strong finish. We ran most of the next section from the Fords Bar aid station into the Rucky Chucky aid station. The course was not very difficult however there were a couple of hills where walking was certainly justified. By rule I ran the flats and the downs and occasionally Lisa even had me running some slight uphills. She was very good at making positive comments to help motivate me. I’m certain she knew exactly what she was doing and what effect it was having on me. Her comment as we ran the ups about my ability to run on hills with a 1% grade only made me more motivated to do so as the race progressed. She knew what she was doing, she was smart and it worked. As we ran further out the river could be heard in the distance. Lisa told me that once the river can be heard we’re only 20 minutes away. We had been running for quite sometime when she made mention of that so it was a little dejecting to know that we were still that far off but I’d rather have honesty and accuracy than for some one to tell me you’re almost there. As we neared I mentioned to Lisa my concerns of a steep descent prior to reaching the aid station. I hate downhills especially this late in a run and even the mere thought of them gives me pain. Lisa wasn’t certain but she was pretty sure I was mistaken so I listened and tried my best not to look too far ahead. She was right as we climbed one longer hill and then in the distance the lights from the aid station could be seen. We coasted in off of the wide, rocky trail we had been traveling for quite some time. As we entered I once again stepped on the scale to have my weight checked and recorded. Once this was done Lisa and I made our way toward the area where we would cross the Rucky Chucky River. A new pathway leading to the river was formed this year eliminating the hazardous, rocky, path of years past. We were led down a crushed rock covered path towards the river where the volunteers would assist us. I was instructed to take of my waist pack and secure it around my neck like a necklace. I was then directed into the water and assisted as I grabbed the rope that would lead me into the water and across. The water reached my waist and it was cold and stinging. The blisters on the bottoms of my feet ached as I stepped from stone to stone. It was not a comfortable walk but at the same time I enjoyed the opportunity to experience every challenge that Western States had to offer. I drug myself out of the water and walked up the hill toward the far side aid station where I could access my drop bags for dry shoes and clothes. I took my time and made sure I cared for my blisters by wiping them dry and covering them with bandages. I then changed into dry socks and shoes and was good to go. We didn’t lose a lot of time but whatever we lost it was well worth it. It was now time to make the 1.7 mile trek up to the Greengate aid station. The climb on the wide trail is steep but the footing is excellent. In fact anyone who has the energy at this point could actually run all or parts of it. Running at this juncture of the race was not part of my plan. We still had 22 miles to go with several challenges lying before us. Lisa and I walked at a casual pace as we chatted on the way up. This was a critical time period for both of us because we just walked through a cold river on a damp night. How would our bodies respond and were we properly prepared? This would be determined on the walk up to Greengate. When we got to the top I started feeling weak again and became concerned that I may experience a relapse. I tried to stay positive and keep myself motivated but also I knew I had a secret weapon if indeed I did fall again. I looked around the aid station hoping to see Debbee Straub so I could get an update on Rick and John’s race but she wasn’t there. I remembered later that her plan was to pace John from Foresthill so I felt better knowing that she was probably on the course and all was okay. Prior to the event I concluded that the outcome of my race would be determined by how well I ran miles 80-90. I had told Lisa even through my earlier struggles that I would run as much of this section as possible. Most of this section is on soft, rock free terrain with only minor ups and downs to contend with. Running is the only acceptable expectation on this section of the course. That being said we started out walking gingerly through the rocky start leading out of Greengate onto the trail that would lead us to the Auburn Lake Trail aid station. Even though I knew that Lisa was aware of the course conditions I continually assured her that the trails would soften up and that we would eventually put it into gear. Sure enough it wasn’t long before I was shuffling my feet and moving slow in order to give my muscles a jumpstart which would allow them to once again move freely. The scenery would remain basically the same throughout this 10 mile section. Most times the trail led us on single track with woods on either side of us. Occasionally we would be led through a small meadow where poison oak lined either side of the trail. I felt so very bad when Lisa mentioned to me that she has an extreme reaction to poison oak. I feel blessed to have such a good friend that would be willing to sacrifice her own comfort just to help me. She took it in stride and continued to run on through it. Once in a while the trail would be very narrow with a sharp drop off on the right and a steep incline on the left. It wasn’t hazardous but there certainly wasn’t a lot of room for runners to get around if need be. We were in a position where there weren’t a lot of people around us however there were times when we caught up and passed people and a few got by us as well. I was