Love, beauty, gut issues and a touch of hypothermia.
Well, that was a lot of fun. I was craving a nice long run. It’s been since October since I’ve ran a 100 miler (Moab 240) and I was ready.
A bit of history first: my stepdad, Bill, who was really more of a father to me than biology would say, had a share of a cabin on the Fall River, not far from Burney and my family and I would spend summers up there growing up. He passed away from cancer in 2017, and his death was difficult for me. He was too young and our relationship had only gotten stronger in my adulthood.
I hiked the PCT in 2017 partly to process the death and all that has happened in the years of him fighting cancer. The trek of course was spiritually grounding as well as expanding. I had hiked 1,400 miles of it in 2005, and already felt a special connection with the trail.
So besides memories of my family and dad in Burney, the PCT travels through the area- I’ve hiked through during thru-hike/ LASHes three times! So I know the trails a bit!
Lot’s of things that made signing up a no brainer…. But it was also the first year of the race, small and local and everything a small mountain 100 should be. Friendly and humble RD and volunteers, 8-16 ish miles between aid stations, and big mountain climbs. Sign me up!!
The first 65 miles went great. Good flow, feeling fine, trying to run conservative to save some juice for the second half. My family came to meet me at mile 25, which of course was a real treat!
Sadly, my stomach turned while descending from Burney Mountain, and I just couldn’t quite get things right after that.
Still, I kept moving, albeit much slower than my goal pace to get a 24 hour finish. The sun went down and I was rewarded by a stunning sunset, and I reminded myself- early on in fact- that I really wanted to fully enjoy and immerse myself in the course, rather than white knuckle my way through.
Between 1-5 am tend to be the toughest time mentally during a 100, and this was certainly true for me. To top it off, around 3:30 am at mile 86, I fell in a rushing deep creek… if I had been moving faster and if the temperatures weren’t at their lowest (maybe 39-40 degrees), I could have shrugged this off…. But I’m susceptible to hypothermia after getting it a few times in the past, so sure enough after booking it 2 miles to the aid station I began shaking like a leaf, with my jaw chattering so bad it’s lucky I didn’t break any teeth! Fortunately, my amazing crew mamma Jan was there with her car and some dry clothes to change into. It took me an extra 1.5 hours or so to warm up, but I recovered and got back out there to finish out the course. Phew!
Well, that’s a wrap I suppose. I am recovering this week, enjoying being lazy, eating a ton and sleeping in. Next week training will begin again as I ready my body for Tor Des Geants (and another little adventure I have up my sleeves…)
Flights of a hummingbird 