easily aggravated when groups of people caught up to us but didn’t want to go around. I like to fly solo especially late because it takes too much energy to drag a crowd along and I don’t want to feel as though I’m holding someone up. Patience is required when anticipating the two aid stations on this ten mile portion of the course. Lisa had a way of knowing when each would arrive based on the sounds she hears in the distance. I was estimating the distance using the mileage markers posted along the trail but Lisa’s method turned out to be much more accurate. She heard the sounds, gave me her estimate and sure enough we were there just as she predicted. This put me in a relaxed mood and kept me from losing energy in the form of worry. I just took it easy and trusted her and she was always on target. I took my time in the aid station and made sure I drank a little, picked at some food and regrouped mentally before moving on out. When we left the aid station I was weakened and tired and attributed it to the fact that I ran some hills that I didn’t need to on the last section. I felt depleted and had to walk a little at the start in order to recover and refocus my energies in the proper direction. I started slowly using a method that I learned from Hans Dieter Weisshaar to reinvigorate my body and loosen my muscles while strengthening my mind. As I did earlier I started shuffling my feet and moving slow in order to give my muscles a jumpstart which would allow them to once again move freely. It worked and once again I was running consistently. This time, however, I vowed not to push too hard because there was still 15 miles left to run and many challenges yet to overcome. Though feeling okay I was kind of quiet as I ran this section of the course. I listened to all of the noises emanating from my body. I breathed heavily in and out and I snorted and spit constantly. I must have sounded like a pig to Lisa and to everyone else around. I had asked her to excuse me for making such noises earlier in the run but still I felt embarrassed that I could not control my own body. I did make an attempt to control my breathing by inhaling and exhaling at the same rate. Lisa had mentioned to me earlier that my breathing was somewhat erratic and that I should try to inhale as much as I exhale. I took a few moments to give this a try and found it to be quite relaxing but once I extended my effort I fell right back into the same trend as before. It was too late in the run to concentrate on anything but moving forward so I let the thought go. We were about half-way to the Brown’s Bar aid station when we were joined up by another runner who was running by his lonesome. He was happy running behind and normally that would have drained me thinking that I was holding him up. This particular guy, however, genuinely seemed happy with our progress and pace. Lisa chatted with him a little bit and as it turns out he is a multiple finisher over more than one decade. In fact he ran the race in the early 80’s when the event was still in its infancy stages. I didn’t talk a lot but the conversation was cool and kept my interest. Before I knew it we could hear noises from the aid station in the distance which made me run a little harder in that direction. A few moments later we turned right down a hill and then up into the Browns Bar aid station. Since I had suffered after stopping at the last aid station I planned to waste little or no time here. I didn’t want to give my body a chance to calm down and start feeling pain so I went in with the knowledge of what I wanted, made my request and headed out immediately. Before heading out though I did ask for a taste of beer. I hadn’t been able to stomach water or soda for sometime and for some reason beer just sounded good at this time. The aid station volunteer gave me an open can of O’Doul’s which I slammed in about 5 seconds flat and then I headed back out toward the trail. It tasted good but I knew whatever effect it would have on me would come as I later traveled down the trail. We were now headed toward the Highway 49 road crossing. This particular segment of the course had given me reason for concern for sometime. It’s not that it’s hard but rather it’s because it can be a bit monotonous. The trail again is quite wide and not very challenging but at 90 miles even the smallest rock or root could be the cause of much aggravation. The monotony settles in as the trail wraps all around Highway 49 yet it is not until the last minute that the runners are allowed to exit. The first mile or so leading out of Browns Bar is generally flat to rolling leading runners through the woods and an occasional meadow. Lisa, of course, found a way to motivate me to run as much of this portion of the course as possible. When I reneged her question to me was do you not want to run because you can’t or is it because you won’t? I didn’t answer but instead I ran. She was right, I could run but I just didn’t want to. Just about one mile into our trek to the highway 49 aid station we saw two gentlemen in the distance one of which was hunched to the side. When we walked by Lisa noticed that the man that was hunched was carrying a rock on the opposite side in order to keep his upper body straight up and down. He wasn’t in any pain but he had no control over the one side of his body so he couldn’t run or maintain a quick pace. I didn’t want to stop for fear that I may lose my edge but I wasn’t moving real quick at the time so Lisa stopped to chat with him We were both impressed by his physical and mental toughness as well as his desire to proceed. The man was absolutely amazing! He told Lisa that he planned to stop at the next aid station in hopes that a massage would loosen his muscles enough for him to finish. If not he would consider dropping. Lisa assured him that he would be okay and encouraged him to finish no matter what. In the end the man did finish and found the time to thank Lisa afterwards for her encouragement. Just after leaving the two gentlemen we were led up a major climb of about one mile straight up on rocky, uneven terrain. I didn’t mind because I was still pretty strong and even though it took an effort to climb I looked at it as a break. The climb at times was steep but then there are times when it leveled off and sure enough each time it leveled off Lisa had me run. It was hard to run but in a way I found it to be fun. I kept myself amused with thoughts of how impressive it is for anyone to actually be able to run 90 some odd miles into a race. In fact it’s truly unimaginable, unbelievable and something only that could be in fairytales. As I was thinking this I was doing it myself. I’m still amazed even as I write this that anyone of us could possibly do that. We met a guy coming down the trail in the opposite direction as we were about ¾ of the way up and I couldn’t help but ask him how far away we were. He said we had about a ½ mile to the crossing. I honestly didn’t react to his answer until it seemed like we had traveled over a mile with no exit in sight. I became a little frustrated and mentioned to Lisa that I think the guy was wrong. She disagreed and kept me moving forward. Finally the turn was in sight and we made a left traveling downhill while yelling out my number to the aid station volunteer. As I ran by he yelled out my name and the state that I reside. It made me feel good when he seemed quite confused that I lived in the state of Delaware. Almost like I had no business being there….. but I was. I was guided across the highway by local police department personnel and then I stopped briefly at the aid station to be weighed. I refused food and I refused fluids but instead I wanted to move on. I left out of the aid station with the knowledge that there was still another climb in my immediate future. The climb was not hard nor was it significantly long but it did take a toll on my body. The trail was wide and rugged and a little longer than what I had remembered from the past. I was trying to conserve energy because I knew there was one major challenge left in the form of a two mile descent down to No Hands Bridge. A steep descent at this point in the race was evil, wicked and vicious but I had no choice as every participant who wants to finish must overcome the same obstacles as I. When we reached the top of the hill Lisa instructed me to run. She told me that I had to run because if not it could severely impact the outcome of my race. I was tired from the climb and begged her to allow me a few minutes to recover and then I promised that I would indeed run through the open field and down the 2 mile hill into No Hands Bridge. She agreed to allow me a short rest period and I followed through on my promise to run once we hit the open field. I’ve went over this part of the course in my mind a million times and now the only thing I needed to do was follow through on my plan and produce results. When we hit the field we stopped talking and we ran. Occasionally Lisa would look back to make sure I was still running but for the most part we were just out for a morning jog in the park. The field was not my problem and not where my mind was focused. I understood that a 2 mile jaunt straight down a mountaintop at this point in the run would cause significant pain and I needed to prepare myself for that. I looked up to the sky one last time and asked God to guide me down the mountain and help me manage the pain. It was a short, quick conversation and before I knew it we were headed down. As we descended I had thoughts of my own experiences on switchbacks with sharp descents that have occurred late in races that I’ve participated in. At the 2004 Massanutten 100 I failed to run even one step of the long descent down into the mile 95 aid station. My failure to do so tacked on significant time to my final finish time and made me feel unfulfilled forcing me to return the following year to conquer my demons. I knew that in this race I could never once let up because the race was not over until I crossed the finish line in Placer High School. I could not afford to let up on this downhill section for it could cost me my entire race. I thought of others whom I paced here in the past who had no trouble navigating this section. I fed off of their success and kept plodding forward. In the distance I heard Lisa praising me which in turn motivated me to keep moving. It seemed like a never ending descent which became worse when I could see the road off to my right yet we seemed to be stalled in the mountain. A couple of times I broke down and complained to Lisa. I couldn’t help but wonder when this thing was going to end. She basically told me to relax and run. She was doing a fabulous job gliding easily down the hill and I tried my best to duplicate her stride. Finally I heard her exclaim that we made it as we turned to the right and entered the No Hands Bridge aid station. When I exited the trail the first person I saw was my friend Chris Mortensen. The last time I had seen him we were on the trail headed toward the mile 65 aid station. When I saw him at No Hands I was certain that he had already finished and had just come back to visit the aid station. When I got closer I asked him what his finish time was and his response was that he hadn’t finished yet. I didn’t want to spend too much time at the aid station so I told him to come along with Lisa and I so we could chat some more on our way to the finish. Lisa and I left but neither of us looked back so I wasn’t sure until later if indeed he did tag along. When we crossed No Hands Bridge it brought back memories of Lisa’s 2005 run at this same event. It was here that she looked at me dead in the eye and said lets go. She ran the entire way from No Hands to Robie Point and then hustled up the hill before running the rest of the way to the finish. That was one of the most impressive finishes I’ve ever witnessed. That being said when we crossed No Hands I looked her dead in the eye and said I’m not doing that. I can be tough but I’m not that tough. Lisa knew Chris was directly behind me and had hopes that would his presence would give me enough motivation to push hard to the finish. I will admit that the thought crossed my mind but what makes me feel best is satisfying my own personal goals not beating those around me. If Chris were to have passed me I would have welcomed his presence and congratulated him for his effort for on that day his desire would have been greater than mine. Bottom line though is we each have individual goals and despite what others think as long as we’re satisfied than we’re victorious. The trail leading from No Hands Bridge to the entrance of Robie Point is generally flat and soft with no rocks or roots. This whole section can be run if enough energy has been conserved to do so. Me? Well I had enough energy to run maybe two thirds of it. We ran when I could and walked when I wanted a break. Lisa continued to chat with me as we made our way to the last climb. Earlier in the morning I had asked her to remind me to stop somewhere on the course and take a look around to appreciate the beauty of the area and the course I was about to conquer. She didn’t agree to do that yet in her own way she did it as we made our way down this portion of the course. She pointed out how beautiful the area was and made a point to make sure I understood. She probably doesn’t realize I recognized what her intentions were but indeed she did succeed. Finally We made a right turn up the trail that led us to Robie Point. I never once dreaded this part of the course despite the fact that the climb is somewhat tough. It was the end and adrenaline alone would power me up to the top where we would be met by the volunteers at the last aid station. Robie Point was the last gasp effort by the Western States course to defeat me but it would not win. The steep, wide, rugged, rocky, trail did not have enough of what it would take to beat me on this day. I looked straight ahead in the upright position, swung my arms, breathed deeply and easily made my way to the top. The asphalt road, single family homes and real people were a welcome sight. Before moving on I took off the long sleeve shirt I was wearing and left it with the volunteers. It was a significant move on my part because the shirt represented something I had been clinging onto for a long time. I let it go and released it from my heart and moved on without a tear shed. As we left Lisa gave me instructions as to how we would proceed once up the steep incline leading away from the aid station. I listened and agreed to follow her instructions for at the time they seemed very reasonable. Just as we made it to the top of the incline we were met by my friend Rick. I had mixed emotions when I saw him because I knew his presence meant that he was not able to finish the race. At the same time though there would be no better way to finish this race than to have my two best friends by my side for the last mile. Lisa allowed me to talk to Rick for a few moments before she once again took charge and urged me to run. I followed her direction and put it in gear passing a couple of people along the way. Just as I started to run I spotted another little incline just ahead but Lisa didn’t acknowledge it until I brought it to her attention. Still she advised me to run but I told her this time I needed to stop. Instead of insisting she bargained and asked me to run half-way and even though I griped I went ahead and did as she requested. Once up that final hill both Rick and Lisa told me it was down hill the rest of the way to the finish. I became excited and put it into another gear almost wasting myself entirely. I caught myself in time to throttle back in order to save enough energy to make it to the entrance of the Placer High School football field. Just before entering Rick laid one more challenge on me. He said I had just over two minutes to get to the finish to break 27 hours. My response was I don’t care! I told him I would give my best effort but I was not going to push. This race was extremely hard and I had met every challenge set before me. At this moment times are irrelevant, only the finish mattered. That being said as I rounded the track and headed the last fifty yards toward the finish line the clock flipped to 27 hours and I felt a bit disappointed. The feeling disappeared quickly though as I crossed the finish line in just over 27 hours for my second Western States 100 mile finish. I personally feel that Western States is the Boston Marathon of 100 mile races and it’s something that can not be missed if given the opportunity. Most that compete in this type of activity do so because of the low key atmosphere that100 mile races provide. I’m one of these people but I also can enjoy the hoopla, hype and excitement of the Boston Marathon and Western States. I thought for months and ultimately chose to enter because I wanted that excited feeling of running around the track and crossing the finish line at Placer High just one more time and with the help of some very good friends I was able to do it. Dave Bursler Bear, Delaware Runningman12001@yahoo.